The Vicky Series: Book 3: Living A Dream

Chapter 12 part 1

It wasn't regulations but his men were finally at the end of a very long chase and that single sentence charged them with a shot of adrenaline. In a matter of moments they were riding forward firing at the sky. He hoped the raiders would break off their attack of the house to meet the new foe before they were caught in a crossfire.

Some of the men did break off to engage. His men dismounted and took whatever cover they could to continue the fight. Quin was searching the riders but Black Wolf was not among them. Pushing forward he made a wide circle around the house looking for the pelt...what he saw was a dark shape on the hardpan below a window. His heart lurched---it was the wolf pelt and boards...

The window was open...his bedroom window! He jumped from Jonah and ran in a low crouch toward the house. Thankfully the raiders were too busy trying to survive the crossfire to bother with him. At the window he listened. There was the faint sounds of rustling cloth and nothing more. The sight he beheld as he slowly raised his head to peer inside brought his blood to a boil.

Without hesitation he raised his rifle and shot the renegade in the back, squarely between the shoulder blades. He had to tear another board free and raise the window further to squeeze his shoulders through the space. He tossed the rifle through and hurried after it. Grabbing his painted foe by his hair and pant waist he tossed him off from Vicky.

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Vicky let the tears pour freely. She couldn't have stopped them had she wanted to. The room was still dark in the early morning light especially with the window boarded. The air under the fabric was stifling and she struggled to breathe as she continued to wiggle and buck against her attacker. The tears began when the ...when he tore her bloomers free.

Swallowing the bile and her panic she closed her eyes and took a slow deep breath. She would choke to death on her own vomit if she didn't get control of herself. It didn't take a genius to know what came next as she felt his hands paw her tender flesh. Her stomach rolled and she fought the panic and fear. It was only her body...he wouldn't touch her soul. And if she ever got her hands free...

She still felt dizzy and her jaw ached from where he'd struck her. She bit her cheek to keep from screaming. The children must stay safe! He suddenly stilled and she felt his muscles tense against her. At the same instant she registered a rifle shot a close range his dead weight fell forward and forced the breath from her lungs. She twisted and bucked trying to get leverage.

His weight was suddenly lifted. Instantly she flipped her skirts down and gulped the fresh air. Oh God! Too grateful to feel shame at her exposure she swiveled around searching for the face of her survivor.

"Quin!" she gasped.

Her choked gasp sent relief coursing through him. He knelt and pulled her against him. His heart was pounding in his ears as he stroked her hair and whispered that it was okay. She was trembling and it took a moment for him to realize she was sobbing. Not the hysterical sobs of mania but the heart wrenching sobs of sorrow and pain.

He leaned back to check her. Her neat braid was pulled loose and her hair was snarled from the struggle. Bruises already showed on her face and arms. Her lip was swollen and blood trickled from a large cut. The dress was rumpled and torn in several places and he saw pieces of her underskirts and bloomers where they were tossed aside.

His heart sank. He hadn't waited to see if he'd been too late. It didn't matter to him but Vicky was...he prayed that her strong spirit was not broken as badly as her body appeared to be battered. She had to be okay...her...as if from a far-away world the sound of the children's cries reached him on a conscious level. Vicky was going into shock.