This wasn’t the first hopeless situation she’d pushed through, not after the downfall of her family. Losing her mother when she was only seven. Having to practically raise little Henry and keep house for Pa and Will. Of course, Will wasn’t any trouble. If anything, her older brother had been the one light in all those dark days. Without his teasing, the times he’d stolen her away from the heavy weight of responsibility to go exploring, she may not have survived those days.
The knife of grief pierced sharply, straight in through her ribs. Will. Never again would she see his lopsided grin. Henry’s passing had been hard, and Pa’s a shameful waste, but the grieving would have been much harder if she hadn’t still been numb over losing Will. The long-familiar burn crept up her throat, threatening her eyes. Threatening her control.
She clenched her teeth and forced herself from the memories. This was to be her new life. Her fresh start. And if it took her dying breath to accomplish it, she’d get Samuel away from these beasts.
The first step required escaping from camp without waking her captors. Listening once more for the breathing of all three men, she checked off each in her mind. The light snore came from the man named Aaron, who’d shared a saddle with her. Rex, the man whose lecherous glances made her want to cover herself, snored like a drunk. But Bill, the one who was liberal with his fists, barely made a sound at all.
She honed in on the light breaths that had to be coming from Bill, breathing so steady, he must be sleeping. And the volume hadn’t grown or lessened in the hours she’d been listening.
Easing herself upright, she tucked her still-damp skirt into her waistband. Not decent by any stretch, but she’d have to do some crawling to free Samuel, and this was better than letting the fabric slow her down.
Aaron slept nearest her, and she knew from experience he wore his knife at his side, whether waking or sleeping. The bruise on the inside of her elbow could well attest to hitting the bone hilt too many times as she was forced to lean backward going down mountain slopes.
Every contact with the man required her to lock her jaw to keep from squirming, but soon she wouldn’t have to worry about him again. Or any of them.
Creeping toward Aaron, one tiny breath at a time, she shifted her focus between the man’s face hardened in sleep and the knife stored at his waist. He was a big man, with broad shoulders and a chiseled profile. Thankfully, he wasn’t as large as the oaf, Bill.
But as she stole toward Aaron now, her gaze lingered on those large hands. And thick muscular arms. One hard blow from him could knock her out. God, don’t let me wake him. Please don’t let me wake him.
When she was just close enough to reach the knife, she extended her hand and closed two fingers around the hilt. The handle was cold, and the blade would likely be even colder. She’d seen that blade flash in the sunlight, then glimmer in the firelight as he wiped it clean after a meal. That very night, he’d even sharpened the metal to a wicked point.
Perfect timing if her plan succeeded. A deadly coincidence if she failed.
She withdrew the blade one fingertip at a time and didn’t breathe until the knife was fully extracted. The man’s low snores never changed. Good work, Hannon.
Now for some food. She had to be prepared for her and Samuel to travel through the mountain wilderness for several days. She’d never hunted with only a knife, and she wasn’t sure she could keep them both alive without bringing along something to eat.
Unfortunately, tonight’s evening fare had been stew, the remnants of which still sat in the pot by the barely glowing embers. Not something she could easily carry. But she’d seen the pack where they kept their food supplies. It was near Rex, so hopefully his snoring would cover any sound the rustle of the bag made.
She crawled toward the man, forcing herself to take as much time as she needed to keep quiet. When she’d closed half the distance to him, his snoring ceased.
Her heart ceased its beating, too.
Then, with a snort, the sound started up again, with just as much gusto as before. She waited a full minute to make sure the rhythm stayed even, in case he was faking.
He was definitely asleep.
She started forward again. When she reached the pack, a decision faced her. She could either pull out the smaller satchel that contained food supplies, which would risk waking the men with the sounds of the bags brushing. Or she could take the entire outer pack, which would make it harder to crawl back to Samuel and sneak away from the camp.
Better to chance removing the smaller satchel under cover of Rex’s snores.
She reached into the pack and only had to fumble for a moment before her hand closed around the smaller leather bag that she’d seen the men handle. It was heavier than she expected. She opened the larger bag wider to extract the food satchel.
So far, so good.
Turning back toward Samuel, she attempted to crawl his way. But that was impossible to do silently while holding both the sack and the knife. She’d have to walk. And maybe that would be quieter anyway.
As she pushed up to her feet, she stepped on a piece of her skirt that had come untucked from her waistband. Throwing her free hand out for balance, she barely kept herself upright. She inhaled a deep breath to steady herself, then released it in a slow stream.
Now to cut Samuel loose, then get him out of here. Should she wake him so he could walk? Or try to carry him quietly?
He was such a big boy for his five years; she’d probably do best with the former option. Besides, the last thing she needed was for him to wake in her arms and start asking questions aloud. The child did love to talk and had no concept of a whisper.
She focused on watching every place she stepped to keep from crackling a branch or leaf or kicking a stone. How horrible it would be to wake one of the men now, when she’d almost achieved her—
A blow slammed into her temple. The force knocked her sideways, sending her to the ground as light exploded in her head.
She clutched at her skull, trying to hold in a scream as a boot struck hard in her side. Pain blasted through her body, and she curled her legs up, trying to shield herself from another hit.
Voices sounded above her, but with the pain radiating through her head, she could barely make sense of them.
Samuel. Where was the boy? She had to protect him from the brutal attack that could potentially strike him next.
She forced her eyes open. Dirt and rocks skittered against her legs from the activity around her. She had to know what was going on. Had to get to the boy.
The way she was curled, seeing anything required lifting her head. The movement launched a fresh wave of light flashes behind her eyes, and she pressed her lids shut until they stilled.
By now, rough voices were penetrating the fog of pain. First Aaron, then Rex.
“Hands off, Carlton. We’ll restrain her, but there’s nothing to be done to her or the boy until we get home. No force. No hands. Nothing.” Aaron spat the last word as though he couldn’t stand the man he spoke to.
A few mumbled curses filled the air, and it took her a moment to find the source. The man she’d thought was named Bill lay on his back, glaring at Aaron, who stood over them.
She slid her glance to Samuel, who lay by the tree where he was still tied, the whites of his eyes wide even in the darkness. Did she dare scoot over to him to ease his fears? Her side felt like a fire licked it with every breath she took. Had she broken a rib? Maybe more than one. If something happened to her, who would look after Samuel? She clenched her teeth, then crawled to the boy.