Jon Reskind - The abducted wife

God, where was Buck, why wasn't he helping her?

Silas had her pinned down firmly now and his breath deepened as he arched over her – that breath changing and his look of outrage transforming into a leer of obvious lust. She kicked and wiggled her feet, buffeting her torso against his chest. The lush fullness of her brassiere clad breasts popped out from her torn dress and Silas, still pinning her down with her arms to her sides, gazed with bulging eyes at her breasts' soft firmness, and began gyrating his buttocks over the squirming half-naked vee of her crotch. Her dress had hiked up over her loins, and she arched her pinned buttocks to pull it down, but this provocative movement only sent him into a more impassioned fury of lust. God! She could feel it! – the long rough pressage of his monumental cock beneath his trousers lunged against her softly clinging panties like an enormous buttress – and she shuddered outwardly, slinging her small fists into his face as he reached down and began undoing the zipper to his pants.

"Silas, you idiot bastard, get off her!" she heard from a short distance. Then she felt Silas' grip on her arm loosen and watched in lingering chills of horror as he lifted his body off her and faced Josh.

"Sh-she was trying to get away, Josh," Silas said, a sheepish grin on his face. "Gawd, I did good, didn't I?"

In a few moments she was seated in the truck next to Buck. The same man who had promised her freedom had done nothing to preserve it when the moment had come for him to stand up for her, but in some ways she understood it and did not hold it against him. She knew that he must protect himself against Josh if he wanted to keep his job – and if he wanted to preserve his own life.

"Get into that back room and start fixin' us up some grub," Josh commanded as they entered the shack again.

She looked up at the imposing man standing by the door, then clutched the torn material of the front of her dress and trailed obediently behind Silas to the rear of the cabin.

"And don't get no ideas about runnin' away again," she heard Josh roar out from the front room. "Next time ya try it ya'll end up with a load of buckshot in your snooty little ass."

Silas set a bag of groceries on the counter, shoving rows of dirty bottles awkwardly out of the way, and one of them tipped over and crashed on the floor. Jane jumped back, then looked up to find Silas gazing at her with a sly leering expression.

"Now look what you gone and done," he muttered with twinkling eyes.

"You dropped the bottle," Jane stepped back in confusion, wondering for a moment if he were more intelligent than she had estimated and what kind of game he was playing with her.

"Well… that's right," he agreed slowly. Then the lewd look in his eyes reappeared and he gazed back at her with gloating assurance as though he had recalled his original idea. "But you still gotta pick it up. You's the woman."

"Oh, what a bother," Jane hissed to herself under her breath and, reaching irritably for two scraps of yellowed newspaper, bent down to shovel up the broken pieces, conscious of Silas' idiotic gaze following her every move. She bent forward and felt his eyes tracing a hot path of lust down through the creamily lush cleavage of her gently sloping breasts; then she shifted abruptly to the side and felt him slither down the counter, his eyes riveted like a dead man's on the delicately angling curves of her bent legs. Overwhelmed suddenly by righteous indignation, she stood with the half-covered paper and kicked the remaining slivers of golden glass across the floor. For a moment she felt almost justified. Even if she had succumbed to Buck's use of her body, at least, she hadn't sunk to the depths of putting on displays for the likes of Silas, who stepped back in confusion at her angry look.

"T-t-tonight is gonna be real good," he stammered as though in an attempt to compliment her. "I gots so I can't wait." Then he shuffled awkwardly out the back door.

Jane leaned against the counter and held on with trembling hands as his words sunk in. Now she was reminded of the night ahead and what certainly lay in store for her. She looked out the window and saw the tall gangly-armed man turn and bolt the door behind him. Then he crossed the back yard and entered the shack near the woods. She realized that the outbuilding must have been where they distilled the liquor before shipment to town, and the thought came to her that if she could reach that shack she would find a gun – there just had to be one somewhere about, and her certainty of the existence of a weapon in the stone shack was increased by the fact that there was no evidence of a gun in the cabin.

She opened the bag of groceries and set a large ham and some raw vegetables onto the counter. She could hear Buck and Josh arguing about something in the next room, but she couldn't quite follow what they were saying. She hoped Josh hadn't noticed that Buck was aiding her escape out on the road, knowing that as long as Buck wasn't suspect she still might have a chance to make her escape. But the possibility was growing dimmer and dimmer. The ominous fear that her husband might arrive unprotected crossed her mind, and she tried to force the thought away, occupying herself with cutting up the ham and placing it in a skillet on the stove. But there was no way she could push the dreadful idea from her head; she had been gone for three days, and by now a search party must be out in the mountains.

"Where the hell's the food," she heard Josh shout out from the front room. "Hurry up and get with it."

She turned toward the door and saw Buck standing on the threshold, a wan smile passing across his lips. She faced away from him, feeling a sense of humiliation at him seeing her now in this position and knowing that he still held the image of her warmly responding body in his mind. Yes, that was nothing she could take away from him and she couldn't deny that she had finally given herself willingly, but he had to understand why she had done it and that it was all over between them.

"Ya need any help," Buck said softly, moving a few steps into the room. "Josh's getting hungry. He ain't no man to reckon with when he's like that."

He stood slowly scratching the stubble on his face, then leaned back against the wall staring impassively at her. "I thought I'd tell ya that we's waiting on the man from Calder. He'll be coming out for another shipment sometime tomorrow."

Jane still didn't answer. She stared from the stove with a dazed uncomprehending look. The small amount of trust that she had built up for him earlier had been dashed by the arrival of Josh and Silas on the dirt road, and now she was unwilling to rekindle her hopes.

"What in the Lord's name is keepin' ya," Josh's hoarse voice roared out again.

Jane set the food on plates and brought the dinner into the front room, setting the plates onto the table. She was still terribly hungry but she hadn't dared ask for food for fear of calling attention to herself; and now she watched the three men dig into the meal, dispensing with the forks and knives she had placed on their plates and picking up the ham in their fingers.

"What'sa matter, girl," Josh said. "Ya don't like us countryfolks' table manners?"

"It ain't that, Josh," Buck answered for her. "Cain't ya see she's hungry too?"

Josh laughed and shoved another large slick of ham into his mouth. "Ya gave her some vittles this morning, didn't ya Buck? Now, don't go lookin' at me like ya didn't cause I know ya did. That should tide the little 'un over for awhiles, whaddya think, Silas?"

The thin slow-faced man looked up from his food for a moment, then gazed across at Jane who was standing in the doorway to the backroom. "I think – I wanna fuck'er Josh," he grinned, and then lowered his eyes pensively to his food again.