Lakota Moon Rising by Constance Gillam

Author:Constance Gillam
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical romance, african american historical romance, Native american romance
Publisher: Constance Gillam
Published: 2015-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“Well, lookee here. She’s back from the dead.”

Julia had been attempting to open her eyes, but at the sound of that voice, she stopped. Frozen in fear, she lay on cold, wet ground and held her breath. Lord, no. It can’t be.

“Don’t play like you don’t hear me, girly.” Jack Murphy’s voice was close to her face, breath smelling like something had curled up and died in his mouth. “I’ve been chasing your black ass all over this country for the last four months. ’Magine my surprise when you came floating down that river. Right into my arms.” His laughter sounded like the bray of a jackass.

How had he found her? And where was Horseman? He was supposed to be behind her. She remembered gasping for air after struggling up from the bottom of the river and then nothing.

“Wake up, bitch.” The overseer kicked her in the gut.

Fire lashed through her body, scorching everywhere it touched. She wretched, bringing up river water.

Through a haze of white-hot pain, she heard another voice, one she didn’t recognize.

“Need to get going. That red savage has to be around somewhere.”

Horseman. They knew about Horseman. Had they been following her? For how long?

She pushed through the pain, forcing her eyes open. She couldn’t wait on Horseman to save her. What if he didn’t come?

They were not far from the river. She could hear its roar, and the wind brought the smell of wet earth and dead fish. They were in a clearing but surrounded by woods. The ash from a fire twirled in the wind. Movement sounded behind her but she was too tired and in too much pain to turn around.

The overseer mounted his horse, a reddish brown animal. “Hand her up.”

Hands locked around her body and lifted her into Jack Murphy’s waiting arms. The overseer flashed a tobacco-stained smile as he tied her wrists together. “Thought you could run from me, huh?” He tightened the rope until it bite into her flesh. “Well, ain’t no way I coulda gone back to the plantation without you—and not with high and mighty Vincent dead.”

Visions of Vincent’s bloody scalp flashed behind her closed lids. She shuddered.

“Yes, siree. Mistress Donnelly is gonna love me now. I done brought back her prize gal.” He said the words like he could easily have switched mule for gal.

He pushed her face down so she hung hogtied, her nose mashed into the horse’s side. She turned her head so she could breathe more than the hay smell coming off the animal.

Murphy’s meaty fingers stroked her backside. “Always thought you were a fine piece.”

Blackness filled Julia’s mind. He was taking her back to the plantation. No freedom for her. After they beat her, Mistress Donnelly would bury her so far in the cane field she’d never see daylight again. If she didn’t sell her. Tears leaked from Julia’s eyes. She’d come so far.

The slow steady sway and clop of the horse hooves made her head throb. Closing her eyes made the dizziness worse.

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