Catey's Capture Page 4

  Leroy frowned. She had a point. Still, it went against his grain to make deals with women. He considered the bargain for a moment, then finally nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave you be—until I’m better. Then you’d better get used to the fact you’re mine. Y’hear?”

  Sally smiled, her eyes unreadable. “Yessir!” she said and sighed inwardly. She’d managed a temporary reprieve from his brutality. Time would bring her the chance to escape.

  * * * * *

  “I think you’re enjoying this charade!” Catey stood glaring at Jess, hands on hips, blue eyes flashing.

  Jess smiled. “Shouldn’t I?”

  “No!”

  Jess came over to her and put his arms around her waist. “And what about you? Aren’t you enjoying it?” He lowered his head and nibbled the side of her creamy smooth neck just below her earlobe.

  She couldn’t stop her knees from weakening or prevent the shiver that ran up her spine at the feel of his lips. Still…

  She summoned all her energy and pushed hard on his chest causing him to stumble backward, his face a picture of surprise.

  “Do you really think I’m enjoying this?” she hissed. “You ride into my life, rob me of my home and my virtue and drive my sister into the wilderness…”

  Jess’ eyebrows rose. “Sister?”

  Catey bit her lip hard. Damn! You stupid big-mouthed idiot! she raged to herself. “Did I say sister? I meant cow—we had a cow…it was our only source of milk. It‑it…ran into the woods when you rode up… It…”

  But Jess wasn’t buying into it. Suddenly he was very close and his hands were heavy on her shoulders.

  “Where did she go?”

  “Who?”

  “Catey, stop playing games. If you have a sister, she’ll be in danger too.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Jess glared at her. It was obvious she wasn’t going to tell him anything. Suddenly he picked her up bodily and tossed her onto the bed.

  “Do you want to know what will happen to your sister if Clemens finds her?” he asked.

  Catey cowered on the bed watching as he stripped. She couldn’t help but admire his magnificent body, the firm muscles across his chest, his tapered waist and powerful thighs. Her eyes widened as she saw that he was completely ready to take her.

  He came to the bed and straddled her, his eyes icy. “Do you want me to show you what will happen to her?” he asked.

  Catey shivered and squirmed uselessly. She’d never seen him so cold and ruthless before. But she would not betray Sarah. Sarah would have found a place to hide. She was okay.

  Catey hardened her own eyes and glared back at him. “I told you, sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  A muscle worked in Jess’ jaw and suddenly and without preemption, he grabbed the bodice of her gown and ripped it from top to bottom. Shocked and surprised, she raised her hand to strike him but he caught it midair and pinned her wrist to the bed easily. In quick motions he ripped her undergarments from her body, exposing her fully to his view. She could see the coldness in his eyes infused with pure lust and suddenly she became frightened. All gentleness had fled from his face. This was a Jess she’d never seen before.

  She struggled uselessly. He had her pinned, using his own weight to keep her in place. He pushed a knee between her legs and lowered himself. She gasped as she felt his hot shaft prodding for entry. There was no foreplay this time—but she was still wet and ready for him. It angered her that her body betrayed her so easily.

  With a mighty thrust he entered her and she gasped. He pumped viciously, driving so deep she felt consumed. Still, she wanted it—didn’t mind the mild pain that still throbbed dully from that first time. She groaned and writhed.

  He’d wanted to be just brutal enough to frighten her into confiding but it just wasn’t in him. The moment he saw her naked, his own instincts took over. It was as if his body wasn’t his own. Never before had the sight of a woman driven him to such heights of lust. Her delicate wrist bones were held tight in his hand. The feel of her small hips writhing under him sent him into a delirium of urgent need. Somewhere along the way he forgot his original intention.

  He lowered his mouth to hers, careful of her wound but tasting her sweet full lips, feeling the tip of her tongue hesitantly touch his own—like a butterfly wing. He groaned and slowed his movements, letting his mind be engulfed by that butterfly as she became more confident and ran the tip of her tongue along the insides of his lips.

  It was no use. His ruthless intentions fled like wisps of swamp gas. He was just as much a victim as she was, caught in a web of his own making. But for now, he didn’t care.

  Catey was vaguely aware of the fact Jess had softened and tenderness had returned to his eyes. She was lost again in sensations that robbed her of the ability to think clearly. She reveled in the feel of his warmth, his body full against her own, his penis deep within her—moving sensually, now. She moved her own hips sinuously, circling his manhood and heightening her own pleasure. When he kissed her, she felt a primal need to move her own tongue into that softness at the corners of his mouth and just inside his lips. He groaned, releasing her wrist and she felt encouraged, moving her arms around him and letting her fingers drift down the muscles of his back, then tracing the perfect roundness of his buttocks, feeling them tighten with each thrust.

  Primal sensations mounted inside her and she closed her eyes, letting Jess take her to the golden brink. She hung there, poised, for what seemed an eternity until, in a starburst, she climaxed, caught in a vortex that swirled her into a universe of ecstasy. She cried out with joy as he shot his hot seed inside her, vaguely aware of his own moan of pleasure and the moist sheen of sweat that bathed them both.

  They lay still for some time, half dozing. She refused to listen to the voice in her head that called her shameful.

  For his part, Jess was only mildly aware of an uneasy sense of confusion. Was he losing control? Was he actually falling for this girl? What was it about her that made him weak? Why did the feel of her send hot lava flooding through his veins? How was it he simply couldn’t get enough of her? Why, when she looked at him in just that way, did he feel a constriction in his chest? Christ! he thought, I don’t need this right now.

  * * * * *

  Catey stood in the darkened room, gazing out into the night. A warm breeze blew in from the bayou, bringing with it the familiar scent of mud, moss and wood rot. The curtains billowed gently and the thin muslin shift she’d found in her mother’s closet pressed gently against her body. The breeze was welcome, cooling. Her body was still hot, her skin tingling, even though Jess had left her hours before.

  She knew he was angry but what could she do? Sarah’s life was in her hands. She couldn’t and wouldn’t tell anyone about her sister. She only hoped to God Sarah was safely away. But where would she go?

  A shiver of fear overtook her as she considered the possibilities. What if Sarah had gone to Pine Ridge? The thought of her sister being discovered by the notorious Leroy Clemens made her stomach churn. No, surely Sarah would know better. She’d undoubtedly stay hidden in the forest. She, Sarah and her brothers knew the woods around here as well as anyone. Sarah would be safe there—if she didn’t go too close to the swamps. Hopefully she’d make her way to the small town of Hamilton as quickly as possible. It was the only course of action that made sense. She prayed to God Sarah would have the sense not to come back to Allendale.

  Catey put a hand to her still swollen and hot cheek. There was no lasting damage but it would be a colorful reminder to the men that she belonged to Jess. She wondered why Jess tried to stop her. Why did he care? Why hadn’t he done it himself?

  Down below, the moonlight in the yard was bright. She could barely make out the old wooden swing hanging from the huge oak at the far end near the forest’s edge. Shadows drifted aimlessly as clouds scudded across the moon. Then suddenly she froze, staring. Was that a shadow of a different kind? She put
her hands on the window ledge and peered intently. Yes! Someone was out there. She could see a figure, bent over, dart from one tree to the next. The figure squatted down, as though inspecting the house.

  “Sarah!” she whispered. God no! She can’t come in here!

  Her parents’ room was situated on the second floor. From this side, it appeared there was no way down but Catey knew more about this house than anyone. The jasmine trellis clung to the wall next to the window, the jasmine vines sinking tendrils into the white painted brick of the walls, making the trellis strong. Catey knew it would go badly for her if she was discovered. Jess would have no recourse but to punish her in front of the men—and she wasn’t at all sure Jess would be able to protect her if she was caught by any of the others.

  But if the figure outside in the night was indeed Sarah, Catey must warn her to stay away. Maybe devise a plan—tell her where they could meet. Without further consideration, she climbed nimbly out the window, stretching sideways to find a toehold on the trellis.

  Chapter Four

  “I’ve rubbed down the horses and put them in the stables, Sir.” Young Billy Cabot looked tired and far too thin. His face was pale but he managed to pull himself erect as he spoke. Jess knew Billy was suffering from dysentery but there wasn’t much he could do about it. The kid was wasting away right before his eyes.

  “Was there any feed?” he asked, trying to hide his alarm at the gray pallor in Cabot’s face.

  “Some.” Billy’s knuckles were white where he gripped his tattered hat in his hands.

  “Thank you, Private. Now go get yourself something to eat.”

  “Yessir.”

  Jess watched him stagger off, feeling suddenly very tired—and angry at the unfairness of war. Billy was a good kid and didn’t deserve to suffer. There wasn’t much food but they were able to find enough to put together a meager meal. He hoped Billy would be able to keep something in him.

  Jess chewed thoughtfully on a dry corn muffin. His thoughts turned to Catey. What was he going to do with her? He wished there were some way he could get her away before Clemens showed up but he knew she’d have no chance on her own and he certainly couldn’t just run off—not with Clemens drooling for a way to have him court-martialed. The possibility that Catey had a sister wandering alone and unprotected out there made him cringe inside. He and his men had ridden for days through the relative wilderness of Mississippi and Louisiana. They’d battled snakes, Rebs, hunger, thirst, disease and gators. Eight of the men—well armed and in relatively good health—hadn’t survived. How in the hell could a woman, alone and unarmed?

  If he could find the sister first, maybe somehow he could protect her too. But, then, maybe Catey was telling the truth. Maybe it was just a slip of the tongue. Surely she’d tell him if she had a sister.

  Suddenly the vision of Catey’s stubborn glare filled his mind and he all but smiled. She’d never tell him anything willingly—not in a million years. So far she’d told him nothing about herself or her family. The realization made him feel oddly irritated. Why didn’t she trust him? He sighed deeply. He knew why and it made him sick. In another time or place, perhaps she’d feel differently about him. But this…this was no way to win a lady.

  He grabbed another piece of cornbread, wrapped it in his kerchief and headed for the stairs. At least he wouldn’t let her starve to death.

  * * * * *

  Catey hadn’t stopped to dress for climbing. Barefoot and still in her mother’s shift, it was too late to go back by the time she realized her mistake. The jasmine vines were prickly, the twigs and branches scraped and scratched her delicate skin. The trellis itself was rough and difficult to navigate. By the time she reached the ground, she was thoroughly scratched, cut and bruised. Her hands and feet throbbed. But she didn’t have time to worry about herself. She must get to Sarah and warn her.

  She slunk to the corner of the house, keeping an eagle eye on the crouched shadow near the oak. She peered around the yard, straining her ears for any sign of approaching footsteps. When she was sure no one was near, she made a dash across the open lawn. She knew her white gown would be all too visible in the moonlight.

  She reached the swing and fell to her knees, panting.

  “Sarah!” she hissed, peering into the deeper shadows around the tree. There was no answer. “Sarah, it’s me—Catey!” Silence. Now she began to worry. What if the shadow figure wasn’t Catey at all? What if it was one of Jess’ men? Or worse, one of Leroy Clemens’ men! With one last desperate look around, she began to back away. Then suddenly there was the crack of a twig behind her and a large hand clapped over her mouth. She automatically screamed and thrashed but her sounds were muffled and her struggles, useless.

  “Shh, now, Miss Catherine. Don’ you be afraid. It’s Big John. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” The voice was low and gentle. “I’se brought Mr. Emery. He’s hurt. Please, you gots to hush, now.”

  At the sound of her brother’s name, Catey ceased her struggles and the hand came away. She turned, wide-eyed and stared into the face of Big John—her daddy’s most valued slave. Without thought, she threw herself into his arms. “Oh, John! It’s so good to see you.”

  Not quite certain what to do, the big man patted her back awkwardly. “Yes’m. Surely is, surely is…”

  Catey pulled away. “What did you say about Emery? Is he here?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He be right over there.” John was obviously pleased to be on topic again.

  Catey was already crawling swiftly to where he’d pointed. The figure she’d seen—leaning up against the tree. It was Emery.

  “Em!” She nearly sobbed with relief and would have thrown herself into his arms too but John touched her gently.

  “He’s hurt, miss. He ain’t doin’ too good. It’s his shoulder—he been shot.”

  Catey swiped tears of joy from her cheeks and looked closer. Emery’s eyes were closed and even in the darkness, she could see how pale he was. His face was gaunt, his dark, disheveled hair and unshaven face made him look even paler by contrast.

  She put a tentative hand to his face and felt it flushed and moist. But as she touched him, his eyes opened and he looked at her for the first time.

  “Catey? Catey?” It was a strangled whisper but at least he wasn’t delirious.

  “Yes. Yes, darlin’, it’s me. Everything’s going to be okay, now,” she crooned soothingly. Her eyes flicked to his shoulder where dirty bandages were soaked with dried blood. She bent and kissed him gently on the forehead. The skin was cold but tasted of sweat.

  She turned to John. The big black man knelt behind her, his eyes wide with worry.

  “I didn’t know what t’ do fo’ him, miss. He just kep’ sayin’ ‘take me home, John’, so I did.”

  Catey put a hand on his and nodded. “You did right, John.” She glanced back at Emery. His eyes were shut again. What would she do? He needed a doctor.

  “Take him to the barn,” she said at last, “hide him in the room behind the hayloft. No one knows about it. Keep him quiet. Do you have water? Food?”

  John nodded. “I kin gets water, ma’am. And I’ll find somethin’ for us t’ eat.”

  “Good,” she said, “I’ll try to get help as soon as I can. And if not, I’ll just have to deal with it myself. Is the bullet still in there?”

  “Yas’m. I think that’s what’s makin’ him sick.”

  “Undoubtedly.” She gazed at her brother, wondering what on earth she would do. Finally she leaned over and kissed Emery again, stroking his hair gently. This time he didn’t open his eyes. “Take him, John. I’ll bring help as soon as I can.”

  John nodded and turned to Emery, lifting him effortlessly. With only one quick backward look, he disappeared soundlessly into the deep shadows of the woods.

  Catey squatted there for some moments, racking her brain for some answer to her dilemma. How could she help Emery? Certainly she could try to get the bullet out herself but she knew nothing about it and might do more h
arm than good. The only thing she could think to do was to tell Jess. But could she trust him—really trust him? It was one thing to keep a woman alive for lust of her body but quite another to help her save an enemy soldier. Whatever the case, she had to get back before she was missed.

  She stood up and glanced swiftly around, ready to make her dash back to the trellis. She’d taken only a few running steps when she was brought to a halt by what felt like a wooden plank driven into her midriff. She felt her breath go out in a whoosh and at the same time the plank turned into an arm that wrapped around her waist, holding her immobile. She tried to scream but all that came out was a small squeak.

  “Well, what have we here?”

  She looked up into the eyes of Daryl Cripps and fresh fear coursed through her body like mercury. She could smell alcohol on his already fetid breath and his eyes glinted a bit too brightly.

  She opened her mouth once more, this time ready to let go with a piercing screech but she felt the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed suddenly against her neck. She froze, feeling suddenly faint.

  “Now, missy, you wouldn’t want to go and make a lot of noise, would ya? This here gun might just go off if you do.”

  She shook her head ever-so slightly, clamping her trembling lips together.

  “That’s a good girl,” he said. His grip loosened slightly and she breathed in deeply, almost gagging on the stench of him. He’d obviously not bathed in months.

  “Now you just come over here where we can have us some fun.” He lifted her off her feet and carried her to the shadows of the trees, dropping her in a heap on the leaf-strewn ground.

  She sat there, staring at his boots, starkly aware she was totally at his mercy. She lifted her eyes, grimacing at the lascivious leer on his face.

  “Stand up,” he said, gesturing with the barrel of his gun.

  She slowly rose to her feet, feeling her knees weak and barely able to hold her upright.

  He smiled slowly. “Now then, you little Southern bitch, I want you to strip for me. I want to see what all the fuss is about.”