RUNAWAY ROSE
Chapter Sixty-Five
They rode for most of the afternoon. As the
sun was beginning to set in the west, they finally stopped in a semi-open space
surrounded by brush and cactus.
Rose slid off the horse gratefully, exhausted
from hours of being jostled along. The man who seemed to be in charge, whom
Rose had heard the others call Guerrero, ordered her captor to take care of the
horses. Another man grabbed her, untying her hands and demanding in Spanish and
a few words of broken English that she make dinner.
Rubbing her hands to restore circulation,
Rose hurried to do as she was told. Her knowledge of Spanish, she had
discovered, was better than she had thought, but at the moment she wished that
she didn’t understand it so well. She could deal with cooking, and even with
being jostled on a horse for hours at a time, but it was what she knew would
come later that she didn’t want to think about.
While they were traveling, she had picked up
enough from the men’s conversations, particularly the comments about her, and
from the looks that they gave her, that she was expected to be the night’s
entertainment. She knew what to expect, of course—she wasn’t an innocent virgin—but
she wasn’t looking forward to it. She tried to reassure herself that she had
been raped before, and she had survived, but it was all she could do to keep
herself from running blindly into the growing darkness, to try to escape into
the desert.
It would be foolhardy in the extreme to try
to escape now, though. If she made one move to escape, they would be on her in
seconds, and it would be that much worse for her. She had no idea what they
planned to do with her after they had made use of her—whether they would kill
her, or free her, or drag her along further. She had already tried to escape
once, suddenly throwing herself from the horse as they passed a sandy wash, but
with her hands tied she had been unable to get up and run, and she had quickly
been recaptured, with several bruises and scrapes all she had to show for her
escape attempt.
My hands are untied now, she thought, considering the possibilities. If she
somehow managed to escape into the brush, she could move quickly and fend for
herself. But she was being closely watched, and her captors were heavily armed.
She didn’t know if this particular group considered themselves Villistas, or
were simply bandits. In times of war, the line between soldier and criminal was
often very fine, and many people crossed that boundary both ways. If they are
Villistas, she thought, they’re the sort who give the movement a bad
name.
As Rose bent over the fire, she thought of,
and discarded, several different escape plans. She could attack with a burning
stick, but the chances of that working were very slim. Minor burns were
unlikely to stop any one of them for long, and only one of her captors appeared
filthy enough to catch fire easily. Furthermore, it would be easy for them to
turn the flames on her.
She could attack with the knife she had been
given to slice bacon, but it was dull, and it would take a great deal of effort
to do any significant damage to any one of them. By the time she had killed one
person with the knife, the others would have dragged her away several times
over, unless she got the individual in a vulnerable spot, such as the throat.
And even then, the chances of her escaping would be very slim.
As she prepared the food, another idea
occurred to her. The men seemed to be quite interested in her body, and she had
learned enough feminine wiles to know that she could use that to her advantage.
They couldn’t rape her without a fight, but she doubted that she could win
against all four of them. Against one man, maybe, but not against four.
However, if she pretended to like them, to want them, she might get through it
without injury, and, she thought, it might just make them trust her a little
bit more—maybe enough that her hands wouldn’t be tied, and she could escape
while they slept. She thought that at least one would be on guard, but it would
be easier to overcome one man than all four of them.
And if it doesn’t work? a little voice inside her head nagged her. She pushed
the thought aside. If it didn’t work, at least she would maintain a modicum of
control, and reduce the risk of being injured. She could only hope that she
wouldn’t become pregnant or catch a disease from one of them. Pregnancy, she
knew, was unlikely, as it was her time of month, but disease was still a
distinct possibility if one of them was infected. She half-hoped that her
menstrual blood would put them off, but she didn’t count on it. This didn’t
seem to be an overly fastidious group.
Steeling herself, Rose gave what she hoped
was a seductive look to the men as she dished up their food and handed them the
plates. Two of them looked confused—she had been trying to escape earlier—one
grinned lewdly at her, and the leader, Guerrero, looked at her suspiciously.
Her stomach growled, and she looked longingly
at the food that was left, wondering if she would get into further trouble if
she ate it. The man who had given her the lewd smile gestured to her to eat,
making a remark that made the others laugh maliciously. Quickly, before he
could change his mind, Rose wolfed down the food that was left, suspecting that
she would need her strength.
Guerrero glowered at her, his eyes still
suspicious. He didn’t trust her seductive looks, or the way she moved as she
cleaned the dishes, trying to be as enticing as possible. She was determined to
make her plan work.
As Rose finished cleaning up, she hoped that
the men would find something else to entertain themselves for a while. In spite
of her efforts to be seductive and in control, she wasn’t looking forward to
what was going to happen. Her heart sank, though, when she realized that three
of the men were arguing over her, arguing over who would get her first. She
didn’t understand all of their words, but their gestures and the looks they
gave her made their intent obvious.
Only Guerrero stood back, watching her to
make sure she didn’t try to sneak away. He was the only one who hadn’t made
lewd remarks about her that afternoon, she realized, and suspected that the
only reason he had allowed her to be taken along instead of being killed was
that the men who followed him wanted entertainment, and it was easier to keep
control of them when they were content. None of the three arguing over her
seemed particularly intelligent, something that Rose thought she might be able
to use to her advantage, but Guerrero was no fool. He knew how to keep his
group of associates happy, and he wasn’t deceived by her ruse. He was the one
she would have to watch out for.
The three men who had been arguing over her
finally decided who would get her first, and that man, the one who had ridden
with her all afternoon, walked toward her. Taking a deep breath, Rose moved in
his direction, forcing her hips to sway seductively as she did so. He leered at
her and took her by the arm, leading her toward his bedroll.