Riding the Timberline Read online

  Callender’s voice rose in anger. ‘Hold your damn tongue, girl, else I’ll teach you some manners.’

  ‘If there are manners to learned, Mr. Callender, look closer to home,’ Cassie snapped defiantly.

  Callender slapped her hard enough to make her step back.

  Her father leaned forward and struck Callender, his fist slamming against the man’s jaw. Blood swelled from a cut lip. Callender dropped his left hand to the big Colt .45 revolver belted around his waist, fingers curling around the butt.

  ‘I’d suggest that might be a foolish thing to do,’ someone said directly behind Callender. The words were accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a gun hammer clicking back, the muzzle being pressed against Callender’s spine.

  The gun belonged to Jimmy McKay, Marchant’s hand. McKay had been on the boardwalk outside the hotel when he heard the raised voices.

  ‘Take his gun, Jimmy,’ Marchant said. ‘Empty the chamber and then give it back.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Callender snaked out his tongue to lick the blood from his lip. ‘This doesn’t end here. No man reneges on a fair wager with Mordecai Callender. That girl belongs me now. I’ll have her come hell or high water.’

  ‘After your performance today, Mr. Callender, I’d have to be dead before I allowed you to come near me,’ Cassie said.

  ‘Missy, when you get to your new home it’s looking fair I’ll be needing to break you in. No woman talks back to me.’

  Cassie couldn’t hold back a smile. ‘Well, Mr. Callender, the revelations just keep coming. Not only a bully, but a throwback to the dark ages. Dad, get me out of here before I forget I’m a lady.’

  McKay jabbed Callender in the ribs. ‘Time for you to go Callender. You said your piece. Now leave.’

  McKay slid Callender’s empty revolver back in his holster. He dropped the six cartridges into the pocket of the man’s loose coat. He skirted around Callender, still holding his own Colt. Callender looked down at the gun, then back up at McKay. The gleam in his eyes was murderous.

  ‘You held a gun on me, son. I won’t forget that in a hurry.’

  McKay nodded. ‘Now that fact is going to cause me to lose sleep. I won’t forget that.’

  Callender turned and strode out of the hotel, his heavy boots thudding on the lobby floor.

  ‘Let’s go home,’ Marchant said, taking Cassie’s arm.

  McKay went in front, ever watchful. The six man crew Marchant had brought along were sitting their horses outside the hotel. One of them held the reins of the three mounts still waiting for their riders.

  Pausing on the boardwalk Marchant held Cassie back. She turned to stare up at him as he fiddled with the brim of his hat. He was embarrassed by the incident, and what had caused it.

  ‘Cass, I’m...’

  ‘Please, let’s just forget it, dad. It’s not your fault that man decided to turn a silly game into something more serious.’ She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. ‘Remind me how much that wager stood at.’

  ‘Ten thousand dollars.’

  ‘Well at least you didn’t sell me for a cheap hand. I’m flattered by what you think I’m worth.’

  ‘Hell, a damn sight more than ten thousand dollars, Cassie. A whole lot more.’

  Cassie stepped off the boardwalk, reaching for the offered reins of her horse. Over her shoulder she said, ‘I should hope so to.’

  They all rode from town, the riders bunched around Cassie in a protective shield.

  Passing a saloon at the far end of the street Cassie became aware of Mordecai Callender watching her. He was on the boardwalk, his own men standing in a bunch behind him, with hungry looks on their unfriendly face. Despite the warmth of the day Cassie felt a shiver run through her. There was something about the Callender gathering that unsettled her. A darkness that denied itself even the pleasure of the warm, sun bright day.

  Then they were out of town, heading along the trail that would take them back home.

  The word had never held such meaning for Cassie. Home meant security. Safety. Far away from the likes of Mordecai Callender. Even so she couldn’t fully ride herself of the glowering image of the man. She hoped she was wrong, but a small, nagging voice inside kept telling her she had not seen the last of him.

  ‘A day along the trail Callender’s crew jumped us,’ Cassie said. ‘We were nooning. Letting the horse rest and having a meal. They came out of nowhere it seemed like. They were like a bunch of savages. Screaming and shooting. They scattered our horses. Shot two of the crew dead as they stood up to face them. The rest of the crew would have fought back but dad ordered them to surrender. He knew we were outgunned. Callender’s men disarmed the crew.’

  Her voice faltered the and she couldn’t speak for a while.

  ‘Don’t do this to yourself, Cassie,’ Tyrell said.

  She shook her head. ‘I need to tell someone. You’re the first I’ve spoken to since Callender took me away.’ She raised her head and looked Tyrell in the eye. ‘Two of Callender’s men held dad while others took turns to beat him. When he couldn’t stand on his own they held him upright. Callender himself took part in it. Then they just let dad fall in the dirt. I was so angry it took two of Callender’s men to hold me. They thought the whole thing was funny. And then Callender turned around, took out his gun and shot poor Jimmy McKay. He put three, maybe four shots into him. I broke free then. Went for Callender. I managed to hit him once before he struck me. He still had his gun in his hand and I was knocked unconscious. When I finally came to I was tied over my own saddle and we were heading into the hills. I didn’t know where I was, or how far we’d come. And I still have no idea if my dad and Jimmy McKay are alive or dead.’

  They had ridden for three days, moving higher into the looming high country. For Cassie it was two days of discomfort. She had learned to stay silent, aware that Callender would use any excuse to mistreat her even more than he already had. The only time she was freed from the back of the horse was for food and sleep. Even then he still had her feet bound and she was watched all the time. When she needed to relieve herself one of Callender’s men accompanied her, watching, and she was forced to endure the indignity each time. She made no complaint. Said nothing, and to her own satisfaction this act appeared to annoy her captors. They were itching for her to let fly at them, giving them the excuse to teach her another lesson.

  When they reached the isolated valley she was soon to learn was named Callender’s Kingdom, Cassie had little chance to observe her surroundings. From her position draped over her saddle she was only able to pick out glimpses of the place.

  Rough timber shacks spread haphazardly around the settlement. Smoke rising from chimney stacks. Pole corrals holding an assortment of horses. She caught a glimpse of water sparkling in the sunlight. Twisting her head she realized the water was a stream that appeared to run right through the place.

  And there were people. Men dressed in rough clothing like Callender. Women too. They all seemed to be dressed the same, in shapeless sack dresses. And they were all barefoot. Some children too, who stood and stared at her with large, listless eyes.

  The horses came to a halt. Men dismounted. Someone moved up behind Cassie and she felt the ropes binding her being cut. Then a hand grabbed her legs and she was pushed off the horse. She threw out her hands to brace herself as she fell, slamming to the ground, the breath driven from her body. Cassie lay, stunned, trying to suck air back into her lungs. Big hand caught hold of her and she was hauled to her feet. She recognized Mordecai Callender’s unshaven face.

  ‘Here, girl, look at your new home.’ He swept a hand in a grand gesture. ‘This is where you live now. Take a good look. Only place you’ll ever see.’

  Cassie struggled against the hand knotted in her shirt. Callender was holding her bodily upright.

  ‘Settle down, girl, ain’t no use struggling. Conserve your strength. You’ll need it for your work.’

  ‘No,’ Cassie protested. She fought against
his grip. ‘Never.’

  He let go of her. Spun her round to face him. ‘Don’t ever talk back to me.’

  ‘Why? Does it make you look weak in front of your friends.’

  Callender exploded with rage. He backhanded Cassie, spinning her across the hard packed earth. She stumbled. The side of her face pulsed with pain from the slap, but she refused to back down.

  ‘Mordecai Callender, the big man. But only when he can hit a woman.’

  Cassie knew even as she spoke she was making things hard for herself. She didn’t care right then. She was tired of being treated worse than a dog. Of being manhandled.

  ‘Hell, Mordecai, you was right when you aid she needs to be broke,’ one of the riders said. Cassie had heard him being addressed as Shelby. A skinny, long legged individual who smelled worse than the horse he rode. He scratched at the fuzzy beard he wore. ‘Give me a chance an’ I’ll ride her from hell to breakfast.’

  ‘Not ’til I say so.’ He turned to Cassie. ‘Time you learned your place, missy.’ He thrust a finger at her. ‘No woman here wears fancy garments like that so you get rid of them here and now. Every damn stitch and drop them on that fire there.’

  He indicated a burning fire pit nearby.

  Shelby gave a cackling laugh. ‘I don’t think she understands. How about me and a couple of the boys sort of lend her a hand.’

  Callender watched Cassie’s expression change. ‘She understands, don’t you, girl. Choice is yours. Do it yourself, else I let Shelby loose on you.’

  Cassie felt every eye on her. She stood alone, in the center of the area, and despite the feeling of embarrassment sweeping over her, she knew she had no choice. She removed her riding boots and socks. She unbuttoned her shirt, fingers trembling and slipped it off. A deep breath before she loosened her skirt and let it fall. And then, finally, her undergarments. Naked, she stood facing Mordecai Callender, her eyes fixed on him as they had been since she had started disrobing. She refused to look away. Crouching she bundled her clothing and walked to the fire, throwing the garments and boots into the flames, then turned back to face her oppressor.

  Shelby stared at her, his face flushed and gleaming with sweat. His state of arousal was plain to see and his tongue flicked out across his pale lips.

  ‘Damn you, Mordecai, why is it you get the choice every time?’

  Callender allowed himself a low chuckle. ‘Spoils go to the top man.’

  ‘Is this the best you can do?’ Cassie asked. ‘Stare like drooling dogs over a bone.’ She was angry now. Good and angry and in no mood to be put upon by Callender and his hapless yokels.

  Shelby cackled. ‘She ain’t far wrong about the bone part.’

  For once Callender ignored her defiance. ‘Sarah, fetch her a dress. Let’s show Miss Marchant we ain’t all ignorant hill folk.’

  He crossed to stand in front of Cassie, making no effort to conceal the pleasure he was getting from examining her naked body.

  ‘Take a good look,’ Cassie said. ‘It isn’t going to get any better than this.’

  Callender made an appreciative sound deep in his throat. ‘Oh, we’ll see about that, girl. Don’t you fret now. I understand your needs. Once you’ve had a real man I believe you’ll change your mind.’

  Cassie smiled. ‘How long do I have to wait?’

  He frowned. ‘Wait?’

  ‘Yes. For you to send for a real man. I know I haven’t been here very long, but I haven’t seen one yet.’

  ‘Girl, your education is going to give me great pleasure. Something you should realize here and now. This is my valley. My laws. My say so. I get what I want by just raising my hand. You remember that. This is your world now, girl. I own you like I own every piece of livestock here. Good or bad depends on how you behave.’

  ‘Don’t concern yourself I’ll make the right choice.’

  Callender turned to Shelby. ‘Hand me that pig sticker of yours,’ he said.

  When Shelby’s knife was in his hand Callender walked behind Cassie. She felt him take a handful of her thick hair. Moments later he was hacking at it, removing the long tresses. Cassie held herself still, enduring the humiliation. Callender didn’t stop until he had cut Cassie’s hair down almost to the scalp.

  ‘Not so proud and haughty now, missy.’

  Cassie bit her tongue, telling herself the hair would grow back.

  Callender glanced around as the woman called Sarah came up. She handed him a folded garment, turning away without a word. Callender shook out a dress, the same shape and color every female around was wearing. Before she touched it Cassie could see the coarseness of the material. Callender noticed her apprehension.

  ‘It’s all that’s on offer,’ he said. ‘You can wear it or go around like you are. Like I said, good or bad. Your choice.’

  Cassie took the dress and slid it over her head. As it settled over her body she felt the rough material chafing her skin. The dress had no sleeves and reached barely over her knees.

  Shelby wandered over, grinning widely. ‘Hell, Mordecai, I liked her before.’

  ‘I hope you have a good memory, Shelby,’ Cassie said, ‘because you’ll never see me like that again.’

  The conviction in her voice made Shelby pause. Just before he took a step toward her.

  ‘Leave her,’ Callender said. ‘She has no say in what happens to her.’ He looked across at Cassie. ‘Get over there to Sarah. She’ll give you chores to do. Unless a beating’s what you’d prefer.’

  Cassie understood her position at that moment. She turned and walked over to where the woman called Sarah was standing.

  ‘Don’t talk back to him, girl. He’ll do what he threatens. Mordecai Callender won’t abide anyone who challenges him.’

  Sarah was about Cassie’s height. Lean and wiry, her dark hair fell partway down her back. She might have once been pretty but the dark shadows under her sad eyes and the pallor of her lined face took away any natural beauty. Cassie noticed her hands. Work roughed, her nails grubby and broken. Up close she could see the bruises on her arms and when Sarah realized she was being scrutinized she tried to conceal the marks with her hands.

  ‘I was like you when they brought me here. Life in this place tends to wear away at a body.’

  They were walking in the direction of one of the huts; this one long and with smoke issuing from a pair of chimney stacks. Cassie could smell food. It made her realize how hungry she was.

  ‘You’ll work with me in there,’ Sarah said. ‘The men need feeding so there’s always plenty to do. What do they call you?’

  ‘Cassie. Cassie Marchant.’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘No last names here. Callender won’t allow it. You see now you belong to him. Your old life has gone.’

  ‘We’ll see about that.’

  ‘We all feel that way at first but he beats it out of you,’ Sarah hesitated. ‘And once he’s...he’s had you... it never matters. Then you’re really his possession and Mordecai Callender never gives up what’s his.’

  Cassie allowed the cold statement wash over her, pushing back the sickness that grew and felt a hard determination to take its place.

  ‘And we’ll see about that too,’ she said.

  ‘For the first few days they left me alone. As long as I did what they told me I wasn’t troubled. Sarah told me this way was how they treated every newcomer. I used the time to look the place over. There were around a dozen women. Maybe twenty youngsters. Sarah told me they had all been fathered by Callender’s men. It was one of the ways they kept the women from trying to escape. Saran had two children herself. One son by Callender and her daughter by one of the other men.’

  Cassie shook her head as she recalled the settlement and for a few moments she found it hard to go on.

  ‘Leave it if you need,’ Tyrell said. ‘No call for you to distress yourself.’

  ‘That place was a prison,’ Cassie said. ‘Oh, there were no bars, but it was a prison. The women were there as breeding stock for Callender
and his men. They were forced to submit whenever one of those animals wanted them. The rest of the time they cooked and cleaned and tended the fields. Callender and his bunch went away from time to time, it seems. They took cattle. They stole. They rode roughshod over anyone who got in their way. No one could do anything because there’s no real law out there. That high country is easily defendable and Callender’s private domain is hard to find.’

  She held out her mug and asked for more coffee. After Tyrell filled her mug she took a drink and told him more.

  ‘The women slept in a single cabin on wooden bunks. Those, that is, who were not being favored by one of the men. When I talked with Sarah I found out she had been there for three years. They had taken her captive after attacking the wagon she and her family were travelling in, looking for a place to settle. Sarah’s family were all murdered. The wagon ransacked for what it held, then burned. She was eighteen when they took her away. That meant she was no more than twenty-two. Will, she looked like a woman middle aged. She told me all about Callender’s clan. Three of the men were his brothers, a number were cousins. The rest had fallen in with Callender because they had no inclination than to follow his lead. Every man there was under Callender’s spell. He held them together. Provided for them. Gave them every base desire they wanted.’

  ‘Had anyone ever broken free?’

  ‘Not until I did,’ Cassie said.

  ‘How long were you there?’

  ‘A month. The longest weeks of my life,’ she said. ‘I survived because Callender would lead his men off on some venture. They would disappear for days at a time. Once for almost a week. There were always enough men left around to keep watch on the women. So I was free of Callender for long stretches. I knew the day would come when he had more time for me, and I dreaded that happening.’

  Tyrell fed more logs to the fire. The day was waning and the mountain chill had sneaked into the cabin.

  ‘What made you decide it was the right time to leave?’

  ‘Two things. Callender finally told me it was time he performed the marriage ceremony for us both. His way of permanently making me his own.’