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"Hey now, there ain't no reason to run off. Been a while since we've been around a girl, ain't it Hogg?" Denver grinned, his yellow teeth snarling around a curled up lip, eyeing her up and down again. The way his eyes unclothed her made her feel suddenly dirty. She wanted to run and wash herself. No man had ever looked at her that way. She'd heard her Pa talk about the way men got sometimes when they hadn't been around womenfolk in a long time. It hadn't sounded pleasant then and it didn't now. Although she drew herself up straight, panic was quickly winning a battle within her.
Katherine felt a sick stab of fear run up her spine again as she heard the chair scrape the floor... Fear of the unknown, the unclean. She glanced out the door and saw Joshua leading the other team into the barn. He'd be out there a while, haying the horses, washing them down. Good, whatever took place here; he didn't need to see it. She wished she could tell him to run. She could feel the trouble in the air. In the way the prisoner stiffened and his jaw moved decidedly.
The prisoner chanced a glance at her for a split second, his eyes sending a clear signal of danger.
She edged toward the stove.
"Shore has and none as pretty as her. Got pretty hair. Hands full of it. I like a woman with lots of hair. 'Course I like my women with yellow hair, mostly. But ain't she got a lot of it. And she's kinda dark skinned too, ain't nothing like that brother outside. A little too thin boned for my likin' too. I like the soft touch myself. But I ain't as picky 'bout my women these days."
Katherine backed against the potbelly stove. She saw the prisoner's head come up, but he didn't move. He stared straight ahead of him, at the wall, as though the wall were an interesting object. She wondered why he did that. But from the narrowing of those deep blue eyes, she knew he was ready for trouble, too.
"Don't mind them, Miss Katherine, ain't got no manners, I reckon. They're soldiers, not around many women. Lost their manners killin' too many Comanche I guess. Don't pay no attention. You fellers eat up, we got tracks to make if we want to make Horseshoe Bend before nightfall. This is the last waterin' hole."
"I've got a cobbler, if you'd like?" Katherine edged toward the stove again hoping to distract them. Little would they appreciate that this was the end of the berries and there would be no more cobblers for a long time to come.
"Ooh, now don't that beat all. Got looks and can cook too. Boy we gonna have a good time with this one, Denver."
"I told you boys to settle down," Mr. Bowlins stood up between them and Katherine. By the way he stood Katherine knew there would be trouble. She saw his hand inch toward his revolver. She saw the nervous twitch to his fingers too. Mr. Bowlins was no gunslinger; he didn't kill for a livin' like the soldiers. He was no match for these two.
"Stand aside old man. We gonna give the little bitch some pleasures. You just watch out for the kid." The man named Denver stood up and moved toward them his hands going to his belt.
In an instant, Mr. Bowlins pulled his gun. Even though his hands shook, he was aiming well for their chest. "Now let's just sit down here and have some of that cobbler, boys."
But it was too late; the one called Hogg
pulled a pistol from his hip and fired point blank at Mr. Bowlins gut. Katherine heard the shot and jumped with fright, sure of the knowledge she was in real danger. She grabbed at Mr. Bowlins shirtfront as blood oozed over her fingertips. He slumped slowly to the floor, she along with him. She felt sick and dizzy but willed herself to stay alert.
Katherine tried to catch him as he fell, but he was too heavy. She cradled his head in her lap as he collapsed on the floor. "Oh Mr. Bowlins, please don't die. Don't leave me Mr. Bowlins."
"Sorry...Miss Katherine..." And he was gone.
Katherine stared at the eyes of a dead man, a terror deep inside her making her motionless. She couldn't move, couldn't do anything. Death was upon her—again. She was the victim. She fumbled beneath her skirt for the gun that lay at Mr. Bowlins side. Tucking it into her hand, she hid it behind her skirt.
Now both men were on their feet and heading toward her. She stood up. She'd rather die than have their filthy hands on her.
"'Pears to me we could blame the prisoner fer this," Hogg shouted as he glanced at the other soldier.
"Good thinkin'. Now don't be bashful sugar, we ain't gonna hurt you none, long as you give us what we want. We wont hurt you none, just wanna have a little fun. You'll like what I got to give you, you'll see."
The man called Hogg pulled her close, his dirty hands holding her at arm's length, his nasty breath fanning her cheek.
Bile roiled in her stomach. Sweat trickled down her back and between her breasts.
She started to scream as terror took hold of her. Suddenly she was holding and cocking the gun in her hands pointing it at him. He leaped against her and she fired. The man went down as the other one grabbed her around the waist.
"I'd rather die than have your hands on me, sir," she spat at him.
"You just might at that, you little bitch." he snarled, his hand going to her skirt.
But suddenly, the prisoner grabbed him around the neck and started choking him with the very ropes that tied him. The prisoner! He was helping her! And Katherine couldn't look. She was terrified. She could still feel the hand upon her skirt leg, but now it was loose and dangling. Suddenly the soldier fell to the floor.
Katherine had let the revolver fall to the floor and turned about just in time to see the prisoner when a shot rang out. He fell at her feet.
Chapter Six
"Oh my God, Joshua, what have you done?" Katherine cried aloud her hand going to her mouth. The fear ebbed slowly, as a new panic took hold.
The scout staggered back against the table and fell to the floor. His eyes glazed, almost unbelieving.
