Harper pulled the horses to a halt in front of a broken down shack. He tied the two horses to a rotted post and walked through the half opened door. The inside was as he'd left it but covered in dirt. The carcass of something long dead lay in one corner, broken dishes in another. An upended table and several broken chairs stood beside the fireplace, half burnt logs scattered around the hearth. 'Too bad that girl ain't here to clean the place,' he thought wistfully.
He walked back outside and cut the ropes that bound his prisoner. With no care for Scott's wounds he pulled him roughly from the saddle and let him fall to the ground. He cut the ropes binding Scott's hands and feet and stood over him.
Scott slowly became aware of the tingling in his feet and hands as the circulation returned to them. He rubbed his rope-burned wrists and tried to sit up.
"That's right, Lancer, get on your feet and let's get inside," Harper said and pulled Scott roughly to his feet.
Scott staggered as his numbed legs barely held him. He forced himself to put one foot in front of the other as he was shoved towards the shack. After what seemed an eternity to his pain-filled mind he was shoved to the floor beside a fireplace. His hands were once again secured behind his back.
Harper grinned at his captive before going outside. He soon returned with his saddlebags and canteens. Throwing them to the floor he set the table back on wobbly legs and found one chair that would still hold his weight. He opened a canteen and took a long swallow letting the water run down his throat.
Scott licked his parched lips; envious of the water dripping from the other man’s mouth. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd been given anything to drink but knew it was before he'd been whipped. Swallowing hurt his dry, parched, throat and forced an almost inaudible moan from him.
Harper finally pulled the canteen from his mouth and spared a glance at his captive, "Want some?" he laughed.
Scott nodded his head involuntarily. He wanted the drink more than he'd ever wanted anything else in his life. He was surprised as Harper walked towards him, canteen in hand.
Harper held the canteen to Scott and waited for his mouth to open. He lifted the canteen and let the tepid water run down Scott's throat.
Scott's mind wondered why Harper had suddenly decided to give him something he needed. It wasn't long before he realized this was another sick form of torture as Harper kept forcing the water into his mouth. Scott tried to pull away but was hindered by the wall at his back. He choked as the water continued to pour unheeded down his throat. Finally Harper pulled the empty canteen away and Scott coughed until his stomach emptied its entire contents. His body heaved as he tried to catch his breath, all the while listening to a madman's malicious laughter. His head sagged against his chest as darkness tuned out the pain.
Frost led them to the cave where Scott Lancer had been held. He knew Harper had probably abandoned it already but at least it gave them a place to start. As soon as he stopped his horse he saw the two bodies lying on the ground.
Murdoch and Johnny Lancer hurried into the cave but returned moments later after discovering it was empty.
Frost recognized the two men on the ground and walked over to check on them. Both men were sunburned but alive and he began shaking Billy Smith. "Come on, Billy, wake up."
Billy groaned as he returned to consciousness.
As soon as he opened his eyes Johnny pulled him roughly to his feet. "Where's my brother?"
Billy tried to pull away from the hard-faced man standing before him, "What are you talking about?" he asked in a terrified voice.
"Tell me where my brother is! I know he was in that cave but he's not there now."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Billy said as he caught sight of Frost. "You! This is all your fault! Harper would never have left us behind if you hadn't taken off with the girl!" Billy shouted, still struggling against Johnny's vice-like grip.
"Where's Harper taken my brother?"
"How should I know? He didn't exactly tell us before he knocked us out, ya know?"
Frustrated, Johnny pushed the man away from him and watched as he lost his balance and tripped over his brother's body. "Where would he take him Frost?"
"I can think of a few places but none of them are in easy reach. Harper would want to stick around the area so that he could still make the trade for Garrett." Frost explained thoughtfully.
"What does Harper have against Garrett anyway?" Murdoch asked.
"According to Harper, Harlan Garrett was the cause of every bad thing that ever happened to a member of his family.
"I can understand why," Murdoch grumbled, thinking of his own loss to Garrett.
"What you don't understand is that Harper will take his revenge against Scott if he can't get to Garrett," Frost told him.
Johnny touched his gun as he walked towards his horse. "Then we'd better find him fast," he said.
"Can you pick up the trail?" Murdoch asked hopefully.
"I think so," Johnny said as he inspected the ground, bushes and trees in the area.
Murdoch turned from his son and placed his attention on the three men who'd come with them. "Jake, Matt, I want you to deliver these men to Sheriff Crawford. Tell him what's happened and that we've got a lead on Scott."
"Sure, boss," Jake said.
Murdoch watched as Jake and Matt gathered the prisoners. Rob Smith still showed no sign of waking up so Jake placed him face down over his saddle and climbed up behind him. Matt tied Billy Smiths hands and made him ride in front of him. Soon the four men rode away, two to a horse.
"Anything, Johnny," Murdoch asked.
"They went this way," Johnny said thoughtfully.
"You sure?" Burt, the third ranch hand asked before Murdoch had a chance.
"Never doubt my son," Murdoch told Burt as he climbed wearily on his horse. "Let's go," he said with more energy than he felt.
Scott's return to consciousness was not a pleasant one and he wished he could escape back into the pain-free dream world he'd occupied. He bit back a moan and lifted his head carefully. In spite of the warmth from the fire he shivered violently. The smell of beans made his stomach grumble, but not from hunger. Food was the last thing he wanted to think about. He searched the shack for his captor and at last saw him facedown on a dirty mattress by the door.
Closing his eyes, Scott lay back on the floor and tried to ignore the burning sensation in his back. An almost inaudible moan escaped his lips as he strained against his ropes. He glanced towards Harper hoping the man hadn't heard. He was not so lucky.
"I see you decided to wake up. ‘Bout time, I'd say," Harper said as he got up and walked towards Scott.
"What do you want?" Scott asked, his voice quivering weakly.
"Is that any way to speak to the man who holds your life in his hands?" Harper taunted.
"You don't hold my life in your hands," Scott said with more gusto than he felt.
Harper pulled his gun from its holster and placed it to Scott's head. "Don't I?" he asked.
"You may hold the gun and you can kill me any time you want but my life was and is my own. I've lived it to the best of my ability and you can't take that away from me."
Harper's anger grew as he listened to the man on the floor. "I own you!" he said.
"Never!"
Harper drew the trigger back on the gun but stopped short of pulling it. He pulled the gun away from Scott's head and angrily strode out the door.
Scott let his head fall to the floor and breathed a sigh of relief. 'Help me, Johnny,' he thought as his eyes closed in an exhausted sleep.
Harper stood outside the door, one hand over his right ear, the other, still holding the gun over his other ear. His body trembled angrily and he began pointing the gun everywhere firing rapidly. Finally he heard the hammer striking on empty chambers and slid to the ground. "Don't worry, Pa, I'll keep him alive long enough to get Garrett," he screamed madly as darkness fell over the area.
Teresa opened her eyes to bright morning sunlight shining through her window. She felt warm and protected but wondered why her body ached so much. She reached her hand up and touched her forehead. She was surprised to find a small bandage over a particularly painful area.
"Don't touch that, Teresa."
Rough hands touched her gently and Teresa recognized Jelly Hoskins. "What's happened? How did I get here?" she asked confusedly, her eyes searching the room furiously, "Scott! Where's Scott?" she asked as events of the last few days came back to her.
"Easy, girl, easy. You're safe now," Jelly tried to reassure her.
Teresa focused her attention on the older man, "Where's Scott, Jelly?" she asked as tears flowed from her eyes.
"Murdoch and Johnny have gone looking for him. That fella that brought you here is showing them the way to the cave. They'll find him."
"Oh, Jelly, they we... were going to w... whip him. Ha... Harper is so so cr... cruel," she sobbed.
Jelly reached down and wrapped Teresa in his arms. He let her cry until he felt her body relax in sleep and then gently laid her back on her pillow. The dark circles under her eyes, the bandage on her forehead, and the soft hic-upping sounds told him she'd been through hell in the few days she'd been in Harper's hands. His thoughts turned to Scott Lancer, still being held by Harper and his men. "They'll get him back, girl, just wait and see," he said as he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.
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