Wilderness Double Edition 13 Read online

  Seven

  Felicity Ward wanted to scream. Or pick up a gun and shoot the Coyfields, one by one. She had never considered herself a violent person, but after the abuse she had suffered all afternoon she would gladly change. If not for her own sake, then for her husband’s. Worry about Simon had further frayed her nerves. She was so overwrought, she kept glancing at the rifles propped near the door and gauging whether she could reach them before someone stopped her.

  The Coyfields were animals. They had no regard for anyone or anything other than themselves.

  Earlier, as soon as they hauled her back inside, Mabel demanded she set to work preparing more food. They were going to celebrate having a new place by having a midday meal fit for royalty. Felicity was constantly at the stove, cooking and roasting and baking, and fixing one pot of coffee after another.

  At the same time, the Coyfields were tearing her home apart. They rooted into all the drawers, into the chest at the foot of the bed, into the cupboards, taking everything out, examining every article. Half the time they didn’t bother putting anything back. They just dropped it on the floor. Clothes, blankets, towels now littered the cabin. Dishes were scattered on the counter. Pots and pans were everywhere. In a few short hours the clan had turned Felicity’s clean and tidy haven into a pigsty.

  When they weren’t nosing around, the Coyfields were joking and laughing and thoroughly enjoying themselves. They hardly paid Felicity any mind except to bark for more coffee or more sweetcakes or more buttered biscuits.

  The sole exception was Cole. He paid more attention to Felicity than she liked. Much more. His hungry eyes followed her everywhere. Lust shone on his swarthy face, and often, when she bent over, she caught him licking his lips in wicked relish. She loathed him. To her he was a hideous ogre, a disgusting lecher, the very worst humanity had to offer.

  Once, when Felicity was carrying coffee to Jacob, Cole had put a hand on her. He’d reached out and placed a palm where only her husband had any right to place one. It startled her so, she dropped the cup and saucer. Adding shame to insult, he had brazenly started to fondle her, right there in front of the others.

  Felicity had slapped his hand away and called him a pig. What did the rest of the Coyfields do? They laughed. Even the women. Even Mabel and Cindy Lou and Mary Beth. They all thought it was a great joke. Cole had reached for her again, but Mabel told him to quit it, that he should give Felicity time to get used to the idea.

  Felicity almost burst into tears. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that they would only laugh harder, that her suffering was a source of amusement.

  The Coyfields were unlike anyone Felicity had ever met. Even the slavers who stole her had not been as gleefully wicked, as blatantly vile. Now that there was no longer any need for them to put on their little act, they were showing their true natures, natures as dark as those of demons from the inferno. They were lustful, gluttonous savages.

  It got worse once Bo Coyfield found the jug of whiskey under the counter. Simon had picked it up at a rendezvous and kept it around mainly to treat the mountain men who stopped by. Bo gave a whoop, and the next thing Felicity knew, all of them were helping themselves to greedy swigs. Before long the cabin reeked of liquor. What little self-control the Coyfields had evaporated, giving their wanton urges full rein.

  Felicity saw things. She saw Tinder and Cindy Lou in a corner. That sparked an argument. Bo was upset at his brother because someone named Vin had “staked a claim” on Cindy Lou and it wasn’t fair of Tinder to be trifling with her behind Vin’s back. Tinder laughed and said what Vin didn’t see wouldn’t hurt him. Cindy Lou? She nuzzled Tinder’s neck and ears the whole time, rubbing her lush body against his like a minx in heat.

  The parents were little better. Jacob and Mabel were constantly touching each other where members of polite society touched only in private. Samuel, Felicity observed, gave Mabel certain looks on the sly, leading Felicity to wonder if Samuel and Mabel were more intimate than they should be. Maybe Jacob knew and didn’t care.

  Felicity wouldn’t put anything past them. They were unspeakably foul. Yet to her amazement, they reveled in their depravity. They actually enjoyed being the way they were. She had heard of people like them. People who lacked a solitary shred of human decency. But she’d always imagined that the stories were exaggerated, that no one could be truly, completely evil. Now she knew better.

  Unknown to Felicity, the worst shock was yet to come. Shortly before noon, Mabel turned to her and commented, “We’ll be decidin’ what to do with your husband pretty soon. Don’t you do anything foolish and act up when the time comes.”

  Felicity didn’t need to ask what “time” the woman referred to. “Can I see him? For just a minute?”

  Jacob, who had overhead, lowered the jug, whiskey trickling over his lip. “What for? So’s you can bawl and raise a fuss? I don’t think so, gal.”

  “I won’t act up. I promise.” Felicity had never begged in her life, but she begged now. Clutching Mabel’s thick fingers, she said, “Please. As a favor to me. Woman to woman. I only want to see if he’s all right. I’ll come right back in.”

  Mabel smiled and patted her arm. “All right, dearie. But you remember I did this for you. One favor deserves another.” She looked up. “Cole, take her out to see her feller.”

  Felicity shook her head, blurting, “No. Not him. Not any of the men. I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them.” She saw the matriarch’s eyes narrow and feared the insult would cost her the chance to see Simon. To her amazement, Mabel only chuckled.

  “I don’t blame you, little one. They’re a horny bunch. Always wantin’ to poke their baby-makers into us when we least expect. Were it up to me, I’d hack off all their members and spare us women a heap of aggravation.”

  Felicity couldn’t help thinking, This is a mother and a wife? Aloud she asked, “Will you come along instead? I won’t try anything.”

  “Oh, not me. I’m not as spry as I used to be.” Mabel shifted and bellowed. “Mary Beth! Quit admirin’ yourself in that mirror and get over here.”

  Samuel’s daughter, who was in her early twenties, was the quietest of the clan. Mary Beth tended to keep to herself. Unlike her cousin, Cindy Lou, she showed no interest in any of the men. Felicity had pegged her as the best of the bunch, maybe someone she could persuade to help her if they were given a few moments alone. Now that wish was being fulfilled.

  Hands clasped behind her shapely back, Mary Beth sashayed over. She wore a homespun dress a size too small, but it was cleaner than the clothes worn by the rest of her kin. Her full lips were always set in a perpetual pout, and she had a habit of stroking her long hair when she wasn’t doing anything else. She also had a habit of never quite looking anyone in the eye when they spoke to her. “Yes, Aunt Mabel?”

  “Take this gal out to see her gent.”

  Felicity took a step toward the door.

  “Not so fast, dearie,” Mabel said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Mabel pried the jug from her husband, savored a healthy swallow, then poked a thumb at Mary Beth. “She’s got to check you first. Make sure you’re not tryin’ to sneak a knife or something out to him.”

  Felicity’s own dress fit snugly from the waist up. She had removed her apron earlier. So, holding her arms out from her sides, she said, “Where would I hide anything?”

  “Who can say?” Mabel said, smirking. “Once this woman stuck a razor up her sleeve. Another time, a man hid a folding knife in his britches. So I’ve learned not to leave anything to chance.”

  Mary Beth stepped in front of Felicity. “You heard my aunt.”

  “Go ahead, then,” Felicity said, resigned. She figured it would be over quickly, that all Mary Beth had to do was pat her to verify she hadn’t concealed a blade or other weapon on her person. Instead, Mary Beth probed everywhere. Under her arms, around her bosom, over her bosom. The whole while, Mary Beth grinned as if at some secret joke. Then Mary Beth
bent down and Felicity felt fingers roving up under her dress. “Now, see here—!”

  “You be still or you can forget seeing your man,” Mabel warned. “Do you think that just because we’re from the hills, we’re stupid? It won’t take but a minute.”

  It took longer. Much longer. Humiliation turned Felicity beet red. She had to clench her teeth and shut her eyes. When at long last Mary Beth straightened, Felicity took a deep breath and shuddered. She glared at the woman she had wrongly assumed to be the nicest of the Coyfields. Mary Beth’s face was flushed, too, and she was breathing heavily. “Anything?” Mabel asked.

  “Not so much as a sewin’ needle.”

  “Get it done, then.”

  Simon Ward had not been idle. For hours he had been attempting to free himself. By constantly squirming and twisting, he was slowly but surely loosening the loops around his wrists. The effort cost him dearly, though. His skin was rubbed raw and his left wrist was bleeding profusely. But he refused to give up. Not while his beloved wife was in danger. Not while she was in there with those fiends.

  The day was warm, a breeze fanning the grass. The rustling almost drowned out the sound of the cabin door opening and closing. Simon held himself still and rotated his arms so the blood on his wrists wouldn’t be apparent. He figured it was one of the Coyfields, come to make sure he was still there.

  The sight of Felicity stirred Simon to the depths of his soul. Maybe it was the sunlight bathing her hair and face, or maybe it was the relief that washed over him, but her beauty had never moved him as deeply as it did at this moment. The worry in her eyes stirred him, too, and for her sake he forced a smile. “Thank God they haven’t harmed you!” Felicity was too choked with emotion to talk. She knelt, tenderly resting a hand on his cheek. Tears fought for release, and she struggled to contain them.

  “How are you holding up?” Simon asked.

  Just awful, Felicity was inclined to say. But what came out was “I’m doing fine. They leave me pretty much alone. Mabel let me come out to see you. Maybe she’ll also let me bring you some water and food.”

  Mary Beth tittered. “Forget it, city gal. He’s fine as he is. He won’t be needin’ nourishment before too long, anyhow.”

  Despite Felicity’s desire, a single tear seeped from the corner of her right eye and trickled down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Simon. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For being a fool. For being too trusting. For taking it for granted these people would be nice just because we are.”

  His wife’s turmoil filled Simon with the same. He yearned to take her in his arms, to comfort her, to assure her she wasn’t to blame for the darkness that ruled the hearts of others. “Things will work out just fine. Wait and see.”

  Mary Beth Coyfield cackled. “I thought my cousin Hap was dumb, but mister, you’ve got him beat all hollow. Did a horse stomp on you when you were a kid and damage your think box?”

  Felicity grasped Simon’s shirt, in need of something to anchor her, afraid she would jump up and do something she would regret. “Can’t you let us be for a minute, damn you!”

  “Now, now,” Mary Beth replied. “Keep a civil tongue or you go right back inside. Mabel said I was to bring you out. She didn’t say how long I had to let you stay.”

  Swallowing her pride, Felicity said, “I’m sorry. It’s the strain. I would be grateful if you would let me have a few words with my husband alone.”

  “I can’t hardly allow that. But I will move back a ways so’s you can make cow eyes at one another and whisper your farewells.” Chuckling, Mary Beth retreated ten feet or so.

  Felicity bent low, her lips nearly brushing Simon’s. “I hate her. I hate all of them. If I could get my hands on a gun—!”

  The vehemence in his wife’s tone stunned Simon. She had always been the gentlest of people, as kind as the year was long. Always ready to lend a helping hand. To give others the benefit of the doubt. “Don’t try. They’ll kill you.”

  “And what do you think they’re going to do to you?” Felicity said more sharply than she meant to. “I have to do something. You heard that tart. You don’t have much time. And I won’t let them hurt you, even if it costs me my own life. You’re everything to me, Simon.”

  Under more pleasant circumstances, her declaration would have inspired Simon to embrace her and smother her with kisses. Now he said, “Please, listen to me. Don’t do a thing to provoke them. I couldn’t bear it if they harmed you.”

  “I won’t let them kill you,” Felicity stressed. On an impulse, she glued her lips to his, giving him the kind of kiss that always took his breath away, the kind that set her heart to fluttering. She didn’t care that Mary Beth was watching. When she broke for air, she whispered, “Listen closely. I’m going to start back. When I get to the flower garden, I’m going to say my shoe needs lacing. But what I’m really going to do is take that big rock at the corner of the garden and hit the tart over the head. If I can knock her out, I’ll free you and we’ll escape.”

  “No. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Darling, it’s the only chance we have.”

  Simon couldn’t argue with the truth, but he refused to let her put herself in jeopardy. He went to say as much when he saw Mary Beth Coyfield materialize over her shoulder. “Time’s up, city gal.”

  Felicity kissed Simon on the tip of his nose, smiled, and slowly rose. All the love in her being poured from her eyes, and the love that streamed from his gave her added incentive to do what she must. Turning, she headed back, her head bowed to give the impression she was too stricken with grief to cause any trouble.

  Halfway there Mary Beth’s hand closed on her wrist. “Hold up.”

  “What?”

  “How about you and me go for a stroll? Say, over yonder by those trees. Ma will understand. And if’n you let me, I’ll fetch some water for your man after we’re done. What do you say?”

  “Let you what?” Felicity said, not comprehending until the lusty gleam in the other’s eyes gave her a clue. The suggestion so revolted her that she raised a hand to slap Mary Beth’s face. Only the thought that it would spoil her plan to save Simon stopped her.

  “So I take it the answer is no, Miss High-and-Mighty?” Felicity knew a spot, a quiet glade where downed limbs were handy. What if she led Mary Beth there? What if she got Mary Beth to turn her back, then hit her with one of the limbs? It would be safer than at the flower garden. “I might be interested,” she said, but Fate denied her the opportunity.

  Mary Beth was gazing toward the cabin. “Damnation. Looks like we can forget it. I never get to have any fun.” Mabel, Cole, Jess, and Bo had come out. Mabel beckoned, saying, “Time’s up, dearie. Mary Beth, you get inside and help your sister set the table.”

  “Why can’t this Yankee do it?” Mary Beth said. “You know how I hate housework.”

  “And you know how I hate to be sassed. Get that contrary backside of yours in there before I have Cole find me a switch. I need to have a talk with the little missy.”

  Sighing, Mary Beth brushed a hand across Felicity’s arm. “Your loss. I’d have had you floating in the clouds.” Pouting, she flounced off.

  Felicity followed. It was difficult to hide her disappointment at being thwarted. Now she had no hope of freeing Simon. She glanced back but couldn’t see him for the high grass. I will find a way, my beloved! she promised.

  Bo and Jess had their rifles. Over their shoulders were pouches crammed with jerked buffalo meat, meat that belonged to the Wards.

  “I reckon we’re all set, Ma,” Jess said.

  Mabel put her hands on her broad hips and thoughtfully regarded the youngest members of the clan. “We’re countin’ on you two. Don’t let us down. Hook up with Hap and Vin and rub out this King feller.” She paused. “He might be on his way here. If’n you see him coming’, hide and let him pass you by. Don’t try and make wolf meat of him on your own. Hear me?”

  “What do you Want done with the ‘breed
s and the white girl?” Jess asked.

  “Don’t touch the white girl. As for the half-breeds, if’n you don’t know what to do with them, you’re stupider than snot. Though maybe the ‘breed girl is worth keepin’, if’n one of you cottons to her. Just keep in mind it’ll be a couple of years yet before she’s ripe for pokin’.”

  Felicity knew they were talking about Evelyn; her disgust reached new heights. “That girl is only ten. She’s a child.”

  “So?” Mabel replied. “My brother diddled me for the first time when I was eleven. Didn’t do me no harm. I reckon I’m doing this girl a favor by havin’ my boys wait until she’s twelve.” Turning back to Jess and Bo, she said, “Your pas and me are countin’ on you. This is the first time we’ve let you do something like this without us there to make sure you don’t make mistakes. Remember all the things we’ve taught you. Listen to Hap and Vin. They’ve kilt plenty of jaspers and know just how to go about it.”

  Jess hefted his Kentucky. “We’ll be fine, Ma. Quit treatin’ us like we haven’t been weaned. Remember who it was shot that farmer in Arkansas?”

  “And you remember that what I told Mary Beth applies to you. I won’t take no sass.” Mabel grinned at Samuel’s son. “Bo, you’ve always had enough horse sense to spare. Keep an eye on Jess. Sometimes he lets his hankerin’s get the better of him.”

  “You can count on me, Aunt Mabel.”

  Cole Coyfield wasn’t looking at either of them. He had eyes only for Felicity. She ignored him, even when he came closer and leered at her as if she were a streetwalker.

  The two youngest walked to their mules and mounted. Mabel waved as they rode off, remarking, “It does a mother’s heart proud to have a son and a nephew like those two. The Lord knows I have some flaws, but I’ve done a good job of raisin’ my brood, if’n I do say so myself.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Felicity said, and never saw the hand that struck her. Rocked on her heels, she had to bear the added sting of Cole’s coarse laughter.