Ryne

Ryne sat atop the small hill and under a tree, the start of the steep bank, watching her little brothers play in the creek. It was low right now and her pa had said they could if she watched them. They nagged her until she agreed, but she brought a bag of mending with her. Since her mother had passed ten months back, all of Ryne's plans had changed. She put off moving to Ames, put off letting Billy Parsons call on her and so many other things she had planned on doing once she was out of school. She was coming up on nineteen in a couple months, her friends all married and some with babes already. Not her. She was still at home with her father, taking care of her little brothers.

At first she hadn't minded, her father was sad and mourning, but now she felt like he expected her to cancel her life and just stay. Keep the house and be a mother to the boys. All seven of them. She didn't want to do that, not at all. She wanted her own life with her own family.

She glanced back down the dirt road from her spot against the tree, looking to see if her Pa was outside now. He was, she saw, and there was a wagon in front of the house. She watched curiously as her pa talked to the lone man in the seat of the wagon a moment, then hand him something. The man looked at it, then seemed to motion at it and hand it back. Her pa looked at it and shook his head without taking it. The man nodded, tipped his hat and flipped his reins.

Her pa turned and went right back into the house, not even looking in their direction. She looked back at the boys, yelling and playing, then back down to her mending. After a moment, when the wagon was closer, she looked up at the man driving.

He was watching the road, but when she looked up, he looked at her curiously. He wasn't as old as she had first thought, he had maybe ten years on her if that. Still, he had a sad, worn look about him. Defeated.

He looked down at the creek as he approached the bridge, watching her brothers. He reigned in, watching them. He looked back at the house, then back at her. He seemed to come to some decision as he looked back at the boys and climbed down from the wagon, still watching them.

"You need somethin' sir?" she asked politely as he moved to the bank next to her, still watching her brothers. "My pa send you to say somethin'? He need us to come back?"

He didn't answer, just took a step back, bent down to her and jerked her off the ground as he put a hand over her mouth.

Ryne was shocked to stillness for a moment, unable to figure what was happening, but when she saw him hurrying to his wagon, she started kicking and screaming and fighting.

"Hey!" Ronald yelled. "Let her go!"

"PA! PA!" Ralphie screamed.

She heard them but couldn't see them as the man grabbed the reins and snapped them, taking off at a run. He held her across his lap, letting go of her mouth to pin her hands in the small of her back as he ran the wagon wildly.

"Let me GO! Please! Let me down! Why are you doing this? Let me go!" she screamed, still struggling.

He said nothing, just held her in a firm hand as he raced away.

Ryne tried to hold back tears, but she knew it was useless. Her pa had had to put down Copper and they couldn't afford another horse. He'd have to run all the way to the Hanover place to borrow a horse, if they would let him now that he was drunk all the time, then come after her. This man would be long gone with her by the time he even got to the Hanovers. Her best bet was maybe Ronald, though he was only thirteen. He could run it and have a horse back before her pa could get there, but she feared her pa would say no. Ronald couldn't come alone, he was too small to face down a man alone. Her and all of her brothers were, her pa too. Her ma and pa had both been tiny of stature, that was how they had come together. Every one of their kids was just as small, save for Ryne. She was somehow even smaller than her mother.

This man had snatched her up with ease and held her down now with even greater ease. She could only hang over his lap and sob, hoping that someone would see him and stop him, wondering why he was running so hard. Or she could yell for help if they saw someone.

After a long twenty minutes of running full out, he slowed the horses to a trot and sat Ryne up on the bench next to him. He reached in the back of his wagon and pulled out a ball of twine. He unwound a long length, then made a doubled over noose with it, slipping it around her neck and tightening it. He put the other end around his wrist and tugged it tight. If she pulled away even a little, the noose would tighten on her neck and choke her.

"Please, sir, I'm needed back with my family! Them boys, none of them can cook or clean! My pa ain't in a good way, he needs me! They all do! I need to go back, please? If you just let me down I will walk! My ma died and he ain't ready to take on all the boys alone. There's seven of them! Richie, he's only 4!"

The man lifted a hand like he meant to backhand her and she flinched and threw her arms up reflexively. The blow didn't come, but she understood his meaning. She stayed quiet and looked around, hoping to see someone. That was unlikely as far out as they were and he was heading away from the closest town, as if he had just left it.

She turned in the seat several times, hoping to see someone riding up on them. Her father hopefully, or maybe even Old Mr Hanover if Ronald had run to them to ask for help.

After a long and stressful hour, she turned back to the man who was scowling at the road. "Please, sir? Cain't you at least tell me what..."

He drew his hand again and she flinched away and went quiet again. Tears rolled down her cheeks quietly as she watched the road and him. He was tall and had seen work in his life and he also ate plenty. He was a solid man, well muscled. His fringe of beard looked unkempt and like he hadn't had time to shave, not like he was trying to grow it. His brown eyes held all of the sadness he seemed to be carrying. She knew there was anger too, she had seen flashes of it, but mostly he just looked sad and worn. A bit like her father had right after her ma had died.

Maybe he wouldn't mind her talking if she spoke to him a different way. Tried to get to know him and appeal to him a different way. "What's your name?" she asked softly.

He didn't answer or look at her, almost like he hadn't even heard her.

"My name's Ryne. Ma said it's a river somewhere, but she spelt it wrong fore she knew the proper way of it. You live close to here? How much further are we goin'? If I knew..."

He turned a glare on her, scowling down at her and she went quiet as she let out a breath.

After another hour, she spoke again. "You know there ain't much north, right? Not a town for days? See up there, them shadows? Them's the foothills. You thinkin' on headin' to the mountains? I ain't never been so far north as this, but I heard tell the mountains get awful cold, specially in winter. There's places in the Colorado's that stay warmer, but the higher up you go to the mountains, the..."

He yanked hard on the noose, causing it to close around her neck. Not enough to choke her, but enough to get her attention and make her go quiet again. She stared at him wide eyed a moment before she reached up and loosened it slightly. His eyes went to her hands and he watched. She knew he was waiting to see if she tried to take it off, but she didn't dare try. She loosened it and put her hands back in her lap quietly.

He looked back to the road and ignored her again. She felt frustrated and angry, but there was little she could do against a man his size. A blow from him might snap her neck. She just stayed quiet and kept looking behind them until it was too dark to see. When it was too dark to see, she started to wonder if he could somehow see in the dark the way he kept going. She tried to look at him in the moonlight, but she could only see shadows under the brim of his hat.

"Them horse's'll break an ankle or worse. Plus they's probably tired too. And hungry and thirsty. If..."

He jerked on the noose again, this time a little harder. Her hands went to it quickly, pulling it loose as she clenched her teeth shut.

He did listen though, pulling on the reins and easing the wagon to a stop. He said nothing as he grabbed her arm and pulled her down as he got down. He dragged her out to a tree and let her arm go, but kept hold of the rope as he turned his back on her. She knew what he was expecting, but she was panicking.

"Cain't I have a bit more privacy? Where can I go out here, I ain't got no shoes and..."

His hand went to her shoulder and he shoved her to the ground hard. She rolled to her hands and knees, then got up and hiked her dress up to squat there, her face aflame with anger and embarrassment.

When she stood, dropping her skirts and stepping away, he grabbed her arm and forced her to turn away as he pissed against the tree. She stood hugging herself and pretending she couldn't hear him a foot away. He dragged her back to the wagon and set her up on the back and tied off the noose before going to unhitch the horses.

Ryne eased the noose off and slid down off the wagon as he was unhitching and couldn't feel the wagon moving, then tiptoed to the treeline ducked down low. Once she made the treeline, she stayed low, but moved more quickly, hoping she didn't step on a snake or a branch. She kept her arms out and hurried until she found a pine.

This was her trick. Pines had dense branches and they were hard for most people to get into, but she was small and didn't mind getting poked and scraped if it meant she was well hidden. She worked her way into the pine and settled herself in as quietly as she could, then listened.

Sure enough, she could hear his rapid footsteps getting closer. She stayed still and forced herself to breathe shallowly and quietly as he got close enough to touch the tree she was in. He passed it by, but stopped a few feet away, listening. He stood listening for quite a while it seemed and she began feeling anxious. She couldn't see him, she had only heard him and now she heard nothing. Had he slipped on more quietly? Was he standing still and listening? She tried to listen for his breathing, but heard nothing but bugs and frogs. She stayed completely still, her body tense as she tried to listen, but she heard nothing at all.

An hour passed, then two. Her body was aching and she wanted to shift or move, but was still too afraid. Where was he? Why hadn't she heard him come back by?

Her stomach growled loudly and she held her breath, her eyes wide as the sound seemed to fill the silence. If he was close, he had to have heard it, but if he was gone...

A hand shot into the tree and grabbed a fistful of her hair, then yanked her out of her spot as she screamed in fear and pain as the limbs scraped her roughly. He dragged her all the way back to the wagon by her hair, not letting her even stand as she held his wrists and cried and begged him to let her go.

She had no idea how he found his way back to the wagon and horses in the dark, but they shifted and made a nickering noise as if upset for being woken up. He shoved her in the back of the wagon, holding her down as he got in. He immediately started binding her hands together with the rope, then her feet. He tied another rope to her wrists and looped the other end around his wrist before laying on his side next to her. His hand went to her mouth, covering it as he gripped her face tightly, squeezing and shaking roughly.

She whimpered, but stayed quiet otherwise as he let go. She understood. Stay quiet.

He went to sleep and she lay there silently crying.

When morning came and sunlight woke him, she had not slept at all. She was curled up and shivering and her head ached. Her stomach was hollow and she was thirsty, but she was afraid to ask for a drink. Hunger she was used to.

He got up and fed the horses quickly before getting into one of the sacks and pulling out a hunk of stale bread and shoving it at her. He also shoved a skin of water at her and she managed to sit up and take a drink with bound hands. He ate quickly before going to the treeline again, then came back and hitched the wagon.

He still had yet to speak to her and she wondered if he couldn't speak.

He stepped up to the seat and snapped the reins, starting them on their way with her still tied in the back. She untied her feet quietly, then her wrists, though that was harder to do. Her circulation was almost cut off and her fingers were fumbly. She still managed it, then climbed up front with him. He didn't look at her or say anything.

She wondered about him as she sat there quietly. He hadn't laid a hand on her like she had thought he might, and he hadn't hit her yet though he had threatened. He had hurt her dragging her around, but not in a way that would actually cause her real harm. What did he want with her? Had her father made some deal with him? Sent her off? They had talked, she had seen it. No, she couldn't imagine her father doing that. He wanted her close, he would have no one else to take care of the boys.

She glanced at him again and again throughout the morning, but he stared ahead, scowling and never looking at her once.

Finally, that evening, a town came into view among the foothills and she sat up excitedly. This might be her chance! There would be people!

Just outside of town, he reined in and turned to her, taking her face in his massive hand. His fingers dug into her jaw almost painfully as he shook a finger in her face, then tapped her lips with it. She nodded, wide eyed.

He let her face go and started into the town, but put his huge hand on the back of her neck and gripped tightly enough to make her hunch. He could break her neck with ease.

She stayed quiet as they rolled into the small, sleepy town. He pulled in front of the general store and got out, pulling her with him as he went inside, which surprised her. She had thought he might leave her in the wagon.

"Cal! Good to see you back! You make the delivery ok?" the shopkeeper smiled at the man.

The man, Cal?, gave the shopkeeper a nod.

"Those cards I wrote out work for you alright?"

'Cal' gave another single nod.

"Who's this then? Another delivery?"

Cal shook his head slightly and waved a dismissive hand at her, moving in front of her to cut off the shopkeeper's line of sight.

"Alright then, what do you need? As promised, a line of store credit for fifty whole dollars for that delivery. Jilly and the kids get on ok? The man seem nice?"

Cal gave another nod as he moved to point at things and put things on the counter. Basics. Beans, salt, flour.

The shopkeeper looked at Ryne again. "What's your name then, sweetheart?" he asked almost condescendingly.

"Ryne," she answered softly, looking at 'Cal' warily.

"And where did our Callum find you?"

Cal quickly put a hand on her shoulder and led her to the small fabric display, pointing.

"Near Florence," she answered as Cal's hand squeezed almost painfully. "Am I to choose one?" she asked him.

He gave an angry nod, his face red as he looked down at her.

"I have no sewing kit, so fabric would do me little good without one. Do you have one?"

He waved her off impatiently and gestured at the shopkeeper.

"I have sewing kits," the shopkeeper told her with a smile.

"Which of these is the least expensive?" she asked him.

"The brown one with the red pinstripes. Fonda ordered it then never came in for it after and I can't seem to get rid of it. Give you a deal the more you get."

Callum held up three fingers and the shopkeeper nodded, then went to cut the fabric. Callum pulled her away and went back to stacking necessities on the counter.

The shopkeeper came back around and gave her a smile before opening a jar and holding a piece of candy out to her. She felt herself blushing as she shook her head, upset that he assumed she was a child. "It's alright, it's free," he told her, still condescending to her.

"No thank you, sweets make me queasy."

"Oh, well that's a real shame!" he laughed, popping the candy into his own mouth.

Callum handed her the fabric and sewing tin as the shopkeeper began totalling things up, holding her arm. He led her back outside, toting a bag and pulling her. He set her up in the seat and glared at her, shaking a finger before going back in to bring out the rest of his things.

Ryne didn't move, but she looked around and wondered where people were. Where the sheriff was in this place. If she could get to him, shout out to him? They seemed to know Callum in this place, it was his home. Would they care that he had just taken her? Maybe she should try and appeal to the shopkeeper, though she felt that might be fruitless. He couldn't see her past her height and he would think her a child making up stories. No one believed kids and most men hardly listened to women anyway.

No one appeared as she waited, even when they pulled away and rode through the rest of the town. She wondered how far out he lived and if they would get there before morning. She didn't have to wonder long, in an hour he turned off the trail onto a lesser trail among the trees. Fifteen short minutes later, he was reigning in in front of a cabin.

She looked it over skeptically in the dwindling light, along with the barn and animals in the paddock. He pulled her down and inside, pushing her into the house before going back out to start unloading the wagon.

She looked around, then went to the windows and opened the shutters to get more light. She was knelt in front of the fireplace when he came back in and he jerked her back and shook a finger in her face as he shook his head angrily.

"If I'm to boil water to clean this mess in here, I need a fire! And it ain't that warm in here that a fire would make it unbearable anyway!"

He tapped her lips, still scowling, then shook his head again, pushing her back. He turned and knelt, building a fire and then hanging a pot on the arm before grabbing a pail and going out to fill it with water.

He hadn't cared about a fire, just her building one. Perhaps he thought she was an idiot.

He carried in the rest of the things and began putting them away, scowling at the lamps she had lit with a twig from the fireplace. She scowled right back. "I know what I'm doing! I've built more fires and..." she began loudly.

He stepped close, raising a hand and she flinched away, ducking back.

She sighed and turned away, then slipped outside to where she had seen the woodpile. He pulled her back before she made it and shook a finger at her again before picking up a stack of wood and carrying it in.

She was at a loss. Why had he stolen her away if it wasn't to wait on him hand and foot and do everything for him?

She went back in and picked up some of the wood to put in the stove, but he shook his head and pointed at the window. It was too late to start cooking. Instead, he handed her more hard, stale bread and she chewed on it while she put things away. That he let her do, watching her warily and making sure she didn't lift anything heavy or try and do anything else. He let her wash the dirty dishes piled on the counter and clean the table, watching her the whole time with a scowl.

When she finished, he stood and pulled her to the heavy chair by the fireplace and forced her down to the floor.

Was this when he would try and force things on her, she wondered, shivering. No. He wrapped a heavy chain around her neck and secured it with a bolt he tightened until his heavily muscled arms shook. He secured the other end to the heavy chair, above the joint where she couldn't free it. After, he pushed her head down to the floor, forcing her to lay down before he left, going to the back room.

She tugged on the chain and tried to undo the bolt, but there was no give and the chair was heavier than she was. All she could do was lay there on the floor and try to sleep. This time, it came more easily since she hadn't slept.