Authors: Patricia Hagan
No breeze stirred through either of the two windows, and they were not allowed to have the door open at night. Snakes, Sergeant Blackmon had said. In the daytime, they could be on alert for the silent black snakes that roamed out of the swamps every now and then.
Her hands stung from the thorns and blisters suffered working in the fields. Her muscles ached painfully. Selma had told her that she would get used to it, but almost a month had passed since arriving at Tarboro, and she still suffered the miseries of the damned.
In the distance, she could hear the sounds of shrill laughter caught on the wind. Each night, it was the same. After they had eaten supper and taken their baths, the guards would come in, one by one, and select the woman of their choice for the night. Some of them actually seemed pleased at being chosen, but, for the most part, they resisted.
She thought of little Redora Grimsley, hardly more than a child. Fourteen, she said she was, as best as she could remember. She had come to Tarboro only a week after April’s arrival, having been caught slipping through the enemy lines at night to forage for the Yankees. Though not exceptionally pretty, she had such wide brown innocent eyes that she seemed adorable. A sprinkling of freckles across her upturned nose accentuated her youthful look.
She was from a small town in Pennsylvania. Her father had been killed in one of the first battles of the war, and her mother had died that winter of the fever, though Redora suspected her heart was broken and she gave up the will to live. Having no family, Redora was befriended by a Union soldier, who promised to take care of her. He had, she told them firmly, promised to marry her when the war was over. In this time of turmoil, with the cloud of death always looming over everyone, she saw nothing wrong in giving herself to him wholly, to prove the love that quickly grew in her.
When Jasper Wiley was killed in a battle, Redora told April and Selma, sobbing brokenly, the rest of his regiment kept her with them. They were her friends and Jasper’s, and they wanted to look after her. Besides, she said, there were things she could do, like cooking and cleaning utensils, doing laundry for the soldiers. She even learned to clean their guns. They never touched her “that way,” she swore, out of respect for Jasper.
Then the soldiers found themselves cut off from the rest of their company. It was Redora’s idea to sneak through the woods and steal food for them from the Rebels until they could find their way back to their own lines. If captured, she was sure she could convince the enemy that she was merely lost and trying to find her way home. Unfortunately for everyone, she was discovered. The Rebels suspected the truth, so they followed her, capturing her friends and charging her with spying. She was quickly shipped off to Tarboro prison.
She was left alone the first two nights, but then Private Ellison came for her. She had screamed and fought, and even though they were slapped and shoved aside, Selma and April tried to save her. He had called other guards to hold them back while he took the shrieking girl away. During the seemingly endless night that followed, they heard Redora scream…and they knew what torment she was enduring.
The next morning, the fresh, innocent look was gone from Redora’s eyes. She looked older, wiser, bitter. And after that night, Redora never smiled anymore. It grieved April to watch the girl wither, like a flower plucked and tossed aside.
She still struggled when they came for her, just as she had tonight, but not fiercely, for she was no match for them.
April heard another shrill laugh. On the next cot, Selma muttered, “That’s not Redora. We’ll never hear her enjoying it. That’s probably that whore, Jewel. She always makes a lot of noise, hoping Blackmon will hear and get jealous.”
April folded her arms behind her head and stared into the darkness thoughtfully. “Why does she care about him, Selma?” she asked. “Do you think she loves him?”
“I don’t know,” came the sighing reply. “He’s chosen her more than any of the others. Once or twice he’s even taken her for a wagon ride on Sunday afternoon. I’ve seen them laughing some together. You know, he’s really not so bad when you catch him in the right mood. Unfortunately, that isn’t very often.”
“Mmmm,” April considered. “He’s taken my dog away from me. Lucky would rather be with him than me. I always heard to be leery of a man a dog
doesn’t
like.”
“Blackmouth’s got a mean streak to be sure, but maybe he’s always kind to Lucky. Who knows? But one thing I do know—he’s sweet on you. What I can’t figure out, though, is how come he never sends for you to go to his cabin. Hasn’t he ever tried anything?”
April had never confided to Selma about that first day, when Kaid had been about to rape her, then stopped abruptly with no explanation. It had been so strange, and somehow she could not bring herself to talk about it. He had acted oddly since. He spoke gruffly to her, ordering her about like the other prisoners, but when he thought she was not looking, she would catch him staring at her with a tender look on his face.
“No,” she lied, finally answering Selma’s question. “He hasn’t.”
She heard her sigh, then, “Well, he will sooner or later. He’s been acting downright weird lately. He’s always taken the new ones for himself for a few weeks. First it was you he left alone, then Redora. Something funny is going on, and Jewel’s noticing, too. That’s why she’s out there screeching like a cat, hoping he’ll hear and get jealous, like I said.”
“It could be Redora.”
“No, whoever’s making that noise is enjoying it. Redora would be crying.”
They fell silent. April closed her eyes and tried to sleep but, as always, miserable worries prevented slumber from coming easily. And, as happened so often, Rance Taggart invaded her thoughts. Memories of kisses like warm sweet wine caused her to lick her lips in ecstatic remembrance.
“April?”
Her eyes flashed open, blinded momentarily by the sudden illumination. Terror prickled through her body.
“Come with me, darlin’.”
“No!” she cried out, involuntarily.
From the next cot, Selma spoke nervously. “Go with him, honey. Don’t make a fuss.”
April knew she had no choice. She stumbled along, and when they reached his cabin, Kaid Blackmon set the lantern down on a table just inside the door, then told her to go and lie down on the bed.
She did as she was told, pulling up a blanket to cover herself. She could hear the sounds of his boots hitting the floor and movements as he undressed.
“Look at me!”
She cringed.
“I told you to look at me!” With his lips mere inches from her own, he spoke in a strained, ragged voice. “Tell me I’m not ugly. Tell me you like me, April. Tell me you want me to make love to you.”
“I can’t,” she screamed. “Damn you, I won’t say those things to you! I won’t!”
“I’ll make you want me! I’ll make you want to love me.”
Then, suddenly, just like the other time, he moved abruptly away from her.
He stumbled across the cabin, this time throwing himself on the floor and beating on it, sobbing, his huge body heaving.
April huddled under the blanket and continued to stare. What could have happened to this man?
Finally, he sat up and sighed. “It’s you doing it to me, darlin’.”
“Me?” April blinked.
“You’re different from any woman I ever wanted before.”
His voice broke, and he jerked his head to one side so she could not see the tears. “Damnit, girl, I must be in love with you. I can’t stand the thought of…doing anything that might hurt you…anything you don’t want me to do.”
He forced himself to look at her once again. “I don’t even want another woman. I could have Jewel or any of them whores, but I don’t want ’em. I want you, because I love you. But when it comes right down to couplin’ with you, something inside just won’t let me. I’ve never had this happen to me before, never, and I’ve been bustin’ women since I was twelve years old and found out what this thing was good for.”
April winced, embarrassed.
“You’ve gotta understand me,” he went on miserably, searching her face for some sign of understanding. “You think I like being ugly? You think I like being so big? I can’t help the way I am. I’m not ugly, inside. Leastways, I don’t try to be.”
He took a long swallow from his jug of popskull. “If I was good-lookin’, you wouldn’t want to throw up every time I touch you, would you? You’d want me to sling you down on that bed and really put it to you.”
Suddenly, April had had enough. She quickly got to her feet, anger giving her the courage to face him. “It wouldn’t make any damn difference to me if you were the handsomest man on earth, Kaid Blackmon! Did you ever stop to think that maybe I’m not a whore? That maybe I don’t want you to ‘put it to me,’ as you so crudely call it? That I just don’t want you or any other man raping me? If I loved you, then your looks wouldn’t matter. Do you understand me? Can you stop feeling sorry for yourself long enough to understand?”
He blinked in surprise.
“You mean you could care about me if I treated you like a lady? It wouldn’t matter to you if I was ugly?”
She shook her head frantically, wanting to tell him that was not exactly what she had meant, but not wanting to hurt his feelings.
“I won’t try to do it to you again, April.” He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. He went on quickly, “I can make you want me. I know I can. I’ll be good to you. I won’t make you work in the fields no more. We’ll spend some time together, me and you, and it won’t make no difference what the others think. You’re the woman I’ve always wanted all my life…a real lady. And I’m gonna make you love me, like I love you. I swear I am.”
He reached out and pulled her down to sit beside him once more, stroking her long golden hair back from her face lovingly as she sat rigidly still. “Before the war,” he said quietly, “I was a blacksmith. You know what that is? It’s a person that makes horseshoes. I was good at it, too, because I’ve got big arms, and I can stand the heat of the fire. Then when the war broke out, I wanted to do my part. Didn’t have no family. Ma died when I was little, and I can’t remember having no pa.”
He sighed, reaching for her hand once more, and this time she allowed him to take it. “I was powerful lonesome, April, and now I know why. All those women I tussled with, night after night, them actin’ like they loved it, squealin’ and clawin’ and kickin’ their legs in the air and diggin’ their heels in my back—it was all an act. I know that now. With you, it’d be different. I know it would. You’d never put on an act. You’re a lady.”
He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “I think I loved you from the minute I laid eyes on you, huddlin’ down there in that goddamn ice pit. It made me so damned mad to see what they was doin’ to a beauty like you. And I wanted you then, and I want you now.”
Suddenly the cabin door banged open, and Kaid jerked away from her to reach for his gun propped against the wall. Ellison yelled from the doorway, “Hold it, Blackmon. It’s me. Didn’t you hear me yelling?”
Kaid snarled, “Hell, no, I didn’t hear you yelling, you sonofabitch, and you better have a damned good reason for bargin’ in here.”
“It’s that damned dog of hers!” Ellison yelled. “I think he’s run up on some wild hogs. Come out here and listen. Sounds like the damnedest fight you ever heard.”
“Lucky!” April screamed, struggling to get off the bed as Kaid reached to hold her back. “They’ll kill him!”
“You just stay put.” Kaid jumped up and reached for his pants. Grabbing the lantern and his gun, he hurried to follow Ellison, who was already on his way.
April looked around quickly and spotted an old shirt of Kaid’s. It barely reached her knees, but it was better than running naked.
Stepping outside the cabin, she heard the grunts and snorts of the wild hogs and Lucky’s growls and cries of pain, and her blood ran cold. Ahead, she could see the two men running through the darkness, and she moved to follow, ignoring the rocks that cut into her bare feet as she hurried behind them. Tears streaked her cheeks and her heart pounded wildly. He was just a mutt, she knew, but they had been through a lot together, and dear God, she did not want him to die.
“It ain’t far. Down in that ravine there,” she heard Ellison yell. “It ain’t been going on long. I was just gettin’ Redora back to the cabin, when I heard all hell bustin’ loose.”
They fought their way through the thick brambles and thorns, and April struggled to keep up. The shirt caught and tore, and as she twisted away, she felt her own flesh being ripped painfully, but still she fought to keep up with them.
“There!” Ellison yelled. “There they are! Damn, there’s only one, but he’s a big one. How you gonna get a shot in? He’s ripping that dog all to pieces.”
April pushed forward, bumping into Kaid’s back and almost falling. He gripped her elbow, holding her upright and cursing her for following. She looked down into the ravine, saw the two thrashing animals, and screamed at the sight of the snake-headed, hairy, wild hog. His sharp, upturned tusks kept jabbing at Lucky.
Lucky, covered in blood, his own and the hog’s, was flung to one side suddenly but quickly got to his feet and took up a stance, teeth bared, a low, guttural snarl coming from deep within him.
Kaid shoved her into Ellison’s arms and cried, “Hold her, damnit, I’m gonna try to shoot that bastard—”