“Now that’s the kind of bear I like,” Nate said.
As the afternoon waned, Nate stopped frequently so Winona could catch her breath. She protested that she was holding him up and he merely smiled.
Nate could hardly stand to look at her bruised and swollen face. Hate festered in him, and he was not a hating man. The slave hunters deserved what he was going to do to them.
The sun was less than an hour shy of setting when Nate announced, “This is far enough!” He came to a stop.
Winona, puffing, doubled over with her hands on her hips. “I thought you wanted to keep going until sunset.”
Nate glanced at her heaving sides and the sweat dripping from her brow. “We’ve been at this most of the day and I’m wore out.”
With masterly sarcasm Winona said, “Oh, really?” She took hold of his hand and grinned. “Always tell the truth, Husband. You are stopping because you are worried about me.”
“We have a long night ahead of us.”
They went to the river, rested, drank and set to work. First they waded into the shallows and scoured the bottom for fist-sized flat stones with thin edges. These they chipped and sharpened with other stones. Then they went in among the trees, searching.
The digging was the hard part. Their palms blistered and hurt, but they kept at it, taking turns, until the job was done.
The night filled with the cries and shrieks of predator and prey, but the meat eaters left them alone.
It was pushing four in the morning, by Nate’s reckoning, when he stepped back and nodded in grim satisfaction. “This will have to do.”
“Limbs instead of rope,” Winona said. “I hope they work.”
“Whether they do or they don’t, there will be a reckoning.”
Samuel Worth squinted against the harsh glare of the sun and licked his dry, cracked lips. He had been tied to a stake for most of the day and his body was burning hot. Beads of sweat trickled down his brow and into his eyes and made them sting. For the umpteenth time Samuel strained against the stakes his wrists and ankles were tied to, but the stakes didn’t give. He glanced to the right at his wife and then to the left at his daughter and his son, and he summed up how he felt with, “Damn me to hell.”
Emala opened her eyes. “What have I told you about cussin’ in front of the children?”
“I’m not no child, Ma,” Chickory said.
“Me either,” said Randa.
The brush rustled and out strode Olan. “If the four of you don’t shut the hell up, I will damn well shut you up.”
“The whole world is cuss crazy,” Emala said.
There was more rustling and the others came out of hiding: big, bearded Trumbo; Bromley with his shotgun; Kleist, the German; and, last of all, Wesley. The backwoodsman glanced skyward and frowned.
“Another hour and the sun will set.”
“I don’t understand it,” Trumbo rumbled. “Where are the Kings? We were so sure they’d come after these darkies.”
“We’re people, just like you,” Samuel told him. “We have names, just like you.”
Olan uttered a cold laugh. “Will you listen to him? The airs he puts on.” He took a step and kicked Samuel in the ribs as hard as he could. “When will you get it through your stupid head that we don’t care? To me you’re the same as dogs.”
Agony gripped Samuel and wouldn’t let go. He tried to double over but couldn’t, staked out as he was. Gasping for breath, he shook from head to toe. At least one of his ribs was busted, he was sure.
Emala’s eyes filled with tears and she choked down a sob. “Leave him be, you hear? He never did anything to you for you to treat him like that.”
“He’s black. That’s all it takes.”
“Enough,” Wesley said. He moved past the Worths and gazed down the trail to the west. “This bothers me. It bothers me something fierce.”
“What?” Kleist asked.
“Yeah, what?” Trumbo echoed.
“The Kings. They’re not the kind to let this drop. They should have been here by now. They should have read the note and come on fast.” Wesley gestured at the Worths. “I figured they’d spot these four staked out and lose their caution, and we’d have them.”
Emala chortled. “Nate King ain’t no fool. He’d know it was a trap and hold back until dark.”
“Could be.” Wesley pointed at Trumbo and Kleist. “I want the two of you to backtrack half a mile or so. Do it careful. Look for sign of the mountain man and his squaw.”
“We’ll fetch our horses.” Trumbo went to turn.
“Did I say to ride?” Wesley snapped. “Go on foot. That way you won’t leave sign telling King we’re expecting him.”
“Oh. You’re right. I didn’t think again.”
“That’s what I’m for.” Wesley turned and squatted next to Samuel. “Your wrists and ankles are bleeding. I told you not to try to get free, but you didn’t listen.”
“What do you care?”
“Not a damn bit. But I have a job to do and it helps me do the job faster and easier if you’re not weak from loss of blood.” Wesley regarded him thoughtfully. “Your woman says that you and the Kings are friends. Is that true?”
Samuel had to fight the pain to say, “I expect as we are now, yes. Why do you want to know?”
Emala piped up with, “They like us so much, they’ve invited us to come live in their valley.”
“This bothers me more and more. If they like you so damn much, where the hell are they?” Wesley rose. “We’ll spend the night here. If the Kings don’t show by morning, we’ll head out.”
Samuel thought of the suffering his wife and children would go through. “You’re not goin’ to keep us staked out like this all night, are you?”
“No.” Wesley drew his knife and cut a strip from Samuel’s shirt. “Open your mouth.”
“I’ll be damned if I will.”
Wesley jabbed the tip of the blade against Samuel’s neck. “You think you can sass me because I want you alive for the money. But there’s nothing that says I can’t chop off a finger or toe. Or how about if I feed you your daughter’s nose or an ear?”
“I hate you,” Samuel said. But he opened his mouth. His piece of shirt tasted of sweat.
“Why didn’t we gag them earlier?” Olan asked. “They’d have yelled their heads off to warn the Kings.”
“That they would,” Wesley agreed. “All of them, all at the same time, making so much noise, the Kings wouldn’t hear us close in for the kill.”
Olan chuckled. “Trumbo is always saying about how you’re as slick as axle grease, and I have to agree. Could be I’d like to work with you steady if you can give me your word my poke won’t ever go empty.”
“Equal shares is how we split the bounties. Not many runaways are worth as much as this bunch. But I’ve never had less than a hundred dollars in my poke in all the years I’ve been chasing black sheep.”
Emala had put up with all she was going to. “We’re not sheep! We’re human beings!”
Wesley leaned down and pinched the fleshy part of her upper arm so hard, she cried out. “It riles me when your kind claim to be the same as me. Take a good look, cow. I’m human, and my skin is white. Your skin is black. That makes you something else.”
“How can you think that? How can you be so twisted inside?”
“You just can’t stand to hear the truth, you lump of ugliness.” Wesley cut a strip from her dress and bunched it up. “Open wide.”
Emala couldn’t say what made her do it. When he started to stuff the gag between her teeth, she bit down with all her might. Blood spurted and bone crunched. She swallowed some of the blood and nearly gagged.
Suddenly Olan was there. The stock of his rifle rose and fell.
