Chapter 6

The minute he was out of sight, Abby wrenched at the ropes around her wrists. She tried to turn to get a better look at them, but the rope holding her feet together tripped her and she stumbled. Her weight tugged painfully on her wrists as she struggled to get her feet under her.

A breeze picked up and she shivered at the chilly air on her bottom and thighs. He’d left her stockings and boots, but they didn’t do much toward protecting her from the weather. She tugged again on the ropes, desperate to get them to loosen. She let out a frustrated curse. All she’d managed to do was rub her skin raw. Panting, she leaned her head back against the rough tree bark and tried not to cry.

Why had she ever left Kansas City? She’d been safe there. The farm had been her home as much as Benjamin’s and Martha’s. She could have stood up for herself and lived comfortably, if not happily. Or, she could have used her savings to buy another place. It would have been a much smarter decision, despite the constant reminder of her husband.

Tears fell unchecked as she remembered Matthew, his kind face and easy smile, gentle hands and warm wit. “Why did you leave me, Matthew? I miss you so damned much.” The wind stole her words away as she let her grief and fear out. By the time she heard Caleb’s heavy bootsteps, she’d dried her tears on the sleeve of her bodice and composed herself.

He whistled as he laid a fire and dressed the rabbit he’d caught. Using two forked sticks, he propped the spitted carcass over the flame. After checking the horses, he squatted down to rinse his hands in the little stream near their camp. How could he be so calm and cheerful after kidnapping a woman and forcing an unwanted marriage on her?

After he’d dried his hands on a bit of linen, he untied her from the tree and eased her to the ground before securing her wrists to the rope holding her ankles together. The position made her hunch over to rest her chin on her knees. He sat across from her and grinned. She wanted to slap that aggravating smile right off his face.

“I reckon you’re due a punishment, and I’ve calculated it out. I’m going to give you one stripe for every day you were gone from our homestead.” He reached over and tapped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “By my calculations, it was one hundred and seventy days.”

He let her go and she looked away, her guts watery with fear. She’d already had more than a taste of his punishments and wanted nothing to do with it. The thought of so many stripes was appalling. He continued speaking and she had to force herself to listen.

“Now, to ease your mind, I’m not going to do them all at once.” The corners of his lips twitched up into a smile. “My arm would get plumb tuckered out, so we’ll do ten a day until we have all of them.” He uncoiled a short whip from a loop on his belt and held it up.

The antler handle was elegantly carved to fit his hand. Braided leather tails fell from the handle and shone wickedly in the waning sunlight. She shivered and lowered her head, unwilling to look at it. He pulled hairpins free, allowing her long curls to trail down her back. With one hand, he tugged her hair, forcing her to look up as he held that cruel whip in front of her face.

“You will count every single stripe out loud. They won’t be subtracted from what you owe unless you open that pretty mouth and say the numbers, Mrs. Walsh.”

She opened her mouth to scream at him, deny him, say something that would stop his madness, but he laid a hand over her lips. “That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. I suggest you close it until I’m finished telling you how it’s going to be.”

Bending forward, he untied her boots and slipped them from her feet. Tying the laces together, he suspended them from a tall branch, well out of her reach. “Where was I? Oh, yes.” He squatted on his heels in front of her. “I know you well enough to be sure that you’ll earn yourself more stripes on top of what you’ve got coming for running off. I’ll be using my belt for those, and you’ll still get your ten stripes with the quirt.”

Teasing a curl away from her face, he trailed a hand down her cheek. “The most important thing you have to remember is that I don’t take any pleasure from punishing you, but you’ll get every single one you earn.” Letting her hair go, he asked, “Do you have any questions?”

Her throat was dry and she had to cough to get the words out. She tried to refuse the canteen he held for her, but he caught her hair and forced her to drink. Water trickled down her chin when he pulled it away. “What do I have to do?”

He smiled, looking for a moment like he was a normal, sane man with a new bride. “All you have to do is be a wife. Be a good girl and obey my wishes.” He stroked her arm and his eyes darkened when she shuddered. “You’ve been married already. You know what you have to do.”

Her lips parted as if she would speak. She shook her head and closed her mouth, leaving him to wonder what she’d planned to say. Maybe she was learning better manners. Time would tell on that. He untied her feet and helped her up. He rubbed her arms to get her blood moving and scowled down at her icy hands. The ropes had cut into her flesh, leaving her wrists raw and swollen.

He pulled his knife free and she flinched when the cold blade touched her skin. “Hush. I’m just cutting you free. I’ll do something else to keep you from running off.”

She held still, though he could feel the tension in her body as he cut through the ropes. It made him sad that she didn’t trust him not to cut her. They were even on that. He didn’t trust her not to run off at the first opportunity.

She rubbed her wrists, trying to ease the chafed skin. “May I have my skirt back, please?”

“Yes, but not tonight.” He wrapped a hand around her neck and marched her toward a tree, positioning her hands on the trunk so that she was bent at the waist. She let out a soft whimper as he nudged her feet apart with his boot. “Point your toes in, and don’t move until we’re finished.”

He loosened the quirt and snapped it, watching as she jumped at the loud report. “What else do you have to do, Abby?”

“You said I have to count.” Her voice was soft and he had to lean close to hear her.

“Good girl. Now, relax and make sure to speak up. It’ll be over before you know it.” The position he’d put her in kept her from tightening her muscles. He kneaded her round bottom, preparing his target. When her flesh turned a blushing pink with increased circulation, he stepped back and lifted his quirt.