Chapter Fourteen
At dawn’s light, Colin made his way back to the homestead. He’d fallen asleep near the trickling stream, alongside the herd, the presence of the cattle somehow comforting. As he passed the horse pen, he saw Patrick’s mount was missing. His gut clenched, and the reality that he would likely never see Patrick again twisted around him like a straitjacket.
As he approached, Emily appeared outside her cabin. Her hair was only half-braided, and she wore the same trousers and shirt as the night before, along with the same miserable, guilty expression.
“He’s gone.” It wasn’t a question, as Colin knew it in his heart already.
“I gave him his horse and as much money as I could. I’ll do the same for you if you want to go after him. Whatever you decide. Whatever you want.” She raised her hands and then dropped them to her sides, defeated. “Oh, Colin. Can you ever forgive me? Patrick’s gone and it’s my fault.” Her eyes swam with tears.
“It was only a matter of time, I think. I was fooling myself. It’s for the best.” Colin repeated Patrick’s words but found he didn’t believe them any more than the night before.
“You deserve much more than this.”
“He didn’t even say a proper good-bye. But I suppose there was nothing left to say.” He felt hollow.
A door opened, and Colin glanced over to see Robbie leaving their cabin. Robbie made no greeting and headed over directly to the horses. Colin turned back to Emily, who was again fighting tears. “What’s Robbie’s reaction to all of this?”
“He asked me to marry him.”
“Pardon?” Colin wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. Through his misery, he felt a ray of genuine delight. “That’s wonderful!”
Emily spoke heavily. “I said no, of course.”
“Why? Why deny yourself happiness?”
“He deserves better than me, Colin.”
“I doubt he agrees. Nor do I.”
“Well, he’s leaving. As soon as I can arrange for some more men.” She smiled sadly. “As you said. It’s for the best.”
Tallara called to them, and although they couldn’t understand the words, they knew it meant breakfast was ready. Colin trudged to his cabin to change his clothes and sat on his bed wearily. The reality that Patrick was gone was still like a dream—a nightmare. That they’d never even kissed good-bye amid their anger and recriminations was something he knew he’d regret for the rest of his life.
With a punch of frustration, Colin hit his thin pillow, sending it sailing. Something fell to the wooden floor with a dull thunk. Puzzled, Colin leaned over to scan the uneven boards. His chest constricted painfully as he caught sight of the ring.
On his knees, Colin picked up the plain band of metal. As he held it between his fingers, he imagined its warmth was still from Patrick’s skin. He shoved himself to his feet and stormed out, breaking into a run out past the lazy herd.
He ran until he reached a rocky hilltop overlooking a dry creek and thorny bushes. Squeezing the ring in his palm, fingers clenched, Colin pulled his arm back. He wanted to throw the ring with all his might, toss it unseeing, where it could be swallowed by the earth.
Chest heaving, Colin ordered himself to release his arm and let the piece of metal fly. Yet he couldn’t. Perhaps one day he’d have the strength, but for now he needed something to hold on to. That Patrick had left the ring at all showed he cared, even if not enough to stay.
With a deep breath, Colin slipped the band over his ring finger, but it was too large. He tried his first finger, where it fit snugly, a constant reminder.
The days unfolded just as the others had before, with much work to be done. The herd needed more room to roam and graze, especially since the grass was thin on the ground in the punishing heat of summer. Colin threw himself into his duties and fell into bed at night, exhausted. Yet no amount of fatigue could keep him from feeling the void of Patrick’s absence, or stop his eyes from drifting over to Patrick’s empty bed. He felt carved out and couldn’t imagine ever being whole again.
Colin, Emily, and Robbie carried on gloomily. Although Colin attempted to talk some sense into her, Emily seemed set on denying herself a second chance at love. Robbie watched her longingly from a distance and had taken to eating his meals alone outside. Colin hated seeing his friend so miserable as well.
The sun was relentless, and Colin felt the summer would never end. One typically bright morning when he rose, he found Emily sipping her coffee in the shade by her cabin, leaning against the wall. Her late husband’s clothing hung off her small frame as usual.
“Good morning, Emily.”
“Good morning.”
Colin leaned next to her. “You need some work clothes of your own.”
She smiled ruefully. “Yes, I suppose I do. Robbie and I are going to Drayton next week. I should be able to buy everything we need there. Give me a list of what you’d like.”
He didn’t want to ask his next question, but there was no sense in pretending it wasn’t happening. Patrick was gone already, and Robbie would soon follow. “And will you be looking for more men?”
“Yes. Robbie won’t be returning with me.” Emily’s gaze remained fixed on her mug.
“What if there’s no one suitable?”
“There will be. There has to be.”
“Robbie’s such a hard worker. He’ll be difficult to replace.” He was so much more that Colin left unsaid.
“Yes. He and Patrick…” She sighed. “They’ll be missed. But we’ll get by.”
“Yes. I suppose we will.” He hoped it was true, but Colin was afraid the void left by their absence would never be filled. Not in the way that counted.
“Do you know what day it is today?”
Colin pondered it for a moment and found he had no idea. He shook his head.
“December twenty-fifth.”
“Truly?” Colin was taken quite by surprise. He gazed up at the sun and endless blue sky, spreading over the red earth and dry trees and shrubs. “My family will be dining on roast and potatoes and figgy pudding.”
“Mine as well. It’s another lifetime now.”
“Well, merry Christmas, Emily.”
“To you as well, Colin. I’m sorry we don’t have any gifts to exchange.”
“Next year. We’ll have a proper Christmas. Well, as proper as it can get out here.”
She smiled genuinely. “I’d like that very much.” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to Colin’s cheek.
Robbie approached, and Emily’s countenance grew somber. Colin spoke quietly. “Are you sure you can’t reconsider? He’s a good man, Emily. To the devil with what anyone else might think.”
Tears moistened her eyes. “But Stephen…”
“Is gone. You’re still here. Just think about it. It’s not too late. Talk to him. Give him a chance.”
She hurriedly disappeared into her cabin. Colin smiled as Robbie neared. “Happy Christmas.”
A morose expression darkening his features, Robbie couldn’t pretend to smile. “If you say so. Come on; there’s work to be done.”
Colin followed, and as he saddled up Mission, his thoughts went to Patrick. Had Patrick gone to Drayton? Or was he even farther afield now? Did he know it was Christmas Day? Did he miss his family? Miss home? Colin?
With a frustrated sigh, Colin yanked on his hat and mounted his horse, telling himself to stop asking questions he’d never be able to answer.
His mount was hard flesh between his thighs, thundering across the field, hooves echoing Colin’s heartbeat as he flew over grassy dales, splashing through rivers and past church spires. Spring flowers scented the moist air.
Will rode ahead, his shouts of laughter and exultation ringing in the air as Colin followed breathlessly. He’d left his parents behind, their stern faces of disappointment trampled and discarded as Colin raced ever forward.
His stallion soared over a low rock wall and landed in a spray of red dirt. Colin searched for Will’s familiar form ahead, but he’d vanished. Rocky formations jutted up from the dry earth under a brutal sun, and gnarled trees replaced the verdant forests. Strong arms encircled Colin from behind, and he inhaled Patrick’s familiar scent with a rush of affection and relief.
Patrick nuzzled Colin’s neck, his stubble scratching, igniting flames of desire that skittered across Colin’s skin. “All mine.” Patrick’s deep voice went straight to Colin’s cock, which throbbed against the front of his trousers.
The horse had become some kind of winged creature, sailing above the land as Patrick lit Colin’s body on fire, hands and lips everywhere, tongue clever and seeking. They returned to England and the lush pasture where Patrick had once trained the horses while Colin watched from his window.
Colin straddled Patrick, pushing him back on the grass, their mouths meeting in an endless kiss. Their clothes evaporated, and it was all skin and heat as they strained together in the shadow of the Lancaster home. Rising up on his knees, Colin sank down slowly, taking Patrick’s cock inside him inch by inch.
Spreading open impossibly wide, Colin burned with desire as flares of pure pleasure licked out over his body. Patrick filled him completely, and when Colin would have floated away on the bliss, Patrick’s powerful hands held him fast.
He knew he should cover himself, that he and Patrick shouldn’t be coupling in broad daylight in view of anyone who should glance out a window. Yet he didn’t care a whit. Colin felt nothing but glorious freedom as he rode Patrick’s thick cock, his thighs and buttocks clenching as he tightened every muscle.
Patrick chanted his name, lips parted, eyes dark with lust as they mated together. Sweat slicked their skin, and Colin panted as he began fisting his cock, ready for release, to shoot his seed on Patrick’s chest and face, to mark him as surely as Patrick did Colin when he came inside him, filling Colin with his warmth—
Cold steel nudged Colin’s cheek.
His eyes popped open, the vestiges of sleep and the dream evaporating in a rush of fright. In the darkness, Colin could make out the figure of a man standing over him, the tip of a rifle pressing into Colin’s flesh.
“Up.”
Dazed, Colin complied, hoping desperately that the dream had become a nightmare and that he’d wake momentarily. His gaze flicked about the cabin, but there was no sign of Robbie, only another shadowy figure who cackled. “Guess we’ll let ya put on some trousers. Awfully sorry to interrupt. Looks as if it was a most agreeable dream.”
Colin was shirtless and wore only his thin cotton undergarment, which did little to hide his quickly softening erection. As the gunman chortled, Colin quickly stepped into the closest pair of trousers at hand. He reached for a shirt, but the gunman waved his rifle menacingly. “That’ll do. Outside.”
His feet bare, Colin left the cabin, heart pounding as his brain attempted to process what was happening. His heart sank when he saw Emily, Robbie, Cobar, and Tallara on their knees in the dirt. Three more men with guns loomed over them. As Colin neared, he made out blood dripping down Robbie’s face, which was swelling rapidly. Robbie wore only his trousers, and Emily was clad in her long white nightdress. Cobar wore only trousers, and Tallara’s dress was back to front.
With a hard shove, Colin ended up on his knees a moment later. His mind spun with thoughts of what the men wanted with them. Surely if robbery was the goal, they’d have at least attempted to disguise their identities. Colin couldn’t get a clear look at all of the men’s faces, but he recognized one from the day Matthew Barnes had ridden out to meet them.
So if these were Barnes’s minions, not taking care to conceal their identities, it didn’t bode well at all. Dread and terrible fear twisted Colin’s gut. One of the men sidled up behind Emily, reaching down to fondle her loose hair. Robbie growled and sprang to his feet. “Don’t you touch her!”
The gunman who had roused Colin slammed the butt of his rifle into Robbie’s stomach, doubling him over in gasping pain. Emily cried out. “No! Please, don’t hurt anyone. You can take whatever you want. I’ll give you all my money.”
One of them, a man with a bushy mustache and a jagged scar on his cheek, laughed uproariously. “You bet we’ll take what we want, love. This is no place for a woman.”
Emily kept her head high. “And who are you?”
His smirk sent a shiver down Colin’s spine. “I’m Quinn. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Grant. Happy Christmas to you all. Should have taken the boss’s generous offer to buy you out. Would have let you go on your pretty little way, none the worse for wear. We thought you’d have given up by now. We were right charitable about it too. Gave you plenty of time to leave by your own volition.”
“Terribly sorry to disappoint you.” Emily managed to keep her voice steady.
Quinn bared his teeth in a sickening shadow of a smile. “Came to check up on you a few weeks back, and it was clear you weren’t going anywhere. Shame you had to be so stubborn. Gave us no choice.”
Colin’s heart thumped painfully, and panic clawed his skin. No, no, no! He thought immediately of Patrick, of the life they’d never share. Memories tumbled through his mind, long-lost visions of his youth, of Patrick the first day Colin had spotted him from his window seat.
Quinn, clearly the leader, continued. “Now there’s someone missing from your little group. Where’s the Irishman? Didn’t see him through our spyglass when we came for our visit. He gone? And don’t lie to me. You will regret it. Deeply.”
Colin’s voice sounded thin and hoarse. “Gone. Weeks now.”
Quinn zeroed in on Colin. “Is that so? Couldn’t keep him around? Your sweet little arse not enough for him?” He laughed heartily, along with the other men.
Colin kept his head high. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The gunman who had roused him from bed chortled. “Want us to draw a picture? We saw you taking it from him by the river that day your boss lady came for lunch. Gave it to you good, he did.”
His face burning, Colin stayed silent. He was furious that an intimate moment between him and Patrick had indeed been spied upon, particularly by these degenerate brutes. It sullied what he and Patrick had shared. He burned with resentment.
Quinn’s tone was quietly menacing. “You’re sure the Irishman is gone? Last chance to be truthful.”
Emily spoke up. “Yes. He’s gone. I promise you that.”
Quinn seemed satisfied. “All right, then. They won’t find your bodies, of course. Mr. Barnes will alert the authorities eventually, properly concerned that his neighborly visit was greeted by a deserted homestead and a letter in your delicate womanly script, detailing how you couldn’t bear the conditions any longer. The deed will be left to the boss, along with your little herd. Most kind of you.”
Emily squared her jaw. “Go to the devil. I won’t write a thing.”
Quinn’s laugh raised the hair on the back of Colin’s neck. “Oh, no?” He removed a large knife from his belt, the blade singing on the leather. He stalked over to where Robbie knelt, breathing heavily, and wrenched up Robbie’s arm, grasping his hand. With only a faint whoosh of air and before anyone could react, the knife came down, severing Robbie’s first finger on his right hand.
Robbie’s scream pierced the night, and Colin shuddered, stifling his own cry. Robbie clutched his hand, blood streaming through his fingers, and Colin’s stomach heaved as he watched his friend’s anguish. Emily gasped for air, eyes wide in horror.
“That’s one. Nine left. Since this one was in your bed tonight, I figure he’s your favorite boy. So, how much pain do you want to inflict on him? It’s up to you, Mrs. Grant.”
“Stop, stop.” Emily wept bitterly. “Give me the paper.”
Quinn smiled sickeningly. “There. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He nodded to one of the other men, who hauled Emily to her feet and into the cabin.
The only sound Robbie made now were ragged breaths through clenched teeth. Tallara moved toward him and received a punch to the side of her head. Cobar quaked with fury beside Colin but did not move.
Colin was awash in a confusion of emotions. Terror, hopelessness, and a growing rage ricocheted through him as he watched Robbie’s blood soak into the earth. He worried for Emily, now alone in the cabin with two of the animals who’d captured them, and who were certainly capable of any depravity. Unbidden, a vivid recollection of the men who’d attacked him on the ship shook Colin. His gorge rose, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
Fortunately—if anything could be fortunate in such a situation—Emily emerged from the cabin a minute later, seemingly unscathed. Still in her nightdress, she strode ahead of Barnes’ minions, head high, spine rigid. Although the outlook was overwhelmingly grim, Colin was strengthened by the sight of her dignity.
Emily addressed Quinn. “If you’re going to kill us, get on with it.”
Quinn guffawed. “Ain’t going to do it here, my lady. We’re going on a little trip, we are.”
Emily’s gaze lowered to where Robbie huddled on the ground. Sorrow darkened her face. “We have to stop the bleeding. He won’t be able to go anywhere.”
Quinn regarded Robbie as he might a dying, squirming insect he’d trod upon. “True enough. If he can’t walk, he’ll be dragged. Better sort him out.”
“We need bandages.”
Quinn shrugged. “You’ll have to make do.”
Emily took hold of the hem of her nightdress and tore, ripping off long, wide strips of the cotton. Not caring if it earned him a blow, Colin shuffled on his knees to Robbie’s side. He put his arm around Robbie’s back, supporting him as Robbie struggled to stay upright. Emily knelt and gently took Robbie’s gored hand.
Tremors of agony racked Robbie, and Colin fervently wished there was something he could do to take the pain away. Emily’s eyes shone. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Robbie breathed harshly and shook his head briefly. His voice was raw. “Don’t be.”
“I am. Sorry for everything, but especially for saying no. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you, Robbie. Instead I wasted what time we had.”
Tears spilled onto Robbie’s bruised cheeks. “We had tonight, at least. I love you, Emily. Always.”
Emily wept quietly as she wrapped the cotton tightly over the stump of Robbie’s missing finger, blood staining her hands. “I love you too. I was afraid and foolish. So very foolish.” Her gaze met Colin’s. “I’m sorry to you as well. This shouldn’t be your end.”
Colin fought to keep his emotions in check. “Shouldn’t be the end for any of us.”
Once Robbie’s hand was bandaged as best they could manage, Barnes’ men forced them to start walking, the men riding alongside. Judging by the constellations, Colin thought they were heading east, but he couldn’t be sure.
In the darkness, they stumbled over rocks and uneven ground. Colin’s feet were soon cut and battered, and Emily limped in obvious pain. Cobar and Tallara were of course accustomed to walking barefoot, and when Colin glanced back to check on them, they were trudging along silently, hands clasped.
Colin’s throat thickened, and he blinked back a wave of sadness. It was all so unfair. He vacillated between fear and despondency, rage and grief. Emily, Robbie, Cobar, and Tallara were his friends—people who had accepted him when his own family had refused.
Still, at the thought of his family, Colin’s heart constricted. He’d never even had a chance to mail his letters. William would never hear from him again and would never know what befell him. Colin took a moment to pray his cousin would enjoy happiness and a long life. Same for his sister and his parents.
As they were marched ever onward, thoughts of Patrick returned time and time again, no matter how often Colin attempted to banish them. He knew without doubt that he loved Patrick more than anyone he’d ever known. He wondered at the vagaries of fate—or perhaps of God—that brought Patrick into his life so many years before.
Had this all been part of some plan? That his and Patrick’s paths should intertwine and lead them to a new world together, only to have it end like this? Patrick would never know what became of Colin or the others. Would he ever return to the station? And if he did, would it be his doom?
Panic flapped its wings against Colin’s ribcage, sharp as knives, and he struggled to fill his lungs. Questions spilled through his mind as the reality of death came into focus. Would it hurt? Would he know when his last breath faded on the wind? Did only darkness await, or some kind of heaven? Or hell?
His legs stopped as if mired in quicksand, unwilling to lead him any farther. A rifle butt slammed into Colin’s bare upper back, and he pitched forward onto the dirt, pain exploding.
“Keep moving!” a voice shouted from above.
Colin heaved himself up onto his knees. He wanted to do nothing more than collapse against the earth and weep his terror and sorrow.
“I said, move!” This time, a whip cracked the air and tore into Colin’s flesh. He stumbled and tried to find his feet as the leather sliced into him again.
Suddenly Emily’s shriek filled the air. Biting back a cry as he stirred, Colin turned to see Emily kneeling at Robbie’s side. Robbie was utterly still, and Colin’s stomach churned. Amid the shuffling of the horses and shouts from Barnes’ men to get up, Colin gathered his wits and scrambled to where Robbie lay.
Emily shook Robbie’s shoulder, sobbing loudly, gulping for air. Dawn was near, and Colin could see that Robbie’s face, usually kissed by the sun, was alarmingly pale. His breath frozen, Colin pressed two fingertips to Robbie’s throat. A faint pulse was there, and Colin exhaled. Robbie blinked and came round.
“Shoot ’im now,” one of the killers suggested.
“If you were going to simply shoot us, you would have done it already.” Colin’s voice sounded foreign to his own ears. It didn’t waver.
Quinn surveyed them with an emotionless gaze, then spoke to one of the minions. “Sling him over your horse. And get a move on.”
Colin pulled Emily into his arms, soothing her as best he could. As they pressed on, the sun peeked over the horizon. Colin’s previous urge to bemoan their fate faded as the sun rose, casting a pink hue over the nearby shrubbery and jagged rocks in the distance. The rays of light gave Colin a surge of energy and, with it, an increasing fury that Barnes and his lackeys thought they could simply take what wasn’t theirs.
As the flies buzzed to life and the temperature soared rapidly under the brightening sky, Colin breathed deeply, his arm firm around Emily’s shoulders as they soldiered on. He resolved that if he was to die on this day, it would not be without a fight.