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He had been sitting cross-legged, like an Apache. Now he leaned forward, putting his face close to mine.
“You don’t listen good, do you? I bought you, for a damn good Henry rifle that was worth a lot more than you seem to be. That means I get to use you any way I damn well please, an’ you better get that through your head right now!”
I could feel the blood rushing to my face as the meaning of his blunt speech became clear. Sheer rage and indignation kept me speechless, and he sat back with a satisfied look that made me even more furious.
“That’s better. As long as you do like you’re told an’ don’t talk back maybe I won’t have to beat you to prove what I been tellin’ you.”
Hunger or not, this was too much to bear. I threw the dish at him. He ducked with amazing ease, and I could have cried when I saw the remnants of that glorious stew spilled all over the ground.
From the look on his face when he slowly straightened up I thought he was going to kill me. Instead, astonishingly, he began to laugh.
“Well I’ll be goddamned if she ain’t got a temper! And enough spunk to waste all that food, too. An’ that’s too bad, because I might just make you go hungry tomorrow!”
I should have been warned by the change in his tone. Before I could prevent it, he moved with deceptive casualness, one hand snaking out to fasten around my wrists, pushing them above my head as his body came down over mine. Almost contemptuously, he looked down into my face, his weight holding me motionless.
“This once, because you’ve had a hard time of it and were tough enough to survive, I’m gonna let you get away with it. After today, ain’t gonna be no excuse that you’re tired, or scared, or hysterical. You ever throw anythin’ at me again an’ I’ll beat the tar outa you, an’ that’s a promise.”
I squirmed under him, hoping my eyes reflected all the hate and disgust he filled me with. He gave that mocking twitch of his lips that passed for a smile.
“There’s another thing you just got me to thinkin’ of, with all that wigglin’ around you’re doing…” Deliberately suggestive, he let his words trial off. My body stiffened with revulsion. “Hard to tell, with a woman like you, exactly what you’re thinkin’,” he said softly. I felt his breath fan my hot cheeks. Had he been about to kiss me?
Twisting my head away I said through stiff lips: “You don’t have to wonder then, because I’ll tell you! I was thinking how much I hate you, how much I despise you, what a bestial animal you are! I’m only glad that my father didn’t live to see what you turned into!”
I thought I heard his indrawn breath, and then with a brutal movement he caught my face by the chin and forced it around to his.
“So that’s what you think?”
“That’s what you are! A beast—a wild animal—a savage killer!”
I would have said more, for he had pushed me to it, but he didn’t give me the chance. With a swift movement he eased his weight off me a trifle, and with both hands, ripped the tattered remnants of my gown down the front.
I cried out, and beat at him with my fists, but as weak and exhausted as I was, my puny strength was no match for his.
Even now, as I tell it, I can feel my face begin to burn. He stripped me naked, twisting my body this way and that in spite of all my struggles.
And then, when he had had his way and I lay under him again, held down by his body and all too conscious of the rough feel of his clothing against my bare flesh, he—just lay there! Looking down at my face as if he enjoyed reading the humiliation and hatred there.
“You can do what you please!” I panted viciously. “You’ve proved you’re much stronger than I. You’ve proved you’re what I said you were! An animal! A beast who can only take a woman by force! It’s a habit with you, isn’t it?”
“You think I mean to rape you?” Amazingly his voice was quite calm. “You’re wrong about that, like you are about a lot of other things. Better take a good look at yourself in a glass tomorrow before you go jumpin’ to conclusions.” He smiled cruelly. “You’re quite a sight, Lady Rowena Dangerfield! The sun’s made you almost as dark as I am, an’ your nose is peelin’. To tell the truth, your face needs washin’ too. You need washing all over! An’ another thing, I’ve met your kind of woman before. All promise and prettiness on the outside, an’ nothin’ but cold inside.”
“You…!”
“I ain’t quite finished yet. Didn’t take your clothes off because I wanted you, just to show you what I could do, if I’d a mind to! An’ that gown you was wearin’ was hardly suitable for a squaw. I’ll get you some others tomorrow, an’ you start learnin’ your place.”
He rolled away from me and stood up, all in one easy motion. With a short, disgusted exclamation he flung me a blanket.
“Keep that around you an’ try to get some sleep. Ain’t gonna tie you, because there’s no place you can go. Adios for now.”
I was left shivering with shock, clutching the blanket to my shaking body as I watched him stride away towards the other fires without a backward glance.
In spite of the bitterness of my emotions, I must have fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. I was so weary that I only half-awoke when Lucas Cord came back to the crude little lean-to and lay beside me. I turned onto my stomach with a muffled exclamation, pulling the blanket more closely around myself, but he made no move to touch me and, shockingly, I slept again.
By the time I had spent two days in the Apache camp I had managed to regain some remnants of my pride and common sense. It was not as if I had any choice in the matter. I was a captive, a slave, but I was in a much better position than any of the other miserable wretches who had been taken prisoner by the Apache. I was neither continually beaten, nor left to sleep out in the open like one of the dogs. I was not literally worked to death, nor tormented by both the women and the children of the camp.
I wasn’t Lucas Cord’s wife, although he came to lie by me every night, in the small wickiup that Little Bird, his brother’s wife, had helped me build. I was not his mistress, although I think that only he and I knew that. He had made it clear that as a woman I held no attraction for him. I learned soon enough that I was merely an instrument of his revenge against Todd Shannon, and that by becoming engaged to the man he hated, I had made myself his enemy too. I was to be a pawn of some kind, but he would tell me nothing beyond the mocking statement he had thrown out that first morning, when he woke me by flinging a blouse and skirt at me. They were typical of the garments that all the Apache women wore. And apparently that was all they wore!
“What do you mean to do with me?” I had demanded. “I have a right to know!”
