“Sure, Lance, whatever you need. I’ll start getting up a herd. But I’ve got to warn you. Miz Truesdale won’t like you calling on her place. She hates anything to do with Comanches, and I mean anything.”
Lance nodded brusquely and asked to be shown some mounts.
When he and Jeb went out back to the corral, Summer stepped outside to the front porch, needing to escape the feeling of being shut in. Hearing about Amelia had rekindled all the pain and helplessness she’d struggled so hard to repress during the past few days.
It was only a moment later that a strange sound disturbed her morbid thoughts.
“Pssst.”
Moving cautiously to the end of the porch, she shielded her eyes from the hot afternoon sun and peered around the side of the building—only to give a start of alarm to see a man’s broad chest. The next moment was a blur. Hard hands grabbed her shoulders and pressed her back against the stone wall with a force that made her gasp. Her heart pounding, she looked up to find Frank’s leering face looming over hers.
“Howdy, girl. We never got a chance to be introduced proper-like, with that Injun buck hanging around your skirts.” The hot gleam of lust in his pale gray eyes made Summer shudder.
Yarby was lounging against the wall, watching with a grin. “Hey, now, Frank, don’t hurt the little lady.”
“She’s no lady, Jimmy.”
“She pretends pretty good. She kept her snooty nose in the air all the way from Round Rock.”
“She’s only an Injun’s squaw, big brother. That right, girl? You his squaw?”
When he tried to take her chin between his fingers, Summer jerked her head away. “I’m his wife.”
Frank grinned at his brother. “A mite touchy, isn’t she?”
Summer drew a shaky breath, trying not to panic. “You’d better…release me at once. Lance will be back any minute.”
Yarby chuckled. “He makes a fuss, we’ll offer him a horse for you. Horses and women are all the same to a Comanche.”
“You just settle down,” Frank said as he gave a tug on her bonnet strings and dragged it from her head, tossing it in the dirt. “We’re gonna have us some fun.”
Real fear filled Summer when his hand reached up to stroke her left breast. She gave a cry, which caused Frank to clamp his hand tightly over her mouth.
Unable to breathe, Summer squirmed, trying to break free, but his lean body pushed against her, pressing her back.
“Easy, girl.” His hand kneaded her breast hurtfully. “You should be grateful to us. After having that stinkin’ buck between your legs, you’re gonna love the taste of a real man.”
Summer whimpered in pain and fury, hating him for what he was doing.
“That’s right, pretty thing. Sing for me. You like me, don’t you? Soon you’re gonna be begging for it.”
Struggling against his touch, against the sweaty hand that was smothering her, she managed to twist her head and open her mouth far enough to sink her teeth in the fleshy part of his palm.
“Ow! Goddammit to hell—You bitch—”
Frank drew back his fist to strike her, but his howl of outrage was drowned out by his brother’s sudden surprised grunt. From the corner of her eye, Summer saw Yarby go sprawling face-first in the dirt. The next second Frank was suddenly pulled off of her and shoved face-first into the stone wall.
She heard the crunch of bone, heard Frank’s sharp cry, even as she drew a rasping breath in an attempt to draw air into her aching lungs. As she stumbled sideways, she realized Lance had come to her rescue. He stood at Frank’s back, one hand twisting a stranglehold on the man’s shirt collar, the other pressing the razor-sharp blade of a knife against the side of his neck.
Frank’s right hand made a desperate half-formed movement toward his holster before Lance’s savage growl in his ear stopped him. “Touch it and you’re a dead man.”
Frank made a choked sound. Blood was spurting from his broken nose, and his mouth had opened wide in a silent shriek of agony.
In relief, Summer sagged against the wall, holding her stomach and gasping for breath, trying not to gag on the sour bile that had risen to her throat.
Lance ran an assessing eye over her. “You okay?”
She forced herself to nod.