Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
She sniffled, staring at the ground. “I’ll behave.”
“Try that again. One more chance before I pick up the strap and start over.”
“Yes, Daddy!”
He nodded, grinning wickedly. “Very good,” he said. With his free hand, he righted her drawers and pulled down her chemise. He stood, still holding her elbow in his hand.
“Pick up the strap, Aida,” he ordered. She frowned but obeyed as she bent and lifted the strap, handing it to him.
“Oh, no, I don’t want you to hand it to me,” he said. “You carry it. And when we get back to camp, you’ll fix it back up near my saddle, so it’s right nearby when you and I ride together later.”
She hung her head and held the strap in her hand, as he took her free hand and walked her back to the wagon. She hated him, no doubt. But at least now she would obey.
Chapter Three
Love is what we were born with. Fear is what we learned here. ― Marianne Williamson
Aida hated the jostling atop the horse, every bounce and shift causing her backside to ache. She sat in front of Cole, his arms around her as he held the reins. In any other circumstance, she might feel he was protecting her but now, she knew he sat behind her so he could watch her every move. She tried to take stock of what the men had tied to their horses, but what they carried was minimal and well-hidden, clearly so they’d be ready to gallop at a moment’s notice. She noted various bundles and tins that looked like beans, cornmeal, and dried bacon, tin cups strung together for water and a handful of eating utensils. Her stomach growled, though she wouldn’t admit she was hungry even if Cole whipped her again. He would not get any sign of weakness from her.
She saw the menacing strip of leather curled up and dangling from beneath his blanket, and she shuddered, squirming as her aching backside met the hard saddle. She took pride in her comely figure and delicate skin, and wondered if the brute had left any marks. No doubt he’d welted and bruised her with the whipping he’d given her. Glaring, Aida pulled her legs up closer together. Despite the cowboy’s rough demeanor, she had a vague recollection of him positioning her just so on the saddle. No doubt his aim had been to keep her alive on the journey so he could deliver her to wherever they were going, and he’d had no intent on actually being gentle.
She looked around wildly. There had to be something, anything she could use to plan her escape. Something she could use to hurt them, and get away. All weapons were, of course, safely hidden on the men outside the wagon. Rope wasn’t very useful in escaping from a band of vicious kidnappers, and she couldn’t think of much else. Her eyes fixed on a few small candles tied together—again, useless. But as she continued to discreetly look at their wares, she noted the heavy iron skillet. She smiled to herself, but then frowned. What would her plan be? To whack the head of whomever she was closest to? Then what? Smack the other men? She sighed. She’d no doubt end up tied up and whipped again.
Her heart stuttered as the horse drew to a halt. She sat up, smoothing a hand over her chemise and hair. Though she was surrounded by a band of savage, wild men, it was still habit to fix herself and look as presentable as possible, something she’d been taught since before she could even walk. She hoped they’d actually give her something to wear soon. She could still hear Lucille’s clear voice, instructing her. Ladies turn themselves out properly. We carry ourselves with decorum.
Cole swung down from the horse, tying it to a post, and lifted her down roughly. Grabbing her by the arm, he marched her over to the horse that was trailing right behind them.
“Gotta check to be sure the trail ahead is clear,” he growled. “You watch her.” He released her arm and marched away.
An unfamiliar man stood in front of her. He had the same swarthy skin, same nose, same broad shoulders as Cole. But unlike Cole, his dark beard was more scant, and his eyes… those eyes. They were piercing blue, unlike Cole’s dark brown, and something about them sent a shiver down Aida’s spine. Aida knew just from looking at the man’s eyes there was nothing he was incapable of. Whereas Cole was implacable, this man was cruel.
“We’re stopping to eat. Cole’s dealing with an issue with the team, so you mind yourself. And unless you want to answer to him, you’ll do as yer told. C’mere. We’ll go sit by the clearin’ and you’ll help me cook.” He pointed to a small clearing to the right, while her mind swirled. The man in front of her narrowed his eyes. “You have ‘til the count of ten.” She began to walk awkwardly, her battered backside protesting with each move as the man came to her side. His eyes trailed down the front of her thin chemise, and Aida felt suddenly naked. He grinned wickedly and licked his lips. His voice dropped to a low growl. “Cryin’ shame Cole claimed you first. Ain’t fair the older brother gets first pick’a the spoils. I could make you scream in pleasure just as soon as I’d have you screamin’ in pain.”