Tykota's Woman(11)

Abruptly, fearfully, Makinna sensed that she was not alone. It wasn't a sound or a movement that alerted her, but a feeling. She sat up and swung her feet to the floor, peering into the darkness, but discerned no shape or movement or sound.

She started violently when a hand clamped over her mouth, and a strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her to her feet.

A harsh whisper came to her out of the darkness. "Be still, and listen to me. Your life depends on it."





It was the Indian's voice! What did he want with her?

"Do exactly as I say, and you might stay alive. Now, I am going to remove my hand from your mouth, but first you must promise that you will not make a sound. Can you do that?" he insisted.

Hearing the threat in his voice, she nodded. It was doubtful that she could make a sound anyway, because fear had closed her throat. Was he there because he wanted to ravish her? Oh, why had she attempted to be kind to him? The others had been right about him all along. Why hadn't she listened to them?

The Indian gripped her arm and led her to the window. He quietly lifted her through, then quickly joined her before she could react or call for help. He again clasped her arm and stood still for a moment, listening.

Makinna knew that the others were asleep, so no one would come to her immediate rescue. "Why are you-"

His clamped a hand over her mouth, cutting off both her speech and her breathing. He dipped his head and whispered harshly in her ear. "Do not make a sound, woman. If you do, it may be your last."

Before she realized what was happening, he was tugging her deeper into the night shadows, silently, ominously.

Makinna closed her eyes, trying to gather her courage so she could contend with the terror that was paralyzing her reasoning.

Was he taking her to the barn to ravish her there?

No. He moved around the barn and away from the way station, toward the desert. He dragged her up the side of a sand dune and glanced back briefly as if he feared being followed.

Dear God, he was taking her farther away from the station and any help.

He walked with an easy stride while she struggled along beside him. He was a powerful man, and she knew she had no chance of fighting him off.

After they had been walking for some time, he paused and glanced back in the direction of the way station. Then he pushed her to the ground with such force that her face went into the sand. When he dropped down beside her, a scream built in her throat, but she dared not let it pass her lips.

For a long, tense moment she waited, fearing what he would do. His hand was on her shoulder, keeping her in place, but so far he seemed more interested in the way station than in her. Maybe he was making sure that no one was following them before he ripped her clothing off.

At last she found her voice, and it trembled with fear when she pleaded, "Please don't hurt me."

"Do not speak," he said, angrily pushing her face back down. "Be silent!"

Suddenly a bloodcurdling yell broke the stillness, and Makinna raised her head to follow the Indian's gaze. The night was so black that it was difficult to see anything, but her eyes widened when she spotted what appeared to be torches. She felt hope flare in her heart. Someone must have discovered that she was missing, and they were searching for her!

But her hope died when another bloodcurdling yell split the night, and she saw men mounted on horses. Dear God, Indians were attacking the station!

"We have to go help the others!" she cried, scrambling to get to her feet, but the Indian pushed her down again.

"Do not speak, and do not move," he commanded. "There is nothing we can do to help."

"But-"

"I will not tell you again to be quiet," he said ominously.

She clamped her lips together, forced to watch helplessly while the Indians intensified their attack. She heard sporadic gunfire, and again hope flamed within her. Someone was firing at the Indians; perhaps they would chase away the attackers.

But again her hope died hard when she saw more Indians joining those already circling the way station.

"You should have warned the others," she whimpered. "Why can't we go back and help them now?"

He gripped her arm and pulled her to her feet. "Silence! We must get away from here at once."

She jerked her arm out of his grasp and said angrily, "You aren't even going to try to help them, are you?"

He said nothing as he grasped her hand and pulled her forward. She tried to free herself, but his grip only tightened, and in one swift move, he swung her in his arms and carried her down the other side of the sand dune. Makinna had never seen a night so dark, with only the pale moon's feeble light.

The Indian carried her for some time before he roughly set her on her feet. She stumbled and fell, and he did not attempt to help her up.