Millie pushed herself onto her hands and knees and backed away from him, but there was nowhere to go. Behind her, her back hit the wall. She looked around frantically, trying to find a way to escape. There was a window, and it was open. She lunged to her left. If she could just get out of the window, she could get away.
The man grabbed her ankle and pulled her closer. “You’re a feisty little one, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll tame you in no time.”
Millie didn’t quite understand why the men were doing what they were doing, but she had seen what they did to Mrs. Hawthorne and to her mother. She didn’t have to understand to know what the man’s intentions were. Using all her strength, Millie kicked and punched, but it didn’t stop the man from getting on top of her.
***
Present day
Millie sank to the floor, struggling to breathe as more and more images flashed through her mind. She couldn’t control it. She couldn’t stop it, and all the while, in the back of her mind, a voice kept reminding her that no man would ever want her. That Jace would never want her.
Chapter 24
The fire had burned low, leaving only fiery coals giving off faint light under the starry sky. Blade lay on his back, hands behind his head, and his black wide-brimmed hat tilted over his eyes. Next to him, on her bedroll, lay Dakota, tucked in under her coat and blanket. The nights were getting colder with each passing day, and soon enough, fall was going to turn to winter.
Africa and Riot were tied to a nearby juniper tree for the night. Blade still didn’t think it was necessary, but it made Dakota happy, so he did it anyway. After traveling all day, the horses didn’t seem to mind not being able to roam freely.
Blade enjoyed spending time with Dakota, but they had been on the road for a long time, and they were both growing tired. It was a hard life living in the wild, but they were doing all right. They were on their way to Reno, Nevada. It was a long trek from Utah, almost 560 miles. They were more than halfway there, and Blade couldn’t wait to scratch Arthur Hill’s name off his list. Each day was a test of their will, but theycarried on, set on getting revenge and finishing what they had started.
Dakota shifted in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent. Sometimes she spoke in her sleep, and he could make out what she was saying, but other times it was just random words or mumbles. He had teased her about it on occasion, but she didn’t think it was very funny.
Blade turned toward her, allowing himself to really look. She was beautiful. He didn’t understand how he had never noticed it before. Her long black hair was loose and draped over one side of her face. She looked peaceful when she slept. During waking hours, he only allowed himself glances, but now, under the stars, while she was sleeping, he could fully appreciate her beauty. He wondered what she would think if she knew what he was thinking, how he felt.
Maybe one day he would be brave enough to tell her. The idea scared him more than anything in the world. If she didn’t feel the same, and she had given no indication that she did, it could ruin their friendship, and he could lose her forever.
As he watched her, his eyes started drifting closed. He didn’t hear the Indians as they approached. It was Africa’s low snort that pulled him out of his slumber. Blade lay still, listening, wondering if he had imagined it. The night was quiet around him. Then came another noise, some shuffling. Somebody was there.
Slowly, Blade reached for one of his knives. He slept with his gun belt on, refusing to leave himself vulnerable. He listened again—more shuffling. It was coming from where Africa and Riot were tied up.
There was no way of knowing what was out there with them. It could be bandits, Indians, or even coyotes. Either way, he needed to act fast. Blade removed the knife, passed it to his free hand, and drew another. Ready to attack, he spun around and pushed himself to his knees. Three figures were closing in on the horses. The dying embers of the fire provided just enough light to make out that they were Indian men.
Blade didn’t hesitate. He flung the knife in his hand toward the leading man. He wasn’t aiming to kill them, although he wasn’t sure whether a knife would scare them off. He should have chosen his Colt. A gunshot would have worked much better, but over the years, he had learned that it was necessary to be stealthy when you didn’t know what threat you were dealing with.
The knife flew past the man, just missing his nose and lodging into the tree beyond. All three turned in Blade’s direction. Luckily, he was fast and had already drawn his Colt and had it pointed at them.
Behind him, he could hear Dakota stir.
“Don’t move,” he instructed.
Dakota stirred again. “What’s going on?”
“Three Indians trying to steal Africa and Riot.”
Within a flash, Dakota was at his side, rifle in hand. One of the Indians seized the opportunity to try and grab Africa’s reins. Nobody touched his horse. Blade fired. The .32 slug went right through the man’s hand, taking flesh and bone with it. He screamed, scaring Africa, who spun sideways and kicked the Indian. He was flung back, landing on the ground with a loud thud.
Blade got to his feet and marched forward. One of the Indians reached for his gun.
“Don’t even think about it,” Blade demanded, his finger on the trigger, ready to fire.
The man hesitated and then lifted his hands in surrender. In front of him, the other Indian lay on the ground, groaning. Getting kicked by a horse hurt a lot at best, but it could be fatal.
“What do we do with them?” Blade asked when Dakota took her place next to him.
“I don’t think they wanted to harm us,” she replied.
“We didn’t,” one of the Indians said quickly.
Dakota let out a long breath. “We should let them go.”
