Summary: The story plays after the episode ‘Between Heaven and Earth.’ Joe plans a well-deserved summer vacation, but the journey becomes an unexpected nightmare.

Rating: M    Word Count: 19100

Next part of the story: Reckoning And Redemption

 

Different Than Planned

Chapter 1

I lay on a rough wooden surface. Hoofbeats accompanied by the squeak of poorly greased wagon wheels reached my ears. My body was shaken up, increasing the throbbing headache until it became almost unbearable. I forced my unwilling eyelids to open. Someone leaned over me, and a whiff of whiskey and chewing tobacco wafted towards me.

“He’s wakin’ up.”

“Blindfold him. He doesn’t need to know where we’re going.”

Before I could see more than the cloudless sky above and the glaring yellow ball of the midday sun, a sweaty-smelling cloth was bound around my eyes. As I tried to reach for it, I realized my hands were tied behind my back.

“This fella ain’t no drifter. Look at that special left-handed gun belt. Someone will miss him.”

“Never mind. No one saw we took him. It’ll be like the earth has swallowed him up.”

A rough hand traced the muscles of my upper arm, squeezing. “He’s young and strong. We’ve caught a good one.”

“Yeah, the new ones are always the best.”

Despite trying to stay awake and gather as much information as possible to find out what was going on, I fell back into a dazed state. When the wagon bumped through a hole, and my head banged hard against the side, I was hurled into unconsciousness.

 

The first thing I noticed when I woke up again, head still pounding and with a sinking feeling of nausea in my stomach, was the rattling of chains and the pungent stench of urine. It was cool, and my cheek rested against something unyielding—solid rock. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. With a groan, I sat up and raised my hand to feel for my aching head. It clanged again, and I stared in disbelief at the heavy iron cuffs on my wrists, connected by a foot of solid chain. Another longer one led to a ring embedded in the rock face. My ankles were shackled as well. At first, I thought it was a bizarre nightmare, but the voice greeting me sounded real.

“Howdy, young man!”

I shook my head, trying to get rid of the fog that clouded my mind. How did I end up here? The last thing I could recall was riding to Placerville, but the details were hazy, like a dream slipping through my fingers. “Where am I?”

“In hell.”

If hell, it was a cool version, not the blazing fire our preacher liked to talk about. My gaze roamed over shimmering damp rock walls, supporting beams, a pile of rubble and stones, a wheelbarrow, and tools. I was obviously in a mine, its entrance covered with bushes—hence the twilight. Or maybe it was already evening. I had no idea how long I’d been out.

I turned to the tall, lean figure of sinewy strength. “Who are you?” My fingers felt my head. I winced as I found a lump the size of an egg.

“I’m George, that boy’s Pip. We’re in a gold mine about a day’s ride from Placerville.”

The speaker’s face was overgrown with a scruffy black beard, and his raven hair had streaks of grey, a sign of his age or the harsh conditions he had endured for too long. The red-haired, skinny young man, or rather boy, looked so lost that I felt sympathy for him. The fuzz covering his chin reminded me of my own desperate search for the first beard hairs. Both of them wore rusty chains. Their clothes were dirty and worn, their pale faces haggard.

“Howdy!” the lad greeted me in a soft voice, forcing a smile when our eyes met.

“My name’s Joe. How long have you been here?”

The bearded man did the talking. “Me for half a year, the boy for four months. Then there was Ed, but he’s dead. Guess you replace him. How did they catch you?”

I rubbed the back of my head again as a part of the memory seeped into my mind. “I was on my way to visit friends. Outside of Placerville, I met two men in two wagons. They had trouble with a broken axle, or so one said. I offered help. Next thing I knew, I woke up, and my head was killing me.” What a fool I was! It’s the oldest trick in the book, and I stumbled into their trap.

“Where are you from?”

“Ranch near Virginia City. You?”

“I’m from Texas, and I was looking for a job. And Pip’s a drifter. They pick up people no one will miss.”

“My family will miss me. I guess my friends will send a wire if I don’t show up at their place.” I groaned at the thought of Pa’s reaction when he learned I had never made it to Hubert and Joanna. “Why do they keep us here?” I looked around. The entrance area protected us from the wind and weather. Pip and I were chained to the left wall, George opposite, but so far apart we couldn’t touch.  One tunnel leading into the mountain was lost in the darkness.

George gave a bitter laugh. “We’re their workhorses. There’s a rich vein of gold. We must break out the rock and wheelbarrow it outside.”

“Is there a way to escape?”

George lowered his head. “I tried once. That’s why Ed’s dead. He was whipped hard for my escape attempt. His wounds got infected.”

My eyes fell on the iron ring in the stone wall. To test its strength, I braced my boots against the rock and tugged on the chain with all my might. The only thing I got was a rattling sound. The ring didn’t move an inch. As the gravity of the situation hit me, a wave of despair began to build inside me. The walls seemed to draw closer. They would trap me, crush me, bury me beneath them. Nausea swept through my stomach, and my heart began to race. My chest rose and fell with heavy gasps until my head became light, and the room spun around me.

“Slow down, it’ll pass,” someone called to me.

I clenched my teeth and balled my fists, resting my brow against the cool stone until I regained control. Maybe my head injury was the cause of my body’s reaction, but usually, I didn’t tend to panic.

George’s voice showed sympathy. “Take it easy. You’ll get used to it. They’ll take your handcuffs off for work, and we’ll just wear the leg irons.”

Something the man had said before nagged at my mind. “Did I hear right? Ed got whipped because you tried to escape?”

“Yeah, that’s right. The fellas have set up an evil system. You’ll be punished if I do something wrong, don’t work to their satisfaction, or damage a tool. If you screw up, Pip will suffer the consequences, and I’ll have to pay for the boy’s mistakes.”

I swallowed hard. “How are we punished?”

George laughed, revealing a burn scar on his forearm. “Oh, they’re both full of ideas. Steve, the younger, blond-haired one, likes to hit you with a willow stick—not so hard that you can’t work, but hard enough to give you a few days of pain and fever. Once, when Pip broke the glass from a lantern, Steve held my arm over the flame. Or he may chain you out in the sun for a day without a drop of water. The other, Aaron, is more likely to deny you food or increase your workload. Remember not to annoy the men. Do as they tell you.”

I made a face, for I already knew this wouldn’t be easy for me. “So, is it just these two?”

“Three. There is one woman. She’s Aaron’s wife. Steve is his cousin. The woman, Ella, is all right. She cooks the meals. We’ve got enough to eat. They want to keep us strong and healthy.”

I eyed the two buckets beside me. One was filled with clear water, and the stench of the other made it easy to tell what it was for. The thought of using it in front of my cellmates made me pinch my lips. We weren’t granted the luxury of privacy. I wet my hand and dripped water on my lump, sighing with relief as the coolness soothed the throbbing.

Footsteps sounded, and three pairs of eyes turned to the slender figure entering the mine. It was the woman we’d just talked about. I tried not to stare at her openly because she was pretty. Her bright shirt had rolled-up sleeves. She was in her thirties, with high cheekbones and a narrow nose, which looked like an artist had chiseled them. Her raised chin gave her an air of arrogance, and the indifference she radiated made clear that she didn’t care whether she was feeding animals or humans.

Her heavy cowboy boots and neckerchief would have suited a man better. With every step, the pistol at her hip slapped against her rough leather skirt. My gaze rested on the copper kettle and the tin plates she carried. Tucked under her arm was a loaf of bread.

“Feeding time?” the ironic remark slipped out of my mouth.

The woman narrowed her eyes and looked me over but didn’t answer my comment. I thought I saw a smile playing around the corners of her mouth, but I could have been mistaken. As she lifted the lid, the delicious aroma of stew filled the room. She swept back her careless tied chestnut-colored ponytail before filling our plates. Adding a generous piece of bread, she passed them around, careful not to get too close.

George and Pip tucked into the food without hesitation. I wasn’t hungry. My stomach was a tight knot, and I felt nauseous. Doc Martin would have diagnosed a concussion and prescribed me broth, I thought with a wry grin. I scooped a few sips of water from the bucket and tried to make a comfortable bed with the two thin blankets I found next to me. I curled up on my side, my head resting on one arm, and pulled the blanket up to my shoulders with a shiver.

++++

“Good morning, gentlemen!” The biting irony of the words made fun of us. From George’s description, I assumed it was Aaron. He was a clean-shaven, dark-haired man with a determined square chin and bushy sideburns. While Ella collected the empty breakfast plates, he stepped into the mine and positioned himself beside me. With one hand resting on his gun, he gave me an appraising gaze from piercing black eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Joe.”

“Good, Joe. I suppose your mates told you about how things are done here. You’ll work for us in the mine, and if you do as you’re told, you’ll be treated well and given enough to eat and drink. Don’t ever try to touch my wife. You got that?” The irritating jingle of the keys on their ring punctuated the words when Aaron twirled them around his finger.

“Yeah.”

“That’s what I figured. You look like a bright fella. Stick your hands out. I’ll unlock your shackles, and you can get to work. George’s an old hand. He’ll show you how it’s done. Any questions?”

“Nope,” I squeezed between clenched teeth, suppressing my outrage and anger. I didn’t want to get in trouble on the first day. Wait, Pip would get the punishment.

 

Chapter 2

I was forced to settle into the routine of my new life pretty fast. We had to work for twelve hours and got two meals a day. In the evening, we slumped onto the thin blankets, dead tired, and slept until the process started again. After three weeks, I felt like I had spent much of my life in that dark mine. My arms were heavy as lead, aching to the bone from swinging the pickaxe against the unyielding rock, and a new layer of calluses began to form on my hands after the initial blisters had burst and healed.

As much as I longed for the end of each long, exhausting day, I hated the moment I was chained up. Steve quickly noticed my tense jaw and fists, and with a wicked smirk, he joked about prolonging the procedure. He dangled the keys in front of my face, made a show of closing the locks, and jerked at the rattling chain. He laughed out loud when I squeezed my eyes shut, but I had learned my lesson well. I stayed still and let the chaining go over me. I still remembered the metallic taste of blood and my aching jaw from the blow I’d received when I had dared to fight back once. Worse was that Pip had to spend that night with his hands shackled high above his head, unable to eat, sleep, or use the bucket.

In those moments, I wished I lay on the rocks at the Eagle’s Nest, with the wind ruffling my hair and the endless sky above me. The air would scent of hot stones and summer, and my limbs would be free, without irons scraping my skin and sucking the last bit of warmth out of my body.

The bad dreams about falling from a cliff were a thing of the past. But now I was trapped in another nightmare, only it was reality. I’d waited for an opportunity to escape all the weeks since accepting this fate wasn’t in my nature. I’d examined the locks, thinking about how to open them, testing the strength of the chains, and wishing the woman handing out food would get close enough for me to grab her gun.

I figured she was the weakest link in the chain, but despite my polite behavior and attempts to small talk, she would never approach me or let up in her vigilance. I came to realize I’d underestimated her in the beginning. Ella moved fast and efficiently, carrying out her duties with confidence and ease. She hadn’t responded to my comments, but I had caught her giving me thoughtful glances, and sometimes a smirk flitted across her face. Was she amused by my attempts to flatter her?

‘Obviously, the Joe Cartwright charm doesn’t work this time,’ I thought, rubbing my face with resignation. I felt greasy skin covered with dust and rough beard stubble. My hair was matted and stiff, though I combed it with damp fingers every morning. It was a useless habit since nobody around here cared about my appearance. The only thing that mattered was that I could swing a pickaxe. I knew I looked worse than a drifter with my filthy clothes and my stench of old sweat.

Patience has never been my strong point, and I was on the verge of losing hope after this long time. I had to force myself to remain calm and relaxed. At times, I was tempted to ram my fist into the unyielding stone in despair or tear at my chains until my wrists were bloody. How much longer would I have to do this slave labor? This was supposed to be my damn vacation. Instead, I was in hell. I had to keep reminding myself that my chance would come. My thoughts drifted back to the fateful words from Pa a few weeks ago that started it all.

 

“Boys, I’m proud of you. You’ve worked hard these past months and earned a vacation.”

Surprised, I lifted my head from my plate to meet first Hoss’ and Adam’s astonished look and then Pa’s sympathetic one. “Seriously? Vacation?”

Pa nodded. “Yeah, I’m serious. You’ll each get two weeks, back to back, of course.”

I jumped up and headed for the box of matches, causing my chair to sway. My voice cracked with excitement. “Let’s draw lots to see who goes first!”

With a dreamy smile, I twirled the longest match in my fingers. There were more possibilities than opening moves in chess. Maybe San Francisco, with its fancy bars, the mysterious Barbary Coast, and the smell of the sea and adventure? Or should I ride with Cochise to one of our line shacks and just laze around, hunt, and swim in the river? I rested my chin in my hands and imagined sleeping as long as I wanted in the morning, fishing and grilling my catch over the fire.

No, a vacation for two would be better. I could ask Mitch to ride to Mexico with me. We could dance with fiery girls and drink pulque—darn it. My good mood was gone. Mitch wouldn’t want to go on a trip with me. He was still mad at me for beating him in arm wrestling.

By the time Hop Sing cleared the table and Pa and my brothers retired to the fireplace, I had decided. “I’m going to Placerville! I haven’t seen Hubert and Joanna in ages. We’ll go hunting and have a good time!”

The fight with Mitch overshadowed my anticipation, but I was determined to think about how to make it up to him. I wasn’t ready to give up on our friendship.

 

Burdened with two bags and a suitcase, I struggled down the stairs. Hoss stood at the foot of the staircase with his hands tucked in his belt and an amused expression. “How long are you going for? Couple of months?”

I pushed him aside, my tone mockingly desperate. “It’d only be half that if Hop Sing hadn’t insisted on taking that smoked ham as a gift, and Pa hadn’t made sure I packed my thick winter coat for our hunting trip in the Sierras.” I shoved the trunk into his hand. “Help me with the luggage, will you? Hurry up, I don’t wanna miss that coach.”

 

When I saw the upset travelers milling around the Wells Fargo counter, I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. I pulled the buckboard to a stop, exchanging glances with Pa. “Something’s happened.”

“Morning, Jim,” Pa called over people’s heads to the clerk, who handled papers, trying to keep track. “What’s going on?”

“Good morning, Mr. Cartwright. The stage had an accident two miles from town. Broken axle. It won’t run today. We had to take the passengers in a wagon and put them up at the hotel until the damage was repaired.”

“Is there a place on the next one?”

“Nope. I’m sorry. Not for another two days.”

“What now, Joseph? Shall we ride back to the ranch?” Pa eyed my luggage in the bed of the buckboard.

“No. I won’t waste another day. I’m gonna get a horse at the livery. I need to repack.”

“Alright, son. Let’s see what fits into this carpet bag.”

 

My rented horse was a bright palomino gelding with which I would do fine. I’d tied the luggage and my thick winter jacket behind the saddle and mounted. “Let’s head for our well-deserved vacation! Bye, Pa! See you in two weeks!” 

 

 

We wouldn’t have to work today or tomorrow because the men would drive the gold-bearing rock we’d quarried to town and not return until the next day. They probably brought the loot to one of the stamp mills, which crushed the stone and then washed it to extract the gold.

As usual, the woman stayed behind to keep an eye on us. We had always spent our free days chained up. After our shift, the men concealed the entrance to the mine with dry bushes. They’d planned the whole operation carefully. No one passing by would suspect there was a mine and what went on inside.

Breakfast was several hours ago, and I lay on my back, with knees bent, my forearm over my eyes, dreaming of home. If I survived this, I would apologize to Mitch and do whatever it took to repair our friendship. The lost rifle got me so upset that I hurt the people I loved, not just Mitch but Hoss and the rest of my family.  I’d been a jerk, but hindsight is always wiser.

I forced my thoughts to happier moments. In my imagination, I galloped through a meadow of colorful wildflowers toward Lake Tahoe, with the sun warming my skin and the fresh breeze carrying the smell of the water, pines, and freedom. Cooch’s hard-working muscles flexed and bulged between my legs, and my body swung to his rhythm as his hooves struck the fertile earth.

The crunch of approaching footsteps made me turn my head. I caught a whiff of soap when Ella stepped up to me, not bothering to keep a safe distance, and began fumbling with the lock.

“You’re name’s Joe?” Ella opened the chain connecting me to the iron ring. My wrists and ankles remained shackled.

“Yeah.”

“All right. Get up. I’ve got a job for you.”

I exchanged a questioning glare with George, but he shrugged. This was something new. We were never released when the men were away. Maybe Ella needed help. “What job?”

The woman’s smile made me think of the Mona Lisa from one of Adam’s art books. “You’ll find out.” She pointed to the pails with their bad-smelling contents. “First, you collect them buckets and clean them by the river.”

I would have taken any job to get out for a while. It was almost as in my dream. I sucked the air deep into my lungs which smelled of creosote and dust. Birds chirped, the sun’s hot rays burned my face, and it was so bright it took me a minute to adjust my eyes.

“Get down to the stream!” Ella gave me a light nudge with the gun’s muzzle to emphasize her order.

I obeyed without a word of protest. I had learned to follow instructions fast, as I didn’t want to make Pip pay for my disobedience. He was just a boy, and I wanted to protect him.

The water gurgled through its narrow bed. Only a few willows, alders, and grass grew on its banks, while the surrounding landscape looked more like a desert—shrubs, stones, sand, and hills.

Ella handed me a bar of lye soap. “Go wash yourself.”

I raised my brows, but the woman didn’t bat an eyelid. She leaned against a human-sized boulder, arms crossed, revolver in her hand, determined not to let me out of her sight. Shrugging, I turned my back to her. I had no objection to a bath.

Even though we were allowed a quick wash at the river once a week, overseen by Aaron or Steve, we only had one set of clothes. I smelled almost as bad as the two men who shared my fate.

I unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it back over my shoulders as far as possible. Using my hands, I lathered and rinsed my torso. Breathing the fresh air and feeling the cool water run over my skin was wonderful. Soapy water stung my eyes when I took care of my hair. I would have enjoyed it even more if I hadn’t had an audience. What was Ella up to? I brushed aside the absurd suspicion that arose in me. My imagination was too vivid.

My shirt clung damply to my body, and my hair dripped as I turned to the woman, waiting for instructions. She twisted one corner of her mouth into a half smile. “Go on,” she said, nodding in response to my unspoken question.

With another shrug, I sat down on the grass. It took some effort to remove my boots, the chains around them quite tight. Sighing, I rolled up my trousers and dangled my feet in the stream. I closed my eyes with pleasure. The sun dried my damp skin, and the coolness of the water eased the constant burning of my reddened ankles, which were chafed despite my boots.

I expected the barrel of the gun to be jammed into my ribs at any moment to tell me to hurry, but nothing happened. Eventually, I got to my feet, unbuckled my belt, and, with my back to the woman, let my trousers fall. I felt her eyes burning like two pieces of fiery coal on my bare body. Embarrassment caused the heat to rise to my face, and I avoided looking back. With my pants dangling around my ankles, I didn’t want to meet Ella’s amused or mocking gaze. I squatted down and began to lather, my eyes fixed on the trees across the river. I shouldn’t mind. If she wanted to gawp at me, she should enjoy the show. After all, she was a married woman, not a virgin who was going to faint at the sight of a naked man.

Together with the white foam, the water washed the dirt, sweat, and grease off me. Soap had never been allowed to us before, and I hadn’t felt this refreshed in weeks. I pulled at my trousers until the fabric, stiff with dirt, slid over my damp legs and hips. How I longed to wash my clothes! At home, I often complained when Pa insisted on a fresh shirt for dinner, and now I would have paid a month’s wages for a set of clean clothes. Backing away from the river, my fingers fumbled with the buttons of my shirt.

“Save yourself the trouble,” Ella said with a hint of a smile, gesturing to a small group of alders. “Head for them trees.”

Grabbing my boots and socks, I walked, clanking chains, to the alders, followed by my guard, gun at the ready. Without a doubt, she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.

“Lie on your belly, hands over your head.”

I got a queasy feeling in my stomach at the sight of the rope and the knife lying ready. She had planned and thought the whole thing through, whatever she had in mind for me.

I knew that kind of woman. Ella wasn’t a fragile city girl but a typical Western woman who learned to work hard and look after themselves very early.

 

My heart pounded fast with uncertainty as she cut the hemp into suitable pieces and laced the chains of my hands and feet to the stems of two alder trees, leaving me stretched out on the grass. Her every move was deliberate, leaving me no chance to overpower her. She pulled on the rope to make sure it was tight enough. Apparently, she was satisfied. “All right, you can roll over on your back now.”

Our gaze locked. Her eyes were sky blue, pupils dilated, and she eyed me thoughtfully, lower lip tucked between her teeth. Ella moved a strand of hair from her forehead. The color reminded me of the groomed coat of a sorrel, with the sun’s rays casting reddish reflections. She glanced around as if searching for something or trying to make a decision. Strangely enough, she seemed to be unsure—about her boldness? Did she already regret taking me outside?

After reassuring herself that the area was deserted—only the men’s three hobbled saddlehorses grazed further back along the river—she set the revolver down on a rock, stepped beside me, and knelt. Her lips curling in a smile, she pushed aside my still-open shirt, revealing my bare chest. As the realization dawned, I closed my eyes and turned my head to the side. My hunch about where this would lead was right from the start.

Her warm hands traced my ribs, hesitant, probing as if testing my reaction, then more daring. Ella’s fingertips lingered on my nipples, circling and pinching them until they hardened, drawing a moan from me.

Of course, my body responded as any young man would under the tender touch of a woman. Ella took her time rubbing and caressing my chest muscles and rib cage. By the time her fingers moved across my stomach towards my belt, I was so hard it hurt. I held my breath when she started to undo my buckle.

Ella’s gaze lingered on my crotch. The thin fabric of my pants did nothing to hide my arousal. As she skimmed the bulge, then nimbly unbuttoned my fly and slid her hand inside my trousers, her eyes were glazed over, and her mouth agape.

Another moan escaped me.

Ellas’ greedy smile and quickening breath showed she liked how I responded to her touch. A broad grin spread across her face when our gaze met. “The pants need to go!”

My hips lifted obediently as the woman pulled at my trousers. The corner of my mouth curled into an embarrassed smile, and I felt a rush of heat flashing my face as Ella studied every inch of my bare body. Sleeping with a woman was one thing. Lying naked and being inspected like horseflesh was quite another.

Light as a feather, she stroked my inner thighs, running her fingers through the wiry hair at my crotch and along my shaft, eagerly erect, waiting to be cupped. In one fluid movement, Ella stood, gathered her leather skirt, and stepped over me. With agonizing slow motion, she lowered herself onto me, her eyes flickering with desire.

I threw my head back and clenched my teeth as I sank into her. She was warm, tight, and wet, and my hips thrust up to plunge even deeper.

Ella began to move. “Slow down!” I urged, but I already knew what would happen. Oh God, I wouldn’t last long! Although I tried to hold back, my body had other ideas. My hips had a life of their own, and soon, a warm pressure built up inside me. I took deep breaths, but things got out of control faster than I could manage them. My spine arched, my fists clenched, and a cry of relief erupted.

With my body still tingling and a film of sweat on my face and chest, I sought Ella’s gaze, already knowing what to expect. I was right. Her lips were pursed in displeasure, and she didn’t look happy. Scowling, she got to her feet, smoothing her skirt. “That was disappointing. Haven’t you learned how to please a woman?”

“Not with my hands tied,” I murmured sheepishly, staring at the treetops above me.

“You’ve got a second chance. I’ll give you half an hour’s rest, and then …” Without finishing the sentence, Ella turned in a swirl of brown leather and stomped off. I was left bound and naked.

I clenched my jaw shut in anger. What did the woman expect? That a trussed-up man who hadn’t had a girl for weeks could please her? Women told me I was a good lover, but until now, I’d always had hands and mouth available. If I didn’t perform next time, would Pip have to pay?

Birds chirped, ants crawled over my chest, and a light breeze dried the sweat and dampness from my body and hair. The grass smelled sweet, whispering beside me. Overwhelmed by a sudden severe tiredness, I closed my eyes for a moment.

“Ready to go again?” the voice jolted me from my nap.

I made a face. “If you take off my chains.”

“You know I can’t take them off. You better make an effort. Otherwise, little Pip would go hungry for two days.”

This wasn’t fair. I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration. “You sure know how to motivate a man.”

Ellas squatted down beside me. She gave me a nudge, and my cock responded keenly. The woman made a satisfied noise and straddled me again. She placed her palms on the ground and began to move her hips. I sucked in a sharp breath and tried to focus on something other than the warm wetness enveloping me. I clenched my fists. ‘Think about cleaning water holes,’ I told myself. That was an unpopular task. Hoss and I usually tried to shift to Adam. ‘Take it slow. Ease up, Joe, concentrate—cold, muddy water sloshing into your boots, something slimy brushing against your arms—maybe a drowned animal or algae.

Ella picked up the speed. She’d closed her eyes, arching her back and throwing her head back. Her mouth was open, and she panted. “Oh, yes!” she burst out. As I felt her muscles tighten, I let go, too.

When it was over, she let herself sink forward until her cheek rested on my shoulder. I saw the shimmering film of sweat on her temples, her satisfied smile, and smelled her heated body, which reeked of woman and soap. She ran her fingers down my stubbled cheek and neck. “Well done! You thought I wouldn’t notice you flirt with me when I brought food, eh?”

“What did you mean?” A frown crossed my face. “I’d just tried to be polite and make small talk. We ain’t got much entertainment.”

“I saw the way you looked and smiled at me. When I first laid eyes on you, I wanted you. You’re exceptionally handsome, Joe, but you know that for sure.” Ella’s splayed fingers dug into my hair. Her tongue pushed through the barrier of my lips. In a slow dance, it explored my mouth. I tasted her sweetness and a hint of whiskey. Had she worked up her courage?

Ella sucked and nibbled on my lower lip while she used her free hand to caress my body. Letting a woman take the lead and lying passively felt strange and unfamiliar, but not without charm. Still, I wished to bury my hands in her hair and touch her skin.

Out of breath, Ella sat up. Her cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes sparkling. She looked content. “Roll over,” she demanded, and when she saw me frowning, she let out a loud laugh. “I’m sure your back hurts from work. I saw how stiff you moved. Let me give you a massage.”

I savored Ella’s deft hands moving along my spine and around my shoulder blades, working out the kinks while my cheek was pressed into the soft grass. The feeling was so good that I had to pinch my lips to prevent myself from moaning. Keep in mind she’s not your friend.

I couldn’t help but grin when a funny thought crossed my mind. Ella noticed and let out a satisfied chuckle. “I knew you’d enjoy this. It’s relaxing, isn’t it?”

“I just remembered my brother giving me a massage. He had the absurd idea of staging a bullfight to impress a girl. Unfortunately, Hoss smeared liniment for farm animals on my back—it burned like hell, and I had to jump in the horse trough to cool off.” The memory of Hoss and home sent a painful stab through my insides. I had to blink to fight off the overwhelming feeling of grief, which came out of nowhere and threatened to engulf me. Perhaps I would never see my family again but die in this stinking hole.

No, you mustn’t think like that. I had to concentrate on figuring out some way to escape. If I played Ella’s game, maybe I could gain her trust. Maybe she would drop the chains next time, or I could overpower her and take the gun. I sighed. That was a lot of ‘maybe.’

“I have to take you back!” Ella said at last, with a note of regret in her voice, giving me a teasing pat on the butt. It didn’t look as if she’d noticed my change of mood.

Physically exhausted and numb, I soon found myself chained up again in the dimly lit mine. There was no sign of what had happened between me and Ella. Only the fading smell of soap and sex on my skin was evidence that it hadn’t been a dream.

Two pairs of curious eyes were fixed upon me. George broke the silence first.  “What did she want from you?”

There was no way to sugar-coat or paraphrase what had just happened. “Sex.”

Pip’s eyes widened while George choked on the bread he’d been chewing. He sounded disbelieving. “Sex?”

“Yeah. She took me to the river, gave me soap to wash, and then made me lie between two trees.”

“God, you’re a lucky man.”

“Lucky? I was trussed up. She just took what she wanted.”

“Ella’s a beauty. You can’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy it!”

“Well, yeah, I did.” I lowered my gaze in shame.

“Aaron must never find out. Otherwise, you’re a dead man.”

“I’m not going to tell him,” I said with a sarcastic tone.

George sighed and shoved another piece of bread, leftovers from breakfast, into his mouth, “I wish I were in your shoes. Any distraction from our dull routine and any chance to leave this damned stinking mine would be welcome. I can see why the woman chose you. You’re a handsome fella. I’m old and ugly, and Pip … well, he’s just a kid.”

“I ain’t no kid. I’m sixteen!” The quiet boy’s outburst sounded so much like the teenage Joe Cartwright that a loud giggle burst from me. The echo bounced off the bare rock walls, sounding rather odd. I also used to get upset when people called me a kid.

“Enjoying yourselves?” The woman’s voice rang from the entrance. Ella entered the mine with her cooking pot and plates. “Rabbit stew!” she explained, clattering down the bowls. Three stomachs began to growl as the smell of food drowned out the stench of our buckets. My mouth began to water.

The first plate was mine. It overflowed with chunks of meat, carrots, and sweet potatoes, plus a piece of fresh bread. If I was correct, my portion was the biggest today, with the most meat. I burned my tongue as I grabbed a rabbit’s leg and took a bite. Tonight, I would be more than full.

Pa would have been pleased with my appetite but would have shaken his head at my lack of manners. Faster than hungry wolves, we used our spoons and fingers to shovel the stew into our mouths, swallowing without chewing, although there was no need to hurry. No one took our grub away.

I wiped my plate with the bread and sat back on the blankets, satisfied. What a person could get used to and how little it took to make someone happy was strange. Well, happy wasn’t the right word. Could a man, chained up like a dangerous animal, be called ‘happy?’ Surely not, but I was content for now. It was the best possible scenario in a situation I couldn’t change. It was Sunday, or what we considered a Sunday. We wouldn’t have to work tomorrow, and the afternoon with Ella had been relaxing despite the bizarre circumstances.

Would she do it again? A particular body part wanted to repeat it, stirring at the mere thought. ‘Ella is the enemy, don’t forget that,’ I scolded myself, groaning in frustration. Besides, she was a married woman. Pa would be horrified if he knew. On the list of sins, adultery was at the top.

After using the bucket, I curled on my side, hugged my knees, and closed my eyes.

 

“Joe?” Pip spoke up, a little hesitant. “You asleep?”

“Not anymore,” I mumbled as I opened my eyes, but it was pitch black.

“You were right about me. I’m a child. I’ve never been with a girl.”

I propped myself up on one elbow and waited.

“How’s sleeping with a woman? Some say girls hate it.”

Maybe the boy could hear the smile in my voice. “It depends on how skillful the man is. Women enjoy making love just as much as we do. Otherwise, Ella wouldn’t be having sex with me, would she?”

Pip sounded pensive. “Yeah, you might be right.”

“You’ll find out for yourself one day.”

“Don’t make fun of me, Joe. We’re gonna die here.”

“No. Don’t give up hope. We’ll find a way out, you hear?”

“Sure,” came the resigned reply.

“Pip? Whether you’ve been with a woman or not, you’re a man. No child would survive in these conditions.”

I heard scratching and clattering as the boy moved, then silence. Sex was a topic on every young man’s mind, and Pip was no exception. I hoped he would have the opportunity to experience it for himself. As thin and resigned as he was, I had my doubts.

 

Although I wouldn’t admit it to my cellmates, I was disappointed when Ella didn’t take me outside again the next day. It had probably been a one-off, and she realized it was too big of a risk.

Despite the rich supper, Ella served us this night, my mood was gloomy. My thoughts were at home. My family, especially my father, would be worried sick by now. They probably searched any routes I might have taken, but what traces could they find after this time? Hoss, Adam, and Pa would send telegrams and letters and offer rewards for information. They would neglect ranch work and put all their energy into the search. In the end, the blazing flame of hope would fade to a glowing lump of coal, then to a dying spark that went out, leaving nothing but a thin thread of smoke.

How long did it take to work a vein of gold? Months? Years? Even when we were done, the men wouldn’t just pat us on the shoulder, thank us, and let us go. A bullet in the head and a shallow grave in the desert was the most likely scenario.

The chains rattled as I turned to the other side, but I barely noticed. Even George’s snoring and Pip’s soft weeping when he thought we were sleeping no longer disturbed me. I had also gotten used to the stench of my clothes and the pail, the constant half-darkness, and the cold creeping from the rock floor through the thin blanket. I sighed. Tomorrow, we’d be back to working ourselves to the bone.

 

Chapter 3

Breaking out granite at shoulder height required a great deal of concentration. You had to focus on the right angle and apply the necessary force to get the desired effect. Each blow sent shockwaves through the arms, which, in the long run, put a significant strain on the body.

Panting, I paused, wiping the sweat from my brow with my sleeve, which kept dripping into my eyes despite the cool pit. George’s steady beat against the stone made me think of the Ponderosa main room, where the grandfather clock struck every hour. How many times had Pa listened to the chimes since I was missing? For how long was I condemned to work in the flickering light of lanterns to the point of utter exhaustion, spurred on by a kick or a crack of the whip or the threat of hurting the boy?

Overwhelmed with resignation, I let myself slide down the rock face, staring at my palms. My body had long since adapted, burning every ounce of fat, building extra muscle, and adding thick calluses. My mind, however, did not adjust as quickly as my body. I still rebelled against the annoying chains. It was not the work, pain, or darkness that would eventually drive me to despair, but the darn irons. I liked to run, jump, and ride, move freely, stretch my arms and legs in my sleep. Being so restricted was one of the worst things I could imagine. Like crazy, I grabbed the pickaxe and banged on the ankle chain.

“Joe, heck, what do you think you’re doing?” George’s hand clutched my shoulder in a bruising grip, shaking me. “You’re not losing your mind, are you?”

I tried to wriggle free, but the fingers wouldn’t let go.

“Stop it!” A canteen was pressed to my lips, and I came to my senses as the cool liquid sloshed into my mouth. I took deep, greedy gulps and rested my head against the rock.

“Thanks. I’m fine. I just need one minute.”

After George grabbed me under the armpit and pulled me to my feet, I went back to work. I had long since learned not to pay attention to the pain of my swollen wrists and my protesting overworked elbows and shoulders. It was always there, like the air I breathed or the eternal film of dust on my sticky, sweat-covered skin. Why worry about something you can’t change?

My thoughts wandered back to my family at home. Escape from reality by daydreaming was the best way to get through the long, exhausting hours. I pictured breathtaking fast rides with Cochise across lush meadows, a fishing trip followed by a refreshing swim with Hoss in Lake Tahoe, and an evening with friends at the Silver Dollar Saloon. I could almost feel the cool beer tingling on my tongue and smell the tobacco-filled air and the girls’ perfume.

A loud splintering of wood brought me back to reality. “Heck!” My pick had slipped from the granite and banged against an outcrop. The handle was only valuable as firewood. I glanced at the two pieces in remorse.

Hearing my curse, George turned to face me. His movements, as always, were deliberate and thoughtful to work efficiently and conserve energy. “Damn it, Joe. Who’s on guard today?”

I scratched my head, causing my matted hair to stick in all directions. “Steve.”

While we worked, one of the men always guarded the mine entrance. We exchanged a look. We both knew that meant Pip would get a beating. Our unspoken agreement was to protect the boy as much as possible.

I presented George with the battered pick. “Say this happened to you.”

“Okay, hand it over.” As my fellow prisoner took the tool and shuffled off to the entrance to report the mishap to the guard, I knew what was in store for me. I figured it wouldn’t be too bad. After all, Aaron and Steve needed us to work.

Still, I wasn’t as calm as I pretended to be when the order rang through the mine: “Everyone out!”

“What’s going on?” asked Pip, who returned to the tunnel with the empty wheelbarrow and a worried frown. His slender frame was racked with a coughing fit. He’d been suffering from a cough all week, and I could tell from his glassy eyes that he had a fever.

George showed him the broken handle.

“Oh!” The lad turned pale.

“Let’s get this over with.” I took a deep breath, braced myself, and stepped into the blinding sunlight. I’d never witnessed a punishment before, but it seemed common for the others to watch.

“Get undressed!” Steve bleated, slapping the flexible willow whip against his thigh.

I unbuttoned my shirt and handed it to George. Steve tied my wrists with a rope and threw it over the branch of a dead tree. He then pulled my arms over my head. I spread my legs for a firm footing. Clenching my teeth, I fixed the bark of the weathered wood and waited for the hiss that would betray the first lash.

Steve circled me once, stroking my bare body with the rod tip. “I don’t mind punishing you. You deserve it. It’s a shame you won’t be as productive for a few days, though. Are you scared?” A content expression flashed across his face as he bent the stick into a U-shape, then let it spring back into place. “This rod is perfect. Finding the right stick is an art. It has to be long, but not too long, and not too thick to bend well. It must also be fresh.”

“I wonder if you want to keep babbling or when you’re going to start,” I burst out, and in the next moment, I could have bitten my tongue. Adam was right. Often, my mouth was faster than my mind.

A sharp slap accompanied the menacing hiss of the first blow as wood met flesh, causing me to flinch. I tried to dodge the next ones, but Steve followed me. My knuckles went white as I gripped the rough bark to steady myself. Each of the following strikes sent searing pain through my body and made me jerk, but I didn’t utter a sound. I would not do the man that favor. I felt my skin burst, and blood dripped down my back, seeping into my waistband.

“Five more for your smart mouth!” The lashes landed on my butt and the back of my thighs, but Steve’s rage was already gone. “Ten,” he counted out the last one, and I could hear he was satisfied.

It was over. When Steve untied me, my body wanted to slump, but I tried to stay upright and show a blank face. George returned my shirt with a sympathetic expression while Steve watched me, an evil smirk curling his lips. He had ensured I’d spend a few painful days.

“Get on with it!” he ordered, handing over a new pick.

The shift was long, or maybe it just felt that way. My welts were on fire, and even the slightest touch of fabric against bursting flesh was almost unbearable. It took me everything to keep working and not show Steve, who checked on us, how sore I was.

Since tomorrow was Sunday, we spent two extra hours loading the gold-bearing rock onto the two wagons. The cousins would go to town and we would have two days to rest and recover, giving my back time to heal.

 

The next day, after the men drove away, Ella came in with our breakfast, oatmeal, and coffee. At home, I wouldn’t have touched the slimy gruel, but here, like my mates, I ate everything without complaining and with a good appetite. We didn’t care what the woman served as long as it was hot and plentiful and gave us the strength to survive another day.

When we finished, Ella collected the cups and plates. My heart leaped with excitement as the woman approached me with the key in her hand. I could feel George’s piercing stare, but I didn’t dare look him in the eyes for fear he would see the anticipation written on my face since every trip outside was a welcome change and presented an opportunity to escape. Instead, I kept my head down and waited for instructions.

They came after Ella released the chains. “Take those buckets!”

“Yes, ma’am.” I forced my stiff body to stand up straight.

I stepped out of the mine, waited for my eyes to adjust to the brightness, and then shuffled after the woman down to the river, emptying the pails and rinsing them. As the movement caused the deepest welt to burst open again, I gritted my teeth and stifled a groan.

I knew what was to come when Ella handed me the soap with a suggestive smile. As I pulled my shirt down and began to wash, the woman noticed the wounds. She drew in the air with a hiss. “Your back!”

“It will heal.”

“I suppose it was Steve. He enjoys having power and letting others dance to his tune. I’ll deal with it later.”

It was the same process as a week ago, but I’d managed to control myself better this time. The painful welts also helped to hold me back. Standing up and adjusting her skirt, Ella flashed me a pleased smile. “Wait here. I’ll get a salve for your wounds.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I replied with a hint of sarcasm as I rolled onto my side to take the weight off my burning back.

Ella returned, holding a metal tin and a bottle of golden liquid. “Painkiller,” she grinned and knelt in front of me. Using her teeth, she pulled the cork out and took a deep swig before offering the whiskey to me. I nodded in agreement. Alcohol would help me to forget my miserable situation and spend a few hours in a pleasant state of indifference. Ella held the bottle to my lips, and the pungent liquid filled my mouth, burning its way down my throat and into my stomach.

I grimaced and tried not to cough. “Nasty stuff!”

“The more you drink, the better it gets!” Her deep laughter echoed through the trees as she took another drink and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

By the time she knelt behind me and pulled up my shirt, only a tiny amount of rotgut was left in the bottle, and we were both drunk. Ella applied the ointment to the open wounds on my back, causing my body to relax under the influence of the alcohol and her gentle, skillful treatment. The sharp pain subsided, giving way to a dull throbbing.

“That’s good,” I mumbled into the grass-covered ground, my tongue heavy. “You’d make an excellent nurse.”

Her hands moved lower, making me stiffen.

“That’s inappropriate for a nurse.”

“You got a nice butt,” she said with a chuckle as she dealt with the welts on my backside and thighs, which were not as deep since the clothes had protected the skin.

“Pull up my pants, will you?”

“Okay!” Ella drew my trousers up over my hips and buttoned them, giggling as she made sure everything was tucked in neatly on the left side.

“Thanks!”

The woman snuggled beside me, nuzzling her face against my neck. She stroked my bare chest until her fingers came to rest on an old injury near my right shoulder. “Apart from all those scars, you have a perfect body, Joe. You seem to have a tough life. Are you a gunslinger?”

The idea made me smile. “No, a cowboy. I work a ranch, but trouble always finds me. After all the bullets I took in my right shoulder, it’s a miracle I can still use my right arm, our doctor says. I was even hit by an Indian arrow once.”

“I’d love to hear the story about that arrow, but you’ll have to tell me next time. Get up. Take them pails. I must take you back.” Ella loosened the ropes and used the gun to hold me at bay. The colt looked huge in her hands, and the woman’s gaze followed mine. “Don’t even think about it. I can handle it and won’t hesitate to shoot you in the knee. You can still swing a pickaxe with a busted leg.”

When we approached the mine entrance, Pip’s barking cough rang out. Piercing guilt flooded my insides, washing away my good mood. While I enjoyed myself, I’d forgotten how miserable George and the kid were. “Ella, wait a minute. Pip’s sick. He’s coughing and feverish. He needs a doctor and to keep warm.  Maybe you could give him my winter coat? It was in my luggage.”

“A doc ain’t possible, but I’ll see what I can do when the men get back. I’ll search for that jacket and bring hot coffee for supper.”

“Thanks.”

My mates gave me a critical look as I hunched over in my place, chained up again. Could they see I was drunk? I closed my eyes to avoid meeting her reproachful gaze.

 

As I had done for the last few days, I offered Pip some of my grub in the evening—a double portion because I’d been a good boy, I supposed. When I stretched out, I could push my plate over to him with the tip of my boot.

Tonight, the boy refused with a shake of his head. He pulled the jacket Ella had brought him tighter around his skinny shoulders. “No appetite.” A cough interrupted his words. It sounded wet and rasping. Pip had a lung infection.

“George, want a piece of bread?” I asked him, ready to throw him a generous slice.

“Keep your goddamn bread, Joe. You’ve been with the lady for hours. You reek of whiskey. Did you have a nice party while we rot in this hole? Why don’t you do something to get us outta this?”

“I’m trying to gain her trust. I’m working on a plan, okay?”

“A plan? Looks to me more like you’re trying to curry favor. You like to fuck her, huh?”

“I only do it because I have no choice!”

“You’ve always got a choice!”

“Yeah, what choice? If I don’t perform, the kid will be punished. Besides, she doesn’t trust me. She always has a gun, and I wear the irons. It’s not as easy as you think!”

“She’s a woman! A man like you should be able to handle a woman!”

“Don’t fight. We gotta stick together,” Pip’s weak voice interrupted us.

“Hell, kid. We should get those benefits. We’ve worked for these fellas for months. Joe’s only here for a few weeks. This ain’t bloody fair. It’s your good looks, eh, Joe? Women love you!”

“I can’t help how I look!”

“The least you can do is use it to get us the hell out of here!”

 

The next morning, the usual procedure began after breakfast: collect the buckets, shuffle outside, and walk down to the river. Handing me the soap, Ella grimaced. “Your clothes stink; you should wash them.”

I raised my chained hands. “I can’t undress.” Maybe this is the chance I’ve been waiting for.

“Okay.” She kept her distance, tossing me the key, muzzle pointing at my stomach. I could tell from her expression that she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot, but I hadn’t quite figured out how tough she was. “Sit down. Unlock your ankles and take off your pants.” She watched with satisfaction as I complied. “Now, put the cuffs back on. Repeat with your hands.”

Ella smiled, her eyes lusting over my body. The water caressed my legs as I began to wash my clothes. Walking around buck naked in front of a woman who enjoyed the sight like a good show still made me feel embarrassed, although there was no reason to be shy. After all, we’d already had sex.

An unpleasant thought crossed my mind as I spread my shirt, trousers, and socks in the sun on a rock to dry. “What if someone comes by?”

“No one will come by, and the men won’t return until tonight. We’ve got all day together.”

Unnoticed by Ella, I pulled a face. That line was more suited to a couple in love, not a kidnapper, and her—what was I? Her plaything?

“Are you finished? Then head over to the trees.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Call me Ella.”

My frustration, anger, and displeasure were evident in the sarcastic tone of my words: “Yes, Mrs. Ella.”

She hissed in annoyance and rolled her eyes. What did she expect? To play husband and wife with me? How could she ignore the fact that I was her prisoner, to be used at her will?

This time, I didn’t manage to satisfy Ella. Her mouth twisted into a frustrated grimace as she stood and stared at me. The aftermath of my climax left me gasping for air and my head buzzing. Without a word, she turned and made her way to her cabin. “Ella, wait!” I called after her, but she didn’t look back.

For several hours, I lay stretched out among the alders. The sun, which had greeted me in the morning, caressing my face with friendly, warm rays, had now become my enemy. On its way to the west, it forced like a bayonet through the gaps between the leaves and chased away the trees’ shadows. Greedy beams swept without mercy over my lower body’s untanned skin, hurting, burning, and blistering it. Satisfied with its work, the yellow ball lost its power and sank toward the horizon.

I longed to be back in the coolness of the mine or to soak in the river, which flowed through its bed with a taunting mumble. My back itched, sweat clung to my skin, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, which went so dry that it hurt to swallow. Insects buzzed around me, and a mountain bluebird chirped above me in the branches, unimpressed by my presence.

I struggled in vain to reach the knots in the ropes. All I got was sore wrists and agonizing cramps in my shoulders and arms. I wanted to scream my frustration, but I clenched my fists and tried to concentrate on something other than my discomfort. It didn’t work.

When Ella returned, the sun already low, a wave of gratitude for ending my misery flowed through my body. She tossed my clothes, long since dried, into my lap, followed by the key. “Get dressed.” Then, at gunpoint, she led me back to my prison. Even though the fabric of my pants rubbed against the sensitive, tight skin of my legs with every step I took, I didn’t let on.

 

If George and Pip had noticed that my meal was meager, just a small portion of stew and a tiny piece of bread, they wouldn’t have mentioned it. I figured Ella out. She operated on a carrot-and-stick basis. If I pleased her, I was rewarded with privileges; if I didn’t, I was punished.

I could feel George’s hostility toward me. He must have noticed my clean clothes, smelled the soap, and thought—what? That I’d spent the day having a good time with Ella? He had no idea of the fiery red, painful sunburn on my lower body or how thirsty I was when I staggered back to my place.

 

“My wife says the boy is sick?” Aaron released our handcuffs after breakfast to send us to work. Pip pulled his head between his shoulders and ducked as if expecting punishment.

“He needs rest and warmth,” I jumped in.

“We can do that. He’ll get an hour a day if you work longer!”

I didn’t hesitate one second. “Okay. You’ve got a deal.”

“Fine, then get to work. Kid, you’ve got one hour off. You can go outside and sit in the sun.”

George pushed the wheelbarrow while I shouldered the pickaxe and grabbed a lantern. We shuffled along the tunnel to the rattle of our chains and the squeak of the wheel, our shoulders and heads slumped. His look showed that he thought I was the world’s biggest fool. “Joe, you’re a fucking idiot. Pip will die anyway.”

“Not if I can help it! And if you cared about him, you’d work an extra hour too, so he’d have two hours in the sun.” Determined, I swung the hoe at the rock face.

“You can play the Good Samaritan, but leave me out.”

 

Ella surprised me at supper by casually dropping the tin of ointment in my lap. I thought I heard a mumbled apology, but she said it so low that I could have been mistaken. Was she sorry for leaving me to bake in the sun?

“What did she give you?” George asked, eyes narrowed, after Ella left.

“A salve. I got sunburnt yesterday.”

“That woman’s got a real thing for you.”

When I opened the jar and inspected the greasy contents, an idea popped into my mind. Maybe … Digging one finger in, I smeared a dollop of ointment on my right wrist, bent my thumb into my palm, and tugged. The iron slid to the broadest part of the bone and stopped. Gritting my teeth, I continued the twisting and pulling. Pain shot through my hand as unyielding metal bruised my skin. I was aware of my fellow inmates’ eager gaze resting on me. A tense silence hung in the air, disturbed only by the clanking of my chain and my strained moans.

With an agonized exhale, I let my arm fall. “Doesn’t work. I’d have to break my thumbs—both of them—to get out. That would be an option, but it’s not one I’m too keen on.”

“Damn it,” George slammed his fist on the ground, then rubbed his face. “We’re going to rot here!”

I spent the next hour poking around my lock with a scrap of rabbit bone, hoping to open it, but to no avail. What I needed was a bent piece of wire.

 

Chapter 4

Despite sunbathing every day, Pip didn’t get better. His cough, which reminded me of Pa’s pneumonia last winter, still came from deep in his chest. I was afraid it was only a matter of time before he collapsed. I had no idea where he found the strength to go on.

The week passed with our routine of working, eating, and sleeping. I was so dog-tired every evening that I had no time to think. The boy’s coughing fits had become a familiar background noise, and it shocked me to find myself too exhausted to feel sympathy.

As Ella served breakfast, I watched her from under lowered eyelids. Would she take me outside again? Although I appeared calm, my heart pounded like crazy up to my throat while I sat against the rock wall, legs bent, forearms resting on my knees. Did the woman shoot me a look? Had a smile curled her lips? On the one hand, I feared Ella and her quick mood swings if I didn’t act to her satisfaction. On the other hand, the prospect of forgetting my miserable situation, relaxing, and enjoying the sunshine outweighed the fact that she’d use me. And, of course, the hope of freeing myself during one of the trips outside had not died.

Yes, the physical relief Ella gave me didn’t bother me too much, though I was ashamed to admit it, because it was wrong to feel that way.

Ella stepped towards me and pulled the key out of her pocket with a clink, a sound I’d hoped and yearned for. While George flashed me a hostile glare, I hid my expression behind my hands. I understood he was jealous, and with good reason. He must have thought that I only had my pleasure in mind.

Without a word, Ella gestured to the entrance with her revolver. Today, she seemed unsure, nervous, and less relaxed than usual. While watching me wash, she shifted from foot to foot as if in a hurry or struggling with a decision. When we reached the trees, she secured my ankles, then removed the iron from my right wrist, fixing only my left to the alder. That was new! I tried not to stare at the key and the weapon she placed on a rock a couple of yards away.

Her body came between me and the symbols of freedom, blocking my view of them. I heaved a sigh, but I was distracted when Ella crouched beside me, pushed my open shirt aside, and caressed my torso until it grew tight around my crotch. A gasp escaped me when she undid my pants and pulled them to my knees. The sight of how ready I was brought a smile to her face. “Make love to me, Joe!”

She sat astride my thighs, took my hand, and placed it on her knee. No words were necessary. I knew what she expected of me. Watching the woman’s face, I slid my hand higher, pushing her skirt aside. As my fingers met warm moisture, I began to stroke Ella in a circular motion. She arched her back and pressed against my fingers. It wasn’t long before she threw her head back, closed her eyes, and let out an excited moan. As she reached for me, intending to lower herself onto me, I stopped her with a firm grip on her thigh.

“What about your husband?”

Her eyes flew open, and deep furrows dug into her smooth forehead. “How can you ask now? Go on!”

“What do you want from me?”

“Isn’t that obvious? You ain’t stupid, Joe!” Annoyed, Ella slapped my hand away and slid backward.

“Won’t your husband give you what you need?”

“All he cares about is that damn gold. He doesn’t mind what I need,” she hissed, staring at me, eyes dark with rage. “Will you continue now?”

“No.”

“No?”

I grabbed her wrist, feeling tender bones under a delicate layer of skin. “You will get the key and open the chains. I won’t play your games any longer!”

“Let go of my arm. Now! If not, I can make you suffer, not just you, but all of you.”

“You think that scares me?” Even though I hated to hurt women, I squeezed harder and twisted her arm until Ella let out a yell.

“You’re breakin’ my arm!”

“Get the key!”

“No!” Her free hand shot between my legs. Grasping my privates, Ella squeezed and twisted.

A scream broke out of me. “OH GOD.” The pain was beyond anything I’d ever felt before! Gunshot wounds, burns, and even the arrowhead in my shoulder hadn’t been so bad as the red, hot agony cutting through my insides like sharp knives. I pressed my hand to my crotch and tried to curl up into a ball, but the ropes stopped me. Trapped in my torment, I rolled around, tears spilling from the corners of my eyes. Through the veil of pain, I saw Ella standing beside me, her fist pressed to her mouth. I wasn’t sure if she was angry with me or terrified at what she had done to me.

“Trusting you was a mistake, Joe.” Bending down, she untied the ropes and reattached the iron to my wrist so rough it pinched my skin.

“Think I’d play your sick game?”

“You got your money’s worth, too, didn’t you? You can’t tell me you didn’t like it. I thought you were smart enough to appreciate the benefits, but it seems I was wrong.”

“You only used me!”

“So what? I treated you well, didn’t I? I saw how keen you were to stick your cock between my legs. Come on. Get up, back to the mine!”

By the evening, my balls were swollen twice their size and a deep purple. The horrible sight made me cringe. A dull pain still pulsed through my lower stomach, and I could barely find a comfortable position. What if she had damaged something?

“Joe, what happened? Did she hurt you?” Pip asked, noting my obvious discomfort.

“I tried to break free,” was my curt reply before I rolled onto my other side to face the wall. After pulling the covers over me, I fell into a restless sleep. I didn’t notice we got nothing for supper.

 

When Ella came in with breakfast the following day, I saw the dark bruise I’d caused when I grabbed her wrist. Ashamed, I averted my eyes. I was not the kind of man who liked to be rough with a woman. There was no clattering of plates. Instead, I heard George’s outraged voice. “Just bread and water?”

“Thanks to Joe.”

The woman didn’t empty our buckets or show her face for the rest of the day. George grumbled and muttered, cursing under his breath. If Ella wanted to split us up, she succeeded. “Joe, what the hell have you done?”

Out of respect for the boy, I told the story’s harmless version. “I grabbed her arm and threatened to break it if she didn’t give me the key. I had to let go when she twisted my balls. Stop complaining, George! You wanted me to do something to get free. Now you have to live with the consequences.”

As I did all night, I dampened a scrap of my blanket and put it between my legs to cool the swelling. Everything felt sore and hot. It would be quite a while before I could perform again, but I figured my trips outside were past anyway.

Pip wrapped his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth, humming to himself, interrupted by coughs. The constant clanking of the chains that accompanied his movements gave me a headache. I wanted to yell at him to shut up and lie down, but I clenched my jaw and tried to flee into one of my daydreams.

The dim twilight of evening filled the pit as we heard voices. The men were back. I sat upright. My heart pounded like crazy because I knew there would be trouble. Very likely, Aaron had discovered the bruise on his wife’s arm. What sort of story had she told him? I was sure she hadn’t mentioned our time together.

I tried to figure out Aaron’s mood from the sound of his boots and his posture. The steps approached fast and determined, and his tense shoulders and pinched mouth screamed anger. The two men came to stand beside me. Steve carried a hideous smirk on his face and the willow whip in his hand. Aaron’s fist grabbed my hair and jerked my head back, forcing me to look straight into his dark, sparkling eyes. “Ella told me what happened. If you ever touch my possessions again, you can spend your nights with your hands tied behind your back. I don’t care how you eat or use the bucket. You got that? The only reason I don’t have my cousin whipping the skin off your pathetic body is because we need you to work. But keep in mind you’re replaceable.” Aaron let go of my head and spat.

Steve ran the tip of his rod over my neck and cheek. “I’d love to punish you!”

“Leave him be.” Aaron grabbed his cousin’s arm. “It’s a week’s bread and water for everyone, and you will work two hours more. Goodnight, gentlemen.”

Frustrated, I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the hard rock, not wanting to see the anger and disappointment of my fellow prisoners. I had messed up badly.

Aaron was almost at the mine entrance when he stopped, turned, and searched his vest. I stiffened as he approached me once more with a sweeping stride. I watched him pull a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “I almost forgot about this. All of Placerville is plastered with those posters. I considered taking the reward, but you’re worth more working.” He tossed the paper into my lap.

I unfolded it and smoothed it out. The drawing of my face—very well done—looked at me. It was a wanted poster offering a $1000 reward for information on my whereabouts. I ran my fingertips over the paper, imagining Pa and my brothers putting it up all over town. They must have been desperately searching for clues and asking around. Overwhelmed with homesickness and discouragement, I curled up, hoping to fall asleep and forget.

 

Chapter 5

The week of meager rations and a workload of fourteen hours a day took a noticeable toll on us. Steve wasn’t shy about giving us the odd lash on the back or legs if he thought we didn’t work fast enough.

George and I kept picking stones out of the rock and loading them into wheelbarrows, which Pip took outside. He had the easiest job, but it was all he could muster in his present condition.

Once, a small charge was set to widen the shaft, and we spent half the day hauling rubble and large boulders outside. The dust hung in the air for hours, settling on our skin, hair, and clothes and drying out our mouths. I couldn’t understand how miners could stand working underground for so long. George had been right with his comment the first night. It was hell.

A week after the incident, on a Sunday, Ella arrived with a sumptuous breakfast: coffee, fresh bread, and bacon. We breathed a sigh of relief. The sentence was done.

As she started to handle my chains, I looked up in surprise. I hadn’t expected her to resume our time together, but Ella acted as if nothing had happened. She led me down to the stream at gunpoint and handed me the soap.

At the alders, she waved me down. After securing my ankles and left hand, she knelt next to my head and ran her fingers through my still-wet hair. “Promise you won’t try anything this time?”

I stared into her blue eyes, then let my gaze drop. “You know I can’t promise,” I said softly.

“Yeah, I guessed that. But you’re no fool. Surely you don’t want to work another week on bread and water, or worse? What do you think my husband would do this time?” Ella’s hand brushed casually over my hip. “I like you, Joe. I Don’t want to hurt you.” She tugged at my pants. “Let’s take them off.”

Obeying, I lifted my hips.

Before she straddled my thighs, she spread my legs to inspect my groin area. The feeling of humiliation was overwhelming. Hot-faced, I stared up at the azure sky above me, which was the same color as Ella’s eyes. I held my breath as her fingers touched the still discolored, sensitive, swollen tissue.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

I tensed up and let out a soft groan as Ella cupped my balls, applying light pressure. “Yes, ma’am!”

The woman released her grip, causing me to slump. My nerves were rattled by her teasing game of threat and lust. She ran her delicate fingers over my inner thighs until I squirmed and shuddered, then encircled my semi-hard member. “Need some encouragement?”

“Well, mentioning your husband wasn’t helpful.” However, I couldn’t resist Ella’s skilled hands for long. Embarrassed and annoyed by how eager my body responded to her touch, I turned my head to the side.

Ella let out a bright laugh. “I’m glad I didn’t cause any permanent damage.” Then she grabbed my free wrist and slid my hand between her legs. “Do your job well!”

With a resigned sigh, I began to caress her tender folds and little knob, probing with my fingers until a wave of wetness and little moans of pleasure told me Ella was ready. She reached for my shaft and lowered herself onto me. Skin slapped against skin as she bounced up and down, slowly at first, but not for long. Our rhythm increased until the climax washed over us in a violent wave of fulfillment.

“Good boy!” Ella praised me and leaned forward until her upper body rested on mine. With her head on my shoulder, she played with one of my nipples. Sticky sweat coated our bodies, my chest rising and falling as my heartbeat slowed to normal. My free hand came to lay on the woman’s back.

Of course, I enjoyed being outside, the sex, and washing at the river, but I had to do something. I must win her trust and plan to get us out of there, no matter what it takes.

I was startled to find myself caressing Ella’s neck and playing with her hair. Balling my hand into a fist, I laid my arm in the grass. This woman was worse than a spider. She had given me a taste for it, spun me into her web, and was about to suck me dry.

A shudder shook me when Ella’s fingers—spider legs—slid over my stubbled cheek and trailed along my jawline. “It would be nice to shave you. I don’t like the beard.”

“That’s not possible. It would be too conspicuous.” I cringed at the thought of Ella handling my neck and face with a sharp razor.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Ella sighed and changed the subject. “How about apple pie?”

A picnic? Did I get that right? “Apple pie? It’s my favorite.” I forced myself to sound enthusiastic.

“Fresh baked this morning. I’ll get us a slice.”

As soon as Ella turned her back on me, the first thing I did was pull up my pants. It made me feel less vulnerable.

My eyes darted over the grass surrounding me. I needed a long, thin branch to reach the key, but all around were short twigs. Heck. Try something else. I could grasp the rope that tied my left wrist to the tree, but the knot was too high. Hurry up! I broke into a fresh sweat as I glanced over my shoulder toward the cabin where Ella had disappeared. She would be back any moment. I ran my hand through the grass. Maybe I could find a sharp stone or shard of glass to cut through the hemp. My fingers brushed over round pebbles and a few roots, but I found nothing useful.

Too late. The woman returned, holding a plate and a bottle of whiskey. Not wanting to show my frustration, I twisted my mouth into a false smile. “It smells wonderful.” My stomach growled in approval.

Ella’s face lit up. She sat beside me with her legs tucked under her and broke off a piece of pie. “Open your mouth,” she ordered with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I can feed … ” The pastry landed in my mouth. Juicy sweetness exploded on my tongue. Ingratiate and gain her trust. “Yum,” I mumbled before she fed me the next bite.

“Whiskey?” The woman pulled the cork from the half-full bottle.

“Ella.” I took a deep breath. “Please untie me. I promise …” My eyes flickered involuntarily to the side. I’ve never been good at telling lies. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Brushing a strand of hair from her brow, Ella shook her head. “I don’t believe you. I can see you’re lying.”

“Think I’d do you harm?”

“No, but you’d run away. I’m not gonna untie you. Want some whiskey?” She held out the bottle.

“I’d rather have coffee.” Brewing coffee would give me time to get rid of these ties.

A shrug was the answer. “No, you’ll have to settle for whiskey.”

The sweet pastry made me thirsty. With a sigh, I reached for the bottle and took a couple of deep gulps.

“Got any family, Joe? A wife?”

“Not a wife, but a father and two brothers. We run our ranch together. My pa’s worried sick by now.”

“Aaron doesn’t care about me. All he longs for is to get enough gold out of the mountain to enjoy the rest of his life without worrying about money. Having a wife to serve him when he needs female company comes in handy. Our love has long been dead. I don’t even understand why I married him at all. I’ve thought of running away. Would you run away with me?”

My heart skipped a beat. It was absurd. We sat together, chatting and sharing the pie as if we were a couple on a Sunday picnic. What did Ella want to hear? That I was in love with her? That we could live together? What kind of crazy idea did her twisted brain come up with? Did she believe I liked her so much that I would run away with her?

I could tell from Ella’s raised eyebrows that she still awaited my answer. Determined to tell the truth, I forced myself to adopt a tone of regret. “Ella—you’re married. I was brought up to respect marriage. We can’t live together. It would be wrong.”

Elle moved higher until her face was right across mine. Her ponytail slid forward, tickling my chest, and her breath caressed my cheek. “You’re such a decent man. I love you, Joe!”

“I …” My reply was stifled by her mouth pressing hard against mine. She kissed me with wild, desperate desire. Coaxing my lips apart, her tongue demanded access. It swirled around, teasing me, exploring me. Then, in contrast to the velvety softness of her tongue, pearly white teeth nibbled on my lower lip. When we pulled apart, we both struggled for breath. Ellen’s face was flushed, her eyes veiled with lust, but the kiss had also left its mark on me. The woman didn’t miss the bulge in my pants. She reached in with a smile and pulled my hardened member out for another round.

Drained and engulfed by the pleasurable, deep exhaustion of good sex, we lay side by side, staring at the cloudless sky. Despite the shady alders, scorching heat enveloped us. Pleasant sloth paralyzed my body. I was too lazy to raise my hand and brush aside an insect crawling across my neck. A sermon came to my mind in which our preacher had raved about the seven deadly sins. Sloth was one of them if I remember correctly. I had to take action. I had to break free. But not now. I’d rest a little longer and wait for my fatigue to subside. Then, I’d figure out a plan.

The murmuring river and birds’ song faded, and my body drifted asleep.

 

People who spend much time in nature develop a seventh sense of danger. A noise woke me up. Something wasn’t right, but I didn’t know what. I felt the rays of the setting sun sting my skin, a heavy arm on my chest, and drops of sweat tickling my temples. The stale taste of whisky was in my mouth. The birds still chirped, and the grass whispered. So far, so good. What didn’t fit into the peaceful picture was the sound of hoofbeats.

“Ella, wake up!” My voice was hoarse from sleep, and I cleared my throat. The body next to me stirred, the arm disappearing.

“Damn it!” Ella became frantic. She bent over, fiddling with my ropes. “They’re comin’ back!”

“WHAT?”

I tried to straighten up, but I was pulled back down by the restraints. A surge of heat rushed through my body, and I came wide awake. “Hurry up!” I hissed at Ella, her fingers flying to untie the knots. She shook so much that she barely managed to get the key into my wrist chain to relock it.

“Get dressed and run back to the mine!”

Her request was unnecessary. Breaking into a sweat, I closed my fly and fastened my shirt. One of the buttons came off and disappeared in the grass. I saw Ella trying to straighten her disheveled hair when I grabbed my boots and socks. If I could duck down and stay behind the bushes, I might be able to make it to the mine unnoticed.

Trying to run with chained ankles was foolish; I learned quickly and hard. I stumbled and fell flat on my face. Behind me, I could hear heavy footsteps trampling through the grass. The noise of a warning shot shattered the silence. Waiting for the inevitable, I stayed put.

“Hey, what the hell’s going on?” Aaron grabbed his wife’s arm, yanking her around to face him.

Steve approached me, his pistol still in his hand. A brutal kick to my shoulder made me roll onto my back. He let his eyes sweep across me, lingering on my bare feet and half-open, untucked shirt. His angry expression changed to a knowing, lewd grin. “The pretty boy fucked my cousin’s wife, didn’t you? Uh-oh, he won’t like that at all.”

“Wife! Can you explain this?” Aaron, his fingers clawed deep into the flesh of Ella’s upper arm, dragged her towards the alders. The ropes, the crushed grass, and our disturbed appearance spoke for themselves. There was no need to explain what we’d done. Aaron looked into his wife’s face, her head down, and at me, staring back defiantly. “I’ll deal with you later, woman! You stay put!” He slammed Ella against a tree. Fear flickered in her wide-open eyes as she pressed her back against the trunk.

As Steve grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me to my feet, Aaron took a threatening step towards me. “Look at that! My wife’s doing it behind my back with our handsome captive!”

“No darling, it wasn’t like that!”

“So, what was it like? You’ve got grass in your hair, and Joe’s half-naked. Looks like you had a nice little party. How long has this been going on for?”

“We …” Ella fell silent, unable to come up with a sensible explanation. This was confirmation enough for her husband that he was right.

Her gaze searched mine for help, but what could I say? My heart raced, and my mouth went dry. I was sure the worst punishment of my life awaited me, ending with my death.

Aaron’s voice dripped with wrath and loathing. “Steve, go and tie that scum to a tree. You can do whatever you want with him. Bury the remains where we dumped Ed when you’re done.”

“Don’t hurt Joe,” Ella pleaded in desperate tones. “Please! It’s not his fault!”

“Now you’re even defending him? You’re pitiful, woman. You’ll get your share of punishment, too. Maybe I should try Steve’s willow cane on you when he’s done with your lover. Yeah, I think that would be appropriate.”

Steve jammed the gun muzzle in my back, and little drops of spit flew through the air as he barked at me. “You heard the boss. Move.”

As Steve bent down to grab a rope, I clenched my fists and prepared myself. I wouldn’t make it that easy for him. Rather than be whipped to death, I’d die in a fight.

Now! I spun around in a flash, wrapping the chain around Steve’s neck. With his left hand, he reached for the choking chain, his right still clutching his weapon.

“Let him go!” Aaron hollered. He circled us, his venom-spraying eyes and pistol trained on us.

My breathing came in fast gasps as I held his struggling cousin as a shield. While spasms ran through Steve’s body, I stared into the deadly muzzle of Aaron’s gun. A sardonic grin distorted his features. He knew his chance to shoot would come when his cousin collapsed in my arms.

Steve’s hand, holding the gun, twitched aimlessly through the air when his legs gave way, causing me to miss the tiny movement of Aaron’s finger curling around the trigger. Two deafening shots fired almost at the same time made me wince. A searing pain, unexpected and paralyzing, ripped through my chest. The force spun me and knocked me off my feet. Through the wafting powder steam, I saw Aaron collapse with his hands clasped to his belly.

What happened? My body wanted to give out, but the pain helped me to stay awake. Pull yourself together! Concentrate! I unwrapped the chain from Steve’s neck and took the still-smoldering .44. from his grasp, tucking it into my belt.

Ellas’ wide eyes flitted between me and her husband. She rushed beside him, stopping dead, when she saw the fast-spreading red stain on his shirt. “Oh, God, no!” she cried, trembling hands fumbling with the fabric.

After several deep breaths to clear my head, I grabbed one of the ropes to tie up Steve, who still struggled for air. When I joined Ella, who was trying to stop Aaron’s bleeding with her bare hands, I saw the full extent of his injury where Steve’s accidentally fired bullet had hit him.

The man’s face was snow-white and contorted with pain, dark red blood gushing between fingers, pressed to his stomach. A gaze, dull with agony, bored into mine. “You regret this, boy, even if I have to haunt you from beyond the grave,” he hissed; then the tense hands went limp, and his head fell to the side.

Ella burst into sobs, her eyes shimmering lakes overflowing with tears. “Don’t die! Steve, what have you done?”

With my upper arm pressed tight against the aching side of my chest, I knelt, placing two fingers on the injured man’s neck. “He’s still breathing. Stay with him while I get bandages.” As fast as the chains would allow—I have to get rid of these irons—I hurried to the cabin and returned with a sheet. While I tore it into long strips to wrap around Aaron’s stomach, Ella pressed a bundle against the still-bleeding wound. Neither of us mentioned it, but we both knew getting shot in the gut meant an almost certain slow and painful death.

I collected the weapons lying in the trampled grass under the trees, then stepped beside Ella and grabbed her shoulder. I was so exhausted that I didn’t know if I could get to my feet again if I knelt. I struggled to find the right words. What do you say in a situation like this? He’ll he be alright? I’m sorry? “It’s over,” I said at last. Speaking it out loud made it real. Overwhelming relief dispelled the previous half-hour’s strain. “Now give me the keys. I must get these chains off and release Pip and George. Then we’ll make your husband more comfortable.”

 

It was a great feeling to leave the stinking buckets, rusty chains, and moth-eaten blankets behind for good, and I didn’t waste a glance back. I would have loved to set a charge and blow up the whole mine, but there were more important things to do.

Rubbing their wrists, my two fellow prisoners followed me out of the mine and down the river. They looked dazed as if they couldn’t understand what had happened. George cast a suspicious glance at Ella, still crouching next to her husband and at the tied-up Steve. The older man lashed out and kicked him in the ribs. “Take this!”

I stepped in before he could lunge again. “Let him be. The law will deal with him. Help me get Aaron to the shack and into a bed, then you can wash up.”

 

While sitting backward on a chair in the cabin’s main room, my forearms folded over the backrest, the woman dabbed the blood from my torso and wrapped sheet stripes around my chest. My mind was already on the following day, which distracted me from the fiery burn of the graze. We’ll use one of the wagons to get into town and take all the horses. When Ella was done, my gaze dropped to my torn, stained shirt on the floor. “Can you find us some clean clothes?”

“There are shirts and pants over there in the chest of drawers.” Ella went to the piece of furniture, followed by me, since I didn’t trust her. She tugged at the jammed drawer and opened it.

“Hey! There’s my wallet and my gun!” Pleased, I reached for both.

“Next door are your bags and suitcases with all your luggage. We only ate the ham.” Ella handed me a bundle of clothes and looked at me with red-rimmed pleading eyes. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Joe, what happens now?”

“First thing in the morning, we’ll drive to Placerville to get a doc for your husband and hand you and Steve over to the sheriff. I guess there’ll be a trial.”

Ella gave me a worried glance. “Me? I don’t want to go to jail!”

“That’s for the court to decide.”

With a sob, she threw herself against my chest and wrapped her arms around my waist. Not willing to be impressed by her dramatic performance, I grabbed her upper arms and moved her away. “Calm down, Ella. Go fix us some grub, will you?”

Pip and George entered the room, stripped to the waist, their upper bodies and hair dripping. “Let’s tie the woman up,” suggested the older man.

I hesitated, not liking the idea. “I don’t think she stands much of a chance against the three of us. One of you can keep an eye on her while the other searches the cabin for weapons.”

“Alright.” The two nodded at me without complaining I had taken the lead.

 

The atmosphere felt uncomfortable and tense as we sat around the table. George and Pip wore fresh, more or less matching clothes, and I was dressed in my spare shirt and pants. That, and a shave, made me feel human again. We ate with knives and forks instead of fingers, sitting on chairs instead of the cold stone floor. Ella avoided looking at us. She kept her head down and never took her gaze off her plate. It was no doubt disturbing to her that the tables were now turned.

Steve, tied to a chair a short distance away, gave us hate-filled glances. My compassion for him and Aaron was limited. The wounded man lay on a cot, moaning from time to time, and a fine sheen of sweat glistened on his skin.

George scooped a spoonful of stew into his mouth and cleared his throat. ” I haven’t thanked you yet, Joe. You did a good job getting us out of here. I’m sorry I lost faith in you in the meantime. I hated you for the favors you got.”

“Yeah, thanks!” Pip repeated, pecking at his food with little appetite. He still had a fever, but a doctor would see him tomorrow. He was young, and I was sure he’d recover with plenty of rest.

I pushed my empty plate away and stood. “Pip and George, you may share the bed by the wall, and I will lock Ella in the room next door. We leave Steve strapped to the chair. I’m going to sleep on the porch.” My mouth twisted into a contented smile at the thought of spending the night outside. Breathing the fresh air and hearing the sounds of animals instead of the snoring and coughing of my mates would be heaven.

“I’m staying with Aaron!” protested Ella while she got up and rushed to her husband’s side.

“All right. George, help me carry him to the bed in the other room. Ella, I’ll lock you both in, and if he gets worse, you holler.”

 

Chapter 5

Aaron was unconscious when I pulled the wagon to a stop before the sheriff’s office in Placerville. Leading the tied-up Steve between us, we entered the building.

The sheriff, an older man with a paunch, looked up from his desk as we walked in. His expression changed from bored to alert. Faster than I would have given him credit for, he had his gun out of its holster, aiming at me. His firm voice pinned me to the spot. “Hold it!”

When I lifted my hands and opened my mouth to explain, the lawman studied my face with narrowed eyes, pointing his gnarled index at my chest. “I’ve seen you on a wanted poster, son. Keep your hands nice and up, and walk slowly into the cell behind you.”

“Hold on, Sheriff, you’re wrong.” George took a step forward.

The gun waved in his direction. “I ain’t wrong. I’m old, but I still got excellent eyes and I remember faces well.”

“Look!” Pip ripped a sheet from the notice board and held it before the sheriff. It was the poster Pa handed out to find me.

The sheriff’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “You’re Joe Cartwright? Your father’s been looking for you for weeks! What happened?”

“It’s a long story. This fella’s one of our kidnappers. The other’s out in the wagon bed. He’s in a bad way. There was also a woman, but she escaped. The men forced us to work in a gold mine a day’s ride east from here, in a canyon with a small stream.”

The sheriff scratched his head, his gray hair standing up in all directions. “Coyote Creek, my guess. The posse didn’t ride that far, but they found a palomino wandering around.”

“White pallor and four white socks? He’s my hired horse! Where is he?”

“In our livery stable.”

The horse is alright.  A smile flitted before I returned to the more essential things. “We need a bath, food, and a doctor for the boy and Aaron. And someone has to take care of the men’s horses. We brought them all.”

“You’re right, Mr. Cartwright. Go and get rooms in the hotel. I take care of the wounded fella. I’ll send you the doctor later. You got money?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning. I need your statement.”

 

The hot bath I ordered was a dream. The pine-scented water sucked the tension out of my muscles and washed the dirt from every crevice and pore. Getting rid of the memories of the past weeks as quickly as the filth wouldn’t work.

My skin was wrinkled, and the water was cool when I climbed out of the copper tub after an hour’s soak. Wrapping the towel around my hips, I sprawled onto the bed, stretching with pleasure.

Someone knocked at the door. Slightly annoyed by the disturbance, I called out, “Yeah! It’s open!” I looked up in surprise when it wasn’t the old man who disposed of the bath water but a stranger in a blue suit.

“Mr. Cartwright? I’m Doctor Hensson.”

I sat up with a sigh, reaching for my pants. “One minute. I have to get dressed.”

The doctor, a stooped old man with kind eyes, got straight down. He put his Gladstone bag on the table and held his hand to me. The laugh lines around his eyes deepened as he registered my half-naked appearance. “That comes in handy. The Sheriff told me to examine you. He needs a medical report for the trial.”

“I’m fine. Pip next door needs you more.”

“I’ve already seen him. With enough rest and good food, the boy will be all right. I see you have an injury. Shot?”

“It was just a graze.”

“Hmm.” The doctor palpated the area around the wound and checked me for fever. “It looks good. No infection. I’ll just put on a light bandage. The scars on your back—I suppose they beat you?”

“Yeah.” I gave him a nod. “Punishments. Surely, you took care of Aaron. How is he?”

“Bullet’s out, but I don’t have much hope. How long were you held captive?”

“About six weeks. Lost track at some point.”

“I assume you were shackled most of the time, like the other two fellas.”

“Yeah, I was.”

After listening to my lungs, the doctor put his stethoscope in his pocket with a satisfied nod. “Everything’s fine. You’re in good shape, young man. Maybe a little thin, but nothing a few good meals wouldn’t cure.”

When Hensson left the room, I suppressed a yawn. My exhausted body longed for rest, but my stomach demanded food with a loud growl. I reached for my shirt. Sleep would have to wait. First, I would meet Pip and George in the hotel restaurant for a steak I had invited them to.

 

George was barely recognizable without his beard. He had gotten a cut on his shaggy hair and a shave at the barbershop. With a good appetite, he dug into his dinner.

The boy was quiet as usual, nodding from time to time. The bath and haircut had done him good, and he had some color on his face. A brown glass bottle sat next to his plate. At my questioning look, he stated: “Remedy from the doc. A spoonful every hour.”

“It’s a shame we didn’t find the gold. We worked hard for it. It’s ours, isn’t it, Pip?” asked George.

The boy nodded.

I knew the older man had searched the whole cabin for the gold but to no avail. Maybe the men had deposited it in a bank.

“What will you do after the trial?” I asked, shoving a piece of meat into my mouth.

George exchanged glances with Pip. “We’ve kind of gotten used to each other, haven’t we kid? We’ve decided to move on together and look for work. No matter what, the main thing is it’s an outdoor job.”

Pip’s gaze rested on George. “I’ve got no kin, so I don’t care where I live.”

“I’m glad for you. If you happen to be in Nevada, come visit me at the Ponderosa.”

Struggling to keep my eyes open, I spent the rest of the meal listening to George’s chatter and plans. My mind was already home. My father would receive my wire tomorrow and immediately set out. I looked forward to seeing him. Knowing Pa, he would cover the distance in two days, demanding everything of Buck and himself. I hoped he would bring Cochise along as I had asked.

++++

A soft knock on my bedroom door woke me from my nap. My heart skipped a beat as I found myself tied to the bedposts! The door swung open and a figure in shapeless clothes and a hat pulled down low entered. With a ‘click,’ she turned the key in the lock and took off her hat. Before the wave of auburn hair could spill over her shoulders, I knew it was Ella. With a seductive smile, she walked toward me, undoing button after button. My body bucked as I fought against my bonds. “Stay away from me!” I yelled, trying to kick her.

“Joseph? It’s me!” The booming familiar voice and the knocking on my hotel room door made me jump upright With a pounding heart, my eyes flitted around the room, my torso drenched in sweat. I was on my bed, wearing only my pants, and I was alone. Heck, just a dream.

“I’m coming!” I rushed to the door and unlocked it. “Pa!” I was startled by the sight of my father. He had dark circles under his eyes, and the weeks of worry had carved deep furrows in his forehead and across his face, but I could see the relief of seeing me healthy and upright glimmer in his eyes. When he pulled me into a tight embrace, I pressed my cheek against his shoulder, catching the familiar scent of bay rum and pipe tobacco.

“Thank God! You’re alive! I had almost given up hope.” Pa studied me, his hands still clutching my upper arms, as if he was afraid of losing me again if he let go. I didn’t have an ounce of fat left on my body, and my arms and chest were more muscular than ever. Pa ran his fingertips over the bandage around my ribs. “You didn’t mention you’d been hurt.  Did a doctor see you?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s only a scratch.”

Pa gasped for air. “And your back—you’ve been whipped!”

I reached for my shirt. “It was just a few lashes. I’m all right. Come on, let’s have a meal, and I’ll fill you in.”

It came in handy that the hotel restaurant still had a lot of seats available. Pa and I sat opposite each other at a corner table, with a big plate of steak, peas, and potatoes in front of us. The meal was rounded off with a bottle of Californian red wine. I took a deep sip to moisten my dry mouth and calm my fluttering nerves, anticipating the questions that would inevitably come. I didn’t want to go through it all again, but I knew Pa would like to know every single detail of my captivity.

By the time I’d nearly finished my story, the plates were empty to the last crumb, and I had drunk more wine than was good for me. Pa didn’t interrupt me but listened with rapt attention, sometimes grimacing as if he could feel my pain when I told him about the chains and the whip.

“The following day, we discovered Ella had escaped. She’d loosened two boards from the cabin wall, slipped out, and took one of the saddle horses.” Man, George had been mad at me. I should have listened to him and tied Ella up.

“So, is it only this Steve who’s on trial?”

“Yeah, the other one, Aaron, will die, said the doc.”

“When is the trial?”

“Tomorrow. Pip, George, and I must testify.”

“Why did the woman untie you in the first place? She took a huge risk, didn’t she?”

Pa would find out what had happened between Ella and me at the court hearing at the latest. I wasn’t going to tell all the explicit stuff tomorrow; just give a rough idea of how the shooting came about. I already had a vivid picture of the judge’s and jury’s faces if I revealed the juicy details. I let out a sigh. “She liked me. I could give her what her husband couldn’t.”

Pa put the napkin aside and leaned forward. “You mean … Joseph, what are you implying?”

The uncomfortable question hovered between us. It wasn’t a subject I wanted to discuss with my father, but he had a right to know—not everything, but why I was sitting here, safe and sound, in front of him. I put down the wine glass. “Yeah, I slept with her. I was trussed up, but I went along.”

“I don’t get it, son. She was one of your kidnappers who mistreated, beat, and exploited you. That’s slavery! And she ran away to save her neck, leaving her dying husband behind!”

“She had a lever—the boy. But Ella wasn’t bad to the core. She gave us food and water. She treated my wounds with ointment and gave Pip my winter jacket when he was ill.”

I was met with a blank stare. “You’re defending her? She took advantage of you!”

“I’m not defending her! I want you to understand—” I fell silent. Maybe I was trying to justify myself. Perhaps I wanted to convince myself that I had no choice. Could I have acted otherwise?

Pa shook his head, put some bills on the table, and got up. “Let’s go to bed. When we get back home, I want Paul to have a good look at you. I think that blow to the head when they captured you messed you up more than you think.”

“Oh, great!” I grumbled, following my father upstairs to our room. I opened the door—and stopped. An envelope lay behind the threshold. Someone had slid it under the door.

“What’s this?” Sensing my tension, Pa stepped beside me.

I ripped open a corner of the cover, and a small golden nugget rolled into my hand. My heart skipped a beat, then began to race. Before reading the note, I knew who it was from. “Ella. She was here.”

We glanced around the room as if we expected to see her hiding in a corner. Pa even looked under the bed, but nobody was there.

“What’s in the note?” Pa took the crumpled paper from my hand and held it to one of the lamps, trying to decipher the hastily scribbled message.

 

Joe,

The gold from the mine is enough to make a good life for me. If you want to join it, send a letter to the Citizen Hotel in Sacramento. Maybe I’ll drop in a few times a year.

Ella

 

“Do you think you’re in danger? What does this woman want from you?” Scowling, Pa handed me the paper back. I realized I’d been staring at the words when he touched my arm and cleared his throat. “Joseph! What do you have in mind?”

“Huh?”

“You’re not seriously considering …” he left the rest of the sentence unspoken in the air.

“What, meeting Ella? No, of course not. I don’t ever want to see her again.”

Not quite convinced, Pa muttered to himself. “We should go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“You go to sleep. I will ask the desk clerk if he knows something. I’m back soon.”

In response to my question, the hotel employee adjusted his glasses and studied me, blinking. “Yes, Mr. Cartwright, some man asked for you. His hat was pulled down low on his face, but now that I think about it, it could have been a woman. The voice would have suited a woman; it was unusually high, and the person was short and wore shapeless clothes. Of course, I couldn’t see the hair, but he—or maybe she—had it tucked under the hat. He asked for your room number. Said he was a friend. I told him you were having dinner, so he asked for some paper. Is there a problem? If he bothered you, I can—”

With a firm voice, I interrupted the gushing stream of words. “No problem. She just left a note.”

The employee scratched his thinning head. A film of sweat shimmered on his forehead and temples. He looked at me for reassurance, plucking at his string tie. “I am terribly sorry, Mr. Cartwright, if this woman has troubled you in our hotel. I promise you—”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” What had I hoped for? That the clerk would know something about Ella’s whereabouts? Indeed not. She was on the run from the law. I would report it to the sheriff tomorrow. He would have to deal with it.

With a sigh, I turned my back and dragged my heavy feet upstairs, suppressing a yawn. In our room, I stripped down to my pants and opened the window wide, hoping for a breeze of cool night air. Ella wouldn’t climb over the façade and slit my throat. Pa’s concern that I was in danger was unfounded.

After turning off the lamp on the bedside table, I slipped into the bed next to Pa, staring at the wooden ceiling, lit only by the moon’s pale glow. There was no point in being annoyed that Ella had escaped because I had made the mistake of not tying her up. Despite the gold, she would spend her life in fear of being caught.

We’d be back in Virginia City in about three days, and things would return to normal. Hoss would pull me into a bear hug and tell me with a twinkle in his eyes he was tired of doing my chores. Adam would pat me on the back and say he was glad I was back safe and sound. Hop Sing would claim I was too thin and try to fatten me with my favorite dishes.

Paul Martin would examine my eyes and prod and probe the back of my head, probably muttering something about trauma. He’d tell me to rest and eat well. Pa would watch me with wary eyes and keep me busy with routine tasks so I wouldn’t have time to brood. Some of these things were annoying, but it showed that my family cared about me.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the soft mattress beneath me, enjoying the fluffy pillow under my head and the fresh air streaming through the window, smelling of summer and hay, not stale urine. There was no rattling of chains as I rolled over on my side; instead, my father’s calm, deep breathing guided me into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

The End

June 2024

 

Tags: SJS

Episodes referenced:

Ponderosa Matador, written by Alex Sharp

Between Heaven and Earth, written by Ed Adamson