Chapter 1

That's the most unspeakably vulgar thing... I've ever heard!" Joan Wright said, blushing, as she turned her head in embarrassment, not daring to look up into the arrogant eyes of the man who stood relaxed and at ease beside the partly demolished fuselage of the wrecked plane.

"What's the matter, Mrs. Wright... haven't you ever been propositioned before?" he asked, his eyes, crinkling at the corners into deep crow's feet, his disarming smile revealing straight, white and even teeth contrasting with the deep tan of his lean, good-looking face.

"Under the circumstances... I-I hardly expected... something like this... Mr. Henson!" she faltered.

"Call me Buzz!"

"No, thank you, Mr. Henson... We're going to remain just as we were! There'll be no... personal relationships!"

"Think it over... Joan..." he began, but her flashing, angry eyes stopped him.

She snapped, "Mrs. Wright... to you!"

"Mrs. Wright..." he mocked. "You're not in a very good position to bargain!"

"Why should I have to bargain... with you?"

"Very simple... I've got something you want... and..." he leered, looking up and down her trim sensuous figure. "You've got something... I want!"

"The answer, Mr. Henson... is a definite no!"

His slow, confident smile was maddening to her; she turned away from him, her eyes misting with disappointment she would never allow him to see, and walked the ten yards or so across the small natural clearing to the rude shelter where her husband lay on his sleeping bag. She stopped in front of the lean-to and for the thousandth time scanned the bright, blue sky, shading her eyes against the glare, hoping and praying that this time a search plane would flit into view; likewise her ears strained for the sound of an airplane engine. There was nothing in the sky except dipping, caroling birds and flitting insects. The wind, sighing through the upper branches of the forest seemed extraordinarily loud in her ears as her now more than sensitive ears caught heretofore unnoticed sounds of the wilderness. The creaking of branches, the chatter of squirrels, the buzz of insect wings and the gurgling sounds of water over the rocks in the stream bed that clove through the small glade.

Under other circumstances, it would have been an idyllic paradise, far from the cares and pressures of everyday city life, and she would have been tempted to stay, make it her own retreat, a Shangri-La where a person could live a simple life of peace and contemplation. The circumstances, however, made it, for her less than a paradise, lower than a heaven on earth; actually, more like a hell on earth... ever since their plane had hurtled through the tree tops to crash in grinding, metal-tortured horror in this northern wilderness. With a conscious act of will she blotted out the details of the plane's terrifying descent and subsequent violent crunch to earth in this isolated and God-forsaken spot. The memory of those moments were too vivid, too laden with fear and terror for her.

OOOooooh! God! We're going to crash! We'll all be killed! Not now, God! Oh, Please... not now... !

Joan looked down at her husband, his bandage-swathed head lying on the rough material of the sleeping bag a further reminder to her of those awful moments. Jim had been sitting in the copilot's seat when the plane had gone into the ground, flinging him forward, his head striking hard against the instrument panel, knocking him unconscious and opening a mean looking gash in his forehead. He had been unconscious for a day and a half; since then he had had periods of consciousness, during which he seemed to be lucid, lapsing after an hour or so into incoherent mouthings followed by another siege of total blackout. His moans of pain had prompted her to ask Buzz Henson, the pilot, whether there were some kind of pain relieving tablets in the medicine supplies. The innocent question had been distorted and turned back upon her. She had fled.

"Sure, there are some codeine tablets in there... why?"

He made no move to get them from the kit. Instead, he had lounged back, easily, his hands in his pockets and a lewd smile played over his face.

"My husband... is having quite a lot of pain... and I'd like to give him something... to ease it..."

"I'm sure you do... Mrs. Wright... What are they worth to you?" Buzz asked.

"Well... I didn't think I'd have to pay for them! Just a moment... I'll go get my purse... and I'd pay whatever they'd be worth in a regular drugstore..."

"I'm not talking about money... Joan!"

"Oh... ?"

She was surprised at his use of her first name; it became a little too personal. He was a charter pilot, and, to her, it seemed he was assuming too much, too soon. True, he was a handsome man of trim, athletic build and proportions, standing almost six feet tall, with blond, sun-streaked hair and ice-blue eyes.

"Out here," he said, looking, pointedly, around at the crash site with an air of complete confidence, "out here... no amount of money could buy those pain pills! I'm the captain in charge and they might be needed for something more serious later."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Henson... I just don't... seem to follow you... at all..."

"Look, Joan... you're a big girl, now... a married woman... and you surely know all about the birds and bees..." he said, sarcasm dripping from his statement.

Joan's cheeks flamed with tardy understanding. She gasped, "You mean... ?"

"I mean... if you want those codeine tablets bad enough... you'll be willing to pay for them with the only negotiable currency you've got... !"

"That's inhuman... ! You'd be denying another person... something he needs... !" she argued.

"Correction! I'm being very human! I need something, too... and it's spelled S*E*X*! In other words I want to fuck you!"

The word hung vibrant in the air between them, and Joan had broken off the conversation with the pilot to return to the shelter where her husband lay.

Buzz Henson watched her walk away from him, her haughty shoulders squared, indignantly, head held high. He noted how well her full, rounded buttocks filled the bright yellow shorts she wore, her thighs tapering, parabolically, down to dainty knees that linked to finely curved calves and trim ankles. The blouse had left nothing to the imagination, its sheer cloth revealing ample, up-thrusting breasts held up by a skimpy bra that threatened to release the burden of her full white fleshy bounty at the slightest provocation.

She'll be back! I'd bet on it! Damn! What a woman!

Joan sat down, tiredly, dejectedly, beside her husband. She refused to allow herself the luxury of tears; their present predicament was too desperate. They had crashed in rugged mountain country somewhere south and east of Havre, Montana. Buzz had guessed, after studying his maps carefully, that they had gone down in the Lion's Paw Mountains.

"It's probably called Lion's Paw because of the general shape... but we're one hell of a long ways from any civilization... for sure!" Buzz had said, impressing them with the seriousness of their position.

Andy Sloan had added, mildly, "We're fortunate it's late summer... instead of winter time..."

"Who in hell would want to come up here during the winter?" Buzz challenged.

The older man had looked away and mumbled vaguely, "I suppose... there are... some people..."

He had avoided the clash of will and of personality with the young, daredevil pilot; after a while, he had arisen and walked down across the little meadow to the stream.

Jim moaned and opened his eyes. He focused on Joan sitting beside him, his hand going out toward her. She turned toward him, happily, as his hand touched her back.

"Oh, Jim! You're awake... again! How do you feel, Darling?"

"Lousy!"

"Is your head still hurting as bad as it was... ?"

"Worse... ! It keeps pounding away... like it's going to tear my ears off!" he complained.

Joan looked at his drawn face, his eyes haggard and burning in his ashen face. She knew that he suffered, and that a measure of relief, in the form of pain-relieving pills was available a few paces away.

Dear God! I'm faced with a dilemma that's almost unsolvable! And... I don't know what way to turn... It's tearing me up... inside, to see Jimmy in such pain... I feel like I have to do something to help him... give him some relief... But, Buzz controls the medicines... and food... and everything! He's made clear what he wants... Me! He wants to m-make l-love... to me... in exchange for the codeine tablets! He's putting it on a primitive barter basis! Oh, Dear Lord... What am I to do... ?

With a long, drawn-out groan, her husband's body shuddered and he lapsed, again, into unconsciousness.

She leaned over him. "Jim! Oh, Jim? Oh, My God... My Darling!" she sobbed.

Her heart went out to him. She loved her husband with all of her heart and soul; her whole life revolved around him. It had never occurred to her before that she could ever lose him. Now, the morbid thought of impending death... her husband's death... Jim, her Jim, hung over her, paralyzing her with fear.

The words of the wedding vow knifed through her. Yes! God, Yes! She would cling to him! He was hurt... in pain! He needed her, now, in his time of suffering! All she had been able to do for him, up to this point, was make him comfortable, dress his wound and feed him. Now, she had discovered she could do more; a drug was available to ease his pain. In her frantic mind, the acquisition of the pain-reliever was of foremost importance.

Jim! Oh, Jimmy! I love you so terribly much! I'd do anything for you! But, the horrible bargain I'll have to make... just to get those pills! Ugh! Let another man... make love to me... violate my body... My body that's pledged only to my husband! And... violate the wedding vows... break the commandment! Oh, Dear God! l need help! I can't make a decision like this! It's too enormous... too frightening... to think that I'd be forced to break the laws of man... and God! I can't do it... I just can't do it! Everything's out of balance!

Suddenly, Jim began to mumble. "God! Look out! Going in... ! Hang on! Joan! Joan! Jooaan!" Then, a horrible groan escaped his lips, the sound of it stabbed like a searing spike being driven into her brain.

Dear God! Would I be guilty... of a greater sin... if I let him suffer... and did nothing to help? It would be inhuman... barbaric! I'm still a human being who cares... who loves deeply! I've always heard... there are some things that money can't buy! Buzz said I had only one negotiable currency... my body! Out here... in this wilderness... values are changed... different, but my love for Jimmy hasn't changed! In this insane, distorted value system... of barter... that Buzz insists we follow... I don't have much choice... No choice in fact! I can do nothing... and let Jim suffer... or I can give in to Buzz... and get the pills... to help relieve has pain! It's as simple as that!... And, all I've been taught about morality has to be thrown out the window! Oh, I'm so confused! What can I do... ? Oh, God... what shall I do? I need help! Help me now... please... Oh, please...

Thinking she must do something... anything, she rose, went to the cooking area, selected a small aluminum pan and walked down to the gurgling little stream of ice-cold water; at least, she told herself, she could bathe Jim's face with the cold water, hoping that what little comfort it afforded would ease him, perhaps help to lower his temperature.

Buzz Henson watched her; he knew that she was troubled, the burden of his unorthodox bargain weighing heavily upon her. He wanted a drink from the stream, anyway, so he walked to where she knelt filling the pan with the crystal clear water.

He stood behind her, his eyes raking her luscious body, hungrily, noting the milky-white skin revealed between the waistband of her shorts and the square cut tail of her blouse, the vertebrae marching up her back, higher, the ridges of her ribs curving softly and, below, the nipping curve of her waist flaring into the provocative curve of her hips; her globoid buttocks wagged in the air back at him, as she dipped the water then sat back on her heels. He had a sudden vision of those same buttocks, bare, shoving back at him as his hardened maleness plunged into the coral moistness of her widespread pussy. God! His penis jerked erect, throbbingly, reminding him how long it had been since he'd had a good, satisfying sexual encounter. Damn! She's absolutely beautiful! I don't know when I've wanted any woman more than I want her... right now!

Joan was aware, now, that he stood there, behind her. She had to remain calm, cool... distant; this man must not be allowed to get inside her defenses. Getting to her feet, she turned and faced him. His arrogant blue eyes smiled lewdly down into her own green-hued orbs. The revulsion in her as she saw his lust, caused her to step around him without a word. He caught her elbow and swung her back to face him.

"Not so fast... Joan! We have some unfinished business!"

"No! No... we don't, Mr. Henson! There's nothing for us... to discuss!" she flared.

Buzz lounged back, relaxed, his tone conversational as he gave her directions.

"Up on top of that little ridge... to the north, there's a big oak tree... and a beautiful view... After lunch... say about one-thirty... I'm going to be there, by that big oak! If you change your mind... come up and join me there! All you have to do is follow the stream up about two hundred yards where there's a little waterfall... then up the east slope. It's not hard to find... if you want to..."

"If you'll be so kind as to release me... I'll go back and... attend to the needs of my husband!"

"You're a stuck-up little bitch... aren't you? Is that the Vassar treatment you're giving me... Or is it Bryn Mawr... ?"

"You're vulgar... and insulting!" Joan snapped.

"I'm real... real and realistic! I don't need that veneer of good manners to get what I want!"

"Perhaps so, Mr. Henson... but those schools don't have an exclusive on those things! I went to an equally good school in the Mid-West... One you wouldn't recognize, if I told you the name. If you'll excuse me... please?"

The tall, tanned pilot grinned at her and released his grasp on her elbow.

"I'll be waiting!" he said with supreme confidence.

Joan stepped around him and made her way back to the shelter. Jim was still unconscious; however, as she began to bathe his face in the icy water, he opened his eyes and looked at her, pain grimaced and contorted his face. He groaned.

"Oh, my poor Darling!" she soothed, leaning down to kiss him on the lips. "I'm doing all I can to make it better!"

Even as she said it, she knew it was not true. There was one thing she had not done! In that flashing instant she made her decision.

According to the plan of action outlined to them by Buzz Henson, soon after the crash, it was her turn to prepare the noon meal beginning at 11:30. She went about her duties, using the food that Buzz rationed; additionally, there was a fat squirrel Buzz had killed and dressed out. He gave it to her with instructions to make a stew of it. She obeyed him; his will had been imposed upon them all in matters of their survival.

She reflected upon the fast pace of events. Before the crash Andrew Sloan, Jim's immediate boss in the architectural firm of Sloan, Kitchen and Wilson, had been in complete command of everything, having organized their entire vacation trip and confidently arranging the details of their entire existence from the time they had begun to get ready for it. After the plane had crunched into the glade where they were now trapped, Andy Sloan had seemed to come apart at the seams. His orders were uncertain, his decisions unsound, and on the second day, Buzz had quietly, confidently, asserted his authority over them, deposing the older man from his position of leadership. Andy, when he realized what had happened, that his role had been usurped, had verbally castigated Buzz Henson, ranting and raving and making ludicrous threats concerning the dire punishments facing Buzz for getting them all into this damned mess. Buzz had listened, but brought the monologue to an end when the older man began repeating himself.

"Mr. Sloan... I realize you're a big wheel... in your office, sitting behind your desk, but we're in one hell of a serious situation! It can't be solved by making a phone call... or calling in an assistant. Decisions have to be made here... in terms of life or death. Now, I've seen you make some pretty foolish judgments since yesterday... and I feel if we're going to get off this mountain alive... it'll be up to me to get us off, so from now on I'm the Head Honcho!"

Andy reacted; there was nothing left him now but action. He had to do it... to save what vestige of dignity was left him. His fist came sizzling from right field, a roundhouse blow that telegraphed itself to Buzz who stood alertly ready. The pilot side-stepped the furious attack and countered with a quick left jab. Sloan slumped to the ground, his eyes glazing, but he was not unconscious. He shook his head to clear his vision.

"You bastard!" he spat, a small rivulet of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. The architect rubbed his jaw.

The pilot stood over the fallen man. "Mr. Sloan... I'm sorry I had to do that... but you gave me no other choice. Now, get this straight... We'll have only one person in charge! Me!"

Gayle Sloan had helped her husband to his feet and led him away, unresisting, to the stream, where she had attended to the superficial wound. They were gone a long time; Gayle talked, and Andy listened, morosely. When they had returned, Andy, manfully, told Buzz that he would now do whatever was required of him.

Buzz had organized the camp, taking charge of all food, medicine and arms, directing the erection of shelters, the laying of signal fires, setting up sky-watch schedules and detailing the work that must be done to accomplish these things. Order had emerged from the general chaos that had existed, and the morale of the group was noticeably improved.

The noon meal was soon prepared. Buzz ate, sparingly, silently, remarked politely on the tastiness of the food, took a small bore pistol and moved off up the stream to relieve the Sloans who were on sky-watch at the top of the ridge. She watched him stride away, his lithe, animalistic grace carrying him rapidly out of sight. Grudgingly, she had to admit to herself that he was an attractive, virile man, visceral in the extreme, confident of his ability and seemingly unafraid of anything. She decided one word would describe him. Cocky!

In a few moments Andy and Gayle Sloan came down from the ridge to eat. Joan greeted them and served them the simple fare. Gayle was bubbly and talkative; Andy was glum.

"It was something really exciting, this morning," Gayle spouted, hardly able to contain herself. "We heard some kind of large animal snorting and moving around in the woods... and then... when we were coming back down here we saw this big paw print... ! I told Andy it must be a Grizzly Bear... and..."

Andy cut in, "You're just assuming it was a Grizzly... I told you before... there aren't any in this part of the country!"

"Well... I don't know for sure that it was a Grizzly Bear... but that was an awfully big paw print we saw!"

Joan shuddered. "Heavens! I hope you're wrong... Gayle!"

"Of course she's wrong... ! All the Grizzlies are way south of here... down in the Yellowstone National Park area!"

Gayle withdrew from the verbal affray. She changed the subject to speculation of how much longer it would be before they would be rescued. Andy confronted her, again, on this subject.

"Our Hero isn't going to get us out of here! If we get out... we'll walk out... just like I said at the beginning!"

"O.K... so let's walk!" Gayle flung back. "... But what direction... and how far? I agree with Buzz... We're better off sticking right here with the plane!"

The older woman broke off the conversation by leaving the cooking fire and going to their leanto shelter. Andy soon wandered off to gather firewood, a small ax in his hand.

Joan cleaned the dishes and cooking utensils at the stream and returned to Jim, carrying a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee. She found him awake and lucid. Helping him to a sitting position, she oversaw his meal and made him comfortable. He still seemed to experience a great deal of pain, complaining of terrific pounding pains in his head. He questioned her concerning the seriousness of their situation.

"What does Buzz think?" he asked.

"That we should stay here and wait for search planes."

"Andy... ?"

"He thinks we should try to walk out."

"Gayle?"

"She agrees with Buzz."

"... And, what do you think, Darling?"

"That we should stay here!" she asserted.

"Andy's off base... I think we should stay, too!"

"I'm glad, Jimmy... that you agree... because you shouldn't be moved... yet, you know."

"Yeah, I think you're right... I'd slow the rest of you down!" he reasoned.

Suddenly, Jim clutched at his head and emitted a deep groan. He laid back on the sleeping bag, his eyes closed, as continuous moans came from his lips. She was frantic.

"Oh, Jim! Jim, Darling!" she sobbed in her helplessness.

Oh, God! Please! Please? Help me take care of him!

He was soon asleep, or unconscious. She watched him, closely, for several minutes. Knowing that she could do nothing more for him, she crept from the shelter, making sure that her husband was comfortable and walked to the stream to follow it up towards the ridge where Buzz Henson waited for her.

Joan found the pilot stretched out on a blanket, lazily watching her approach. She had not been on the ridge before; there was a truly breathless view of the surrounding country. She looked around, enthralled.

"It's simply beautiful..." she said, gasping for breath from the steep climb.

"Yes," he agreed. "It's nice... but wild and rugged!"

"... And dangerous... ?" she queried. "Gayle said she saw a huge paw print... she seemed to think there might be Grizzly Bears around..."

"I saw them, too! There's a possibility of it... I heard they sometimes remove dangerous bears from Yellowstone... and release them in remote areas... like this," he explained.

"Oh! Heavens! I-I didn't really think..." she stumbled, frightened, now, suddenly.

"There's no need to worry... most wild animals try to avoid humans! They won't bother you... if you leave them alone!" he assured her.

She sat down on a nearby fallen log. She didn't look at him; her gaze was focused on the jumble of ridges, marching off into the north in varying shades of blue, forested and rock-strewn... a virgin wilderness. The sound of a chopping ax came to them in the distance, down below, beyond the small natural meadow where the ruined airplane rested. She decided it had to be Andy making that sound. The ax-blows stopped and the great silence beat in upon her. She had to explain herself.

"Mr. Henson... I-I didn't come up here... t-to make a bargain... ! I came to ask you... in God's name... to feel some compassion... sympathy... for another human being... and allow my husband to have those codeine tablets. He needs them!... And... for God's sake... don't ask me... t-to do something... monstrous... and immoral! I just couldn't do it!"

"Why... ?" he asked, quietly.

"I'm a married woman... a-and I take my vows seriously."

"If we'd not crashed, and you were safe in the camp you were headed for... would you have gone to bed with your husband's boss... Mr. Andrew Sloan?

"No!" she snapped. "That's preposterous... unthinkable!"

"A couple of people must have thought of it! I gathered from a conversation... I-ah-overheard that Bigshot Andy had ideas along that line..."

"You must have heard wrong... misconstrued something..."

The pilot smiled. "My hearing's good... and I put two and two together real well!"

"Who was he talking to... ?"

"Your husband!" he gloated.

"Jimmy... !?"

"None other!"

"Why... that's insane! Impossible!" she blurted. "Why? Why would... m-my husband be a party to... to something... so..."

She was overcome; she couldn't go on. Her tears scalded her eyes and she turned her head away from him, remembering her vow that she would not allow this man to bring down her defenses. Buzz raised himself to an elbow and went on talking to the haughty, unbowed back she presented him.

"Promotion... ? More money... ?... A chance to lay Sloan's wife... ? You know... she's quite a woman, herself..."

"No! No... it couldn't be! He's already been offered a promotion... and a raise... ! And, Jimmy wouldn't do that... to m-me! We're married! We love each other! Why would h-he want another w-woman... ?"

"I don't know, I'm sure... Maybe you can answer that yourself... are you good to him... in bed... ? If you're not... he might be looking for something better... more action, maybe. He's a man... a normal sort of guy... I'd say. And, sex is pretty important to most men. Think it over... ! Maybe, you'll find the answer in yourself!" Buzz said with brutal frankness.

"You suggest a lot of answers... f-for me..." she said. "What about you... ? What makes you do what y-you're doing... ? Forcing me t-to bargain with you... my body... in exchange for pain pills m-my husband desperately needs... ?"

"I told you before, Joan... it's very simple... I like sex! It's a basic and very elemental drive... and I want to fuck you... because you're a very beautiful... and available woman!"

"Married... or not... ?" she queried, sarcastically, ignoring his use of the lewd word.

"It really makes no difference!"

"And Gayle Sloan... ? Is she next on your list of conquests?"

"No... you are! I've already laid her!"

"My God!" Joan flared. "What conceit! You're so damned arrogant! Bragging about it! You're a regular satyr... aren't you... ?" The sarcasm dripped from her lips, caustically.

"No... just honest! I was merely stating a fact!" the pilot said.

"You're so cocky... you really do think that I'm going to be next... don't you?"

"The fact that you're here... speaks pretty loud and clear... to me!" Buzz said.

Suddenly, Joan felt trapped! She had made a mistake in coming up on the ridge to talk to Buzz Henson; he had not changed his mind. He still had only one goal... to force her to make love to him. Then, it came to her; the realization that she was alone with him made her panic. He was a strong man! It was possible that he could grab her... force her through sheer weight and superior muscle power... to submit! He could rape her!

Oh, My God! Please! Don't let it happen... to me! I'd just die... if any other man... touched me!

Blindly, she jumped to her feet and plunged into the heavily wooded hillside, downwards toward the meadow, the stream, other people... and safety!

He caught her within ten yards. His arms were around her, holding her tight to him until she ceased struggling futilely, and he kissed her hard with brutal lips, his tongue bursting into her mouth to taste and savor.

When he finally took his mouth away, she said, "P-Please... d-don't make me do it?"

But, in spite of her revulsion and fear, her nipples tingled where they had been pressed against his muscular chest; the hard, bulginess of his loins still pressed into her, as he held her close, and she could feel the throbbing heat of it through his pants. His kiss had been long and sensuous, its warmth spreading in her nerve ends, singing a sybaritic hymn of voluptuous promise. She relaxed and leaned her head against his chest.

"It's only on the basis I suggested... none other!" he said.

"... A-And you'll give m-me the pills... for Jim?"

"Of course! I always keep my word!"

"No one will ever know about it... you won't tell... ?"

"Nobody will know..." Buzz told her. "But you... and me!"

"Why d-did you tell me... about Gayle... ?" she probed.

"I was just needling you..."

"What about Andy and Jim... Is that true?"

"Every word of it!" he asserted.

She turned in his arms to face up the hill... back up to the ridge, closer to the sky and God... where she would exchange her chastity for pain pills for Jim, her husband... her husband, who for whatever reason, had bargained that same chastity away... even before they had begun their vacation trip!

"L-Let's go back... up there!" she said, with finality.

The pilot put his arm around her waist and helped her up the steep slope. They regained the ridge, quickly, and Joan went directly to the spread blanket and sat down upon it, gasping for breath.

"Oh... it's soft!" she observed.

"I put pine needles under it," Buzz said.

"Always prepared... like a good Boy Scout... ?"

"I think positive!"

"You're impossible... and too cocky!"

"I get results!" he countered.

Kneeling down on the blanket beside her, he reached for the top button of her blouse and dexterously unbuttoned it. Involuntarily, she shrank back away from him with a catch in her throat.