The Trapper’s Last Hunt (Preview)

Chapter One

“I should have listened.”

The words reached Zadie’s ears before she opened her eyes. They were accompanied by a dull ache that throbbed near the back of her skull, and at first, she wondered if she was dreaming.

“We all should have, but how were we to know?”

A second person responded to the first, and that time, Zadie recognized the voice. It belonged to Constance, another of the women who worked with Zadie at the saloon.

Constance was only two years older than Zadie. She’d turned twenty-seven just last month, while Zadie would celebrate her own birthday the following month, should they survive their ordeal.

Despite being so close in age, however, Constance appeared much older. Her hair was already showing streaks of gray amidst its dark chestnut waves, and her face bore several deep wrinkles. She was a slender woman, almost bony in appearance—something that also made Zadie think her older than her twenty-seven years.

“Does it even matter now?” Constance continued. “Look around! Nothing matters now.”

Zadie groaned, which caught the attention of the other two women.

“She’s waking up!”

“For goodness’ sake, don’t let her hit her head!”

“Poor thing.”

“Zadie, Zadie! Can you hear me?”

“The poor child, give her some room!”

Women’s voices filled the air around her, and Zadie forced herself to open her eyes. The sunlight burned her vision as soon as she did, and she groaned again. The women about her fussed over her once more, and Zadie tried to hold up her hand to quiet them.

It was then she realized she was bound.

“What… what’s going on?” she finally managed. “Who are you? Where are we?”

As the initial sear from the sun faded, Zadie found she was better able to keep her eyes open and take in the sight that greeted her, though it left her even more confused.

“Don’t you remember?” Constance asked. “You tried to run when those men came into the saloon. One of them hit you on the back of your head with his gun; it was terrible!”

As Constance explained, the memory of the night before came creeping back into her mind. She looked around the small circle of women who peered down at her and struggled to a sitting position.

She was among a group of nine or ten. In her confusion, she didn’t take the time to count them carefully. Constance and Melody were the only two faces she recognized, with the rest of the group as strange as the situation itself.

Melody was a young girl, only sixteen. She’d run away from home back in New York state two years before, and she claimed to have hitched a ride on a train all the way to Wyoming territory. It was there she said she met a man who convinced her to move with him to Colorado, only to learn once they arrived that he had a family he’d not told her about.

He’d offered her a job working as a maid, but Melody had fallen in love with him during their journey, so learning of his family had left her devastated. She’d often claimed she’d left that man behind and found a job working at the same saloon as Zadie, though Zadie wasn’t sure how much of that story she truly believed.

All she truly knew about Melody was that the girl had a fiery temper, with eyes so dark they appeared almost black when she was angry.

The other women in the group were of various ages, with some who looked to be in their forties or fifties, and a couple others who looked as young as Melody. Zadie didn’t have much time to study any of them individually. Her mind was still spinning as she tried to figure out what was going on.

They were all sitting in the back of a wagon that was currently parked. It didn’t take but a moment for Zadie to see that there were three other wagons, one of which contained another group of women about the same size as her own group.

A short distance away was a group of men. They had several fires started and scattered about what appeared to be a small camp. The wagons had teams hitched to them, however, which Zadie immediately took to mean that they hadn’t been stopped for long, nor did they seem to intend to stay in the area.

“Who are they?” She nodded toward the men, then she held up her hands. “And why are we tied up?”

“Zadie!” Constance hissed. “Remember? Last night! Oh, I’m scared she’s been really hurt. What’s it called when you get hit in the head and you can’t remember things?”

“I don’t know,” one of the women Zadie didn’t know replied. “But even if that’s the case, it doesn’t always last for long. She might just need a moment to gather herself, and since you seem to know her, you might be able to help with that.”

The girl spoke to Constance, but Zadie saw Constance bristle even before the girl had finished speaking. Constance never enjoyed being told what to do, and she really hated it when she was worried about something and no one else seemed to agree with her concern. Zadie felt comforted that she remembered that detail about her friend, though she was still struggling to piece together what had actually happened.

“I don’t remember everything,” Zadie said, “I remember last night we had just started serving dinner at the saloon when those men came in. Then someone said something about a gun, and there was panic.”

“Yes, yes,” Constance said, nodding along with Zadie as she spoke. “And Mr. Thomas told us to run or hide where we could, so that’s what we did. I didn’t see everything that happened, I was so scared myself. The next thing I knew, we were herded into this wagon like sheep, and one of the men came out of the saloon with you thrown over his shoulder like an old rug.”

Constance shuddered at her recollection. “I didn’t know if you were dead or alive, Zadie. He put you in the back of the wagon with the rest of us, then climbed up in and tied up your hands.”

“The brute,” Melody finally chimed in. “I asked if you were dead, and all he said was that he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to leave you untied in case you weren’t.”

“The monster.”

“The animal.”

“The brute!” Constance said, adding to what the other women were saying as she repeated Melody’s words. “I was nearly beside myself with fright anyway, and when he said he didn’t know if you were dead, I almost fainted outright. The thought of you being gone and them just throwing you in here like you were nothing, it was horrible!”

“It still is horrible,” Melody cut in. “Just because she’s alive doesn’t make this less horrible, Constance.”

“You know what I mean.” Constance rolled her eyes, though she quickly turned her attention back to Zadie. “Are you alright? You must be even more frightened than the rest of us, waking up in the middle of all this with your hands tied and your head hurting.”

“I do have quite a headache,” Zadie admitted. She tried reaching to massage the ache but was quickly reminded that her hands were tied.

“What do you remember?”

An older woman Zadie didn’t know spoke. She must have seen the confusion in Zadie’s face as she quickly gave Zadie a kind smile.

“I’m sorry, how rude of me,” she said. “My name is Janice Marie. I know you’re frightened, child, we all are. I’m hoping to figure out what it is these men want with us, but there’s so much confusion, I’m not sure any of us truly know.”

“We have our speculations,” Melody said in an ominous tone.

“We don’t know anything for certain,” Constance interjected, but before she had the chance to continue, Janice Marie spoke to Zadie once more.

“What do you remember from last night?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Zadie said, struggling to find a comfortable seat. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious, but with how stiff and sore her body was, she figured it must have been for some time. Only bouncing around in the bottom of that wagon for hours would have left her with such aches in all her joints.

“It was just about dinnertime,” she said. “Mr. Thomas, the man who owns our saloon, had just given us all the announcement that it was time to focus on the evening and entertaining our guests. The saloon was busier than it normally is on a Thursday, and then three men came in who just didn’t seem like the rest of the people in the saloon.”

“What do you mean?” Janice Marie asked. “Different from the others how?”

“I don’t know.” Zadie sighed. “They seemed to me like they were bounty hunters of some kind, or maybe they were marshals. They seemed like they were looking for someone. I wasn’t out in the main room when everything happened, so I don’t know.”

“I was,” Constance said. “One of those men stood from the table of cards he was playing with some other men, and he took out his gun. He said something about how the war might be over, but no one was going to tell him what he could and couldn’t do. I don’t know, I thought he was drunk.”

“He was,” Melody said. “And after he stood there saying all these things about how he didn’t care what the government said, some other men started to tell him to shut up and sit down. That’s when he shot the rope that held up the chandelier, and it came crashing down.”

“That must have been what I heard when I was in the kitchen,” Zadie said. “I heard the crash, and that’s when I came back up front to see what was happening. It was chaos. Those men were fighting anyone who got in their way, and they were trying to kidnap us.”

“And Mr. Thomas said for us to run away or hide,” Melody said.

“I didn’t stop to think about anything,” Zadie told the group. “I just heard that we were supposed to run, and that’s what I did. One of those men saw me going up the stairs, and he came after me. When he caught me, I tried to fight him off—I’m pretty sure I even bit him.”

“That must be why he’s got that wrap on his arm,” Melody said with a nod toward one of the men who was around the fire. Zadie followed her gaze, recognizing the man as the one who had chased her.

“That’s him,” she confirmed with a nod. “He grabbed me, and I bit him. That’s the last thing I remember. He must have had his gun in his other hand and brought it down on my head or something. I honestly don’t even remember him hitting me. I just remember fighting him, and the next thing I know, I’m here with you.”

“I don’t know what good it does to talk about it, anyway.” Constance clicked her tongue as she spoke. “What does it matter what we remember? It doesn’t change where we are now.”

“I’m trying to give you some peace of mind,” Janice Marie said in a tone that made Zadie think this wasn’t the first time she’d said so. “I don’t think these men kidnapped us for personal reasons. I think they’re slave traders.”

“Slave traders!”

The words flew out of Zadie’s mouth before she even had a chance to think. She didn’t mean to speak so loudly, and the rest of the women in the group quickly silenced her.

“Keep your voice down.” Melody leaned toward Zadie as the other women in the wagon hushed and reprimanded her for her exclamation. “We get in trouble for talking, so we try to keep from drawing attention.”

They all glanced toward the men around the fire, though it seemed none of them were too worried about what the women were doing. The two who looked over when Zadie spoke up went back to whatever they had been doing, leaving the group to themselves.

“What do you mean, slave traders?” Zadie asked, her voice hushed as she directed the question to Janice Marie. “How do you know?”

“I don’t think it’s possible,” Constance said. “The slaves were freed in the war. How can anyone still be going around and taking slaves like that?”

“Not to mention we’re white,” Melody chimed in. “Who’s going to buy us?”

“A lot of people, actually,” Janice Marie stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve all said yourselves that these men were proud to say they weren’t going to do what the government wants. If the government is the thing that ended slavery, then of course they would say such things.”

“And act accordingly.” A woman whose name Zadie didn’t know spoke up. “There’s still a lot of people out there who are willing to own slaves. Even plenty of saloons out there will purchase women for their business, and what choice do you have?”

“How can they do that if slavery is illegal?” Zadie asked, her voice shaking.

She didn’t know how to process the information she was being told. She’d not experienced much in regard to slavery in her young life. She knew it was far more prevalent in the eastern side of the country than what she’d seen out in the West, as most of the slave owners were people who had a lot of money.

The thought of becoming a slave herself was both foreign and terrifying. She worked for a saloon, but she did it for her weekly pay. She’d been employed as a singer as well as a dancer for the past six years, bringing in enough money to support herself and her grandmother.

With her medium-height, athletic build; long, thick red hair; and eyes as deep blue as the summer sky, Zadie had quickly become one of the most popular entertainers in the saloon. Mr. Thomas claimed men came from miles around just for the chance to hear her sing, and when she danced, he said she looked like an angel.

Still, the praise wasn’t enough to make Zadie want to do the work. She’d never wanted to grow up to become a saloon girl, even if she didn’t have to do anything but sing and dance. Every now and then she’d serve the men who came through the dining room, but that was a job mostly reserved for the younger women.

Mr. Thomas asked her to flirt with men from time to time, but he never asked her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable doing, as he didn’t want to lose her. She’d been bold enough to tell him before she wasn’t going to do something she didn’t like, and she’d find a new job if he tried to force her.

He’d never crossed that line, so she’d never had reason to leave the saloon. The thought of being sold to another saloon, however, was terrifying. Many saloons out there required their women to sleep with the men who visited, and she simply couldn’t do it.

She wouldn’t.

Zadie wouldn’t even be a saloon girl in the first place if it wasn’t for taking care of her grandmother. Both her parents had passed when she was only months old, and her grandparents had stepped in to raise her. She was grateful to both of them for their sacrifice, and she always had hoped she could do something to show her appreciation to them when she was old enough.

However, her grandfather had passed away some years before, which was what prompted her to work at the saloon in the first place. The little money her grandparents had saved wasn’t enough to live on for long, especially without any more coming in.

Her grandmother was too old to take on much more work outside the home, but Zadie had by that time grown into a beautiful young woman. She could have learned to sew and worked as a seamstress, or perhaps she might have gotten a job working for the local hotel or at the bakery.

But she’d wanted to bring in enough money to make herself and her grandmother comfortable. It was difficult enough for the two women to manage on their own in Colorado, so the easier Zadie could make their lives, the better she felt.

Waking up as she had, her entire reality came crashing down. She didn’t know who would purchase slaves, but it would have to be the sort of saloon that would force its workers to do anything. After all, if the saloon owned the girls, how could they say no?

It wasn’t as though they would be able to walk away from the situation. Or like they would be bringing in any sort of paycheck, either. If that was what happened to her, what would become of her grandmother Hilda?

As if reading her thoughts, Janice Marie spoke up once again.

“It doesn’t matter what’s legal and not legal,” she said. “What matters is whether there’s anyone around to protect people like us. If there’s not, people are going to do what they want to do.”

“That’s not right,” Zadie said. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to sit around and let them take me.”

The group fell silent. Even those who had been talking about other things stopped as they turned their attention back to Zadie.

“What do you mean?” Constance asked. “What can we do?”

Leaning forward, Zadie glanced around, making sure none of the men who had been nearby were able to hear.

“We’ll run.”

Chapter Two

“Are you out of your mind?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“She’s brave, I’ll give her that.”

“She’s going to get us all killed.”

The mixed response came flooding back to her as soon as she’d said the words, but Zadie remained undeterred. She’d had a feeling as she formulated the thought in her mind that there would be women who didn’t agree.

If there was one thing Zadie had seen over and over during her time working for the saloon, it was that fear was crippling. She had met many young men and women who claimed to have dreams of bigger, better things, but almost just as often, those men and women never did anything to make their dreams come true.

They’d have their excuses, of course, but Zadie felt she could see through them.

People didn’t make changes because they were hard to make, and those people were scared of failure. In the same way, she could see the fear on the faces of the women who surrounded her. She didn’t have to even ask to know they would rather stay prisoner to those men than they would risk running for freedom.

“You don’t mean to tell me that you’re all just going to sit and stay here?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “If Janice Marie is right, then we’re going to be sold as slaves. Do you know what that means?”

“Why does it matter?” one of the girls Zadie didn’t know asked. “I worked at a saloon, too. If you ask most of these women—all of them I’ve asked, in fact—we all have come from saloons. What’s the big deal if we’re going to be sold to another?”

“What’s the big deal?” Melody asked, clearly incredulous. “You can’t be serious!”

“What if I am?” the girl shot back.

“You mean to tell me that working for yourself and getting paid to do it is the same to you as being a slave without any hope of getting out of there? You’ll work for free, you won’t have any say in what you do, and you can only hope that you’re not sold again.”

“Sold again?” the girl asked, and Melody snorted.

“You’re all assuming that you’d even be sold to another saloon or even a brothel,” Janice Marie said. “You seem to forget there are a lot of other places you could end up that aren’t either of those.”

“You mean like someone private will buy me?” the girl asked, her eyes growing wide.

“You don’t know who will do what,” Janice Marie said, turning up her nose. “If you resign yourself to this life, you are effectively giving up on everything. You could even be killed if whoever buys you decides you’re an inconvenience.”

“Stop, stop at once!” The girl threw her hands over her ears. “You’re going to give me fits if you keep this up!”

“She’s right, though,” Zadie said as she started to bite at her ties. “If we just sit around and do nothing, then who knows what’s going to happen? If we want a chance of getting out of this, we have to go.”

“But where?” Constance asked, and Zadie paused.

“You don’t know where we are, do you?” she asked.

Constance shook her head, and Melody did the same when Zadie looked at her.

“It was dark, and for most of the night, we were panicked and confused,” Constance said. “When they brought us to the wagon, it was just me and Melody, and maybe three other women.”

“It was me and Beth and Mary,” Janice Marie stated in a cold tone. “They threw a large blanket over us as they rode away from whatever town you were in, and maybe an hour or two later, we stopped and picked up five more.”

“That’s when we were joined by the other two wagons, one of them being filled with more women,” Melody said as she leaned toward Zadie. “I don’t know where any of them came from, but it seems they’re getting the same treatment as the rest of us.”

“Stop biting your ropes,” Constance warned. “We’ve already tried, and if any of those men see you doing that, we’ll all get in trouble.”

“She’s right,” Janice Marie said. “Best not to do that when there’s a chance that we can be seen.”

“Have we been in the same camp since last night?” Zadie asked, annoyed that the others weren’t as desperate to get out of their ropes. Then again, they had been awake for a lot more than she herself had been, and perhaps there was good reason they feared punishment.

“No, we were up this morning, early,” Melody said. “I was so scared you weren’t going to wake up. I don’t know why you were unconscious for so long.”

“Must have been hours,” Zadie commented, and Melody nodded, the concern still on her face.

“You’re awake now and seem fine, so I wouldn’t worry too much,” Constance interjected, and Zadie nodded. Her head still hurt, but she could think and speak clearly, so she must not be too injured.

“They got us up early and loaded us back into the wagons,” Melody explained. “I noticed they seemed to keep us with the same groups we were with last night.”

“I don’t know if there’s reason for it,” Janice Marie said. “However, I did notice the same thing.”

“Reason or not, what matters is that we get out of here before they sell us,” Zadie replied. “And like I said already, the best way I see to do that is to run.”

Another wave of resistance swept through the women, and Zadie couldn’t help but question it.

“Why would you rather sit here than leave?” she demanded. “Don’t you have loved ones? I know I do. I can’t even imagine what my dear grandmother must be going through if she knows I’m kidnapped!”

“They’ll kill us if they catch us,” Constance warned. “They already threatened that, and the man who’s in charge, I don’t doubt he’d make good on his threats if you gave him the chance.”

“Which one is that?”

Zadie tried not to be obvious with the way she looked around, but she did want to know who was allegedly leading the group. It seemed like a big deal to kidnap so many women. Surely others had loved ones who would worry for them.

Any one of them could hire marshals or send their own town’s sheriff after the group, which would put an end to what those men were doing.

It didn’t take long, however, for Zadie to realize the level of fear the women in the group had for the man who was in charge. It seemed to her that the one singular man was the one responsible for who was punished and who wasn’t.

“The one with the long, dark hair and the tattoos,” Constance said in a low voice. She nodded in the direction of a lithe, seedy individual. Zadie took an instant dislike to the man, though she also found herself curious about him.

He wasn’t a large man, while several of the men who were working for him were quite muscular. She wondered how anyone so small could gain power over his much larger counterparts. The only thing that made sense was that he must have money.

“His name’s Levick,” Constance told her as she maintained the same low voice. “He seems to be the one in charge of everyone, though that man over there, and this one over here seems to be specifically in charge of the wagons.”

Constance nodded toward two other men as she spoke, and Zadie immediately followed up with another question.

“How many men are there?”

“Nine, from what I can tell,” Melody responded before Constance could.

“And there’s probably more than twice that of us,” Zadie said. “We outnumber them two to one.”

“Except we have our hands tied and we don’t have guns,” Melody pointed out as she held up her bound wrists. “And even if we weren’t tied up and did have guns, I’ve never so much as shot one in my entire life.”

“I don’t think I could shoot someone,” Constance said with another visible shudder. “I don’t mean to be such a scaredy cat, but I really don’t know if I could.”

The sentiment spread among the other women, and Zadie sighed. She didn’t wish to be rude or unkind to the other captives, but she didn’t understand how they could find themselves in such a dangerous position and not want to fight back.

Of course, she didn’t want to see any of them get hurt, and she knew it would be dangerous to try to fight back. Even if they all knew what they were doing, it didn’t change the fact they would have to try to steal guns before any of them would have a fighting chance against any of those men.

“Then I guess the only option we have left is to run,” Zadie said, hoping her voice sounded more courageous than she felt. “If we can’t fight, then we run.”

She looked around the group, hoping for some reassurance. However, the faces she saw only returned hopelessness and fear. It was obvious she wouldn’t be joined by many, if any of the other women.

“Who’s with me?” she asked, still fighting to keep her voice bold.

“Zadie,” Constance started, but Zadie just shot her a look.

“Where are you going?” Janice Marie asked, and Zadie was struck by how cold the older woman’s voice had become, as though Janice thought it a betrayal that Zadie was running away—with or without them.

“Away from here,” Zadie said simply. “I don’t know exactly where, but I’m not going to sit around and wind up sold off as a slave. If I don’t make it out of here, I’m going to die trying.”

“You know something?” Constance asked. “Zadie’s right.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Melody cried, but Constance ignored her.

“I’m not going to let these men kidnap me from my home and sell me like I’m some animal. I might not be much of a fighter, but I can run.”

“Take me with you?” one of the girls asked. “I can’t just sit by and do nothing.”

“Anyone who wants to come can come,” Zadie said. “I don’t know where I’m going, but I do know it’s away from here.”

“It’s a crazy idea,” Janice Marie told her. “I’m going.”

Zadie smiled despite herself. It was a dangerous situation, and perhaps even hopeless to think that they would be able to get away from those men, but the fact they were going to try filled her with resolve.

She might die running, but at least she’d die a free woman. And just then, her freedom was the only thing that mattered.

Chapter Three

Ever since making up her mind to run from the slave traders, Zadie watched for an opportunity. She took an instant disliking to Levick, and after their first interaction, she sensed the feeling was mutual.

It happened shortly after they’d stopped for a second time. He must have noticed that she’d woken at some point along the trip, as he came over to the wagon as soon as the driver stopped once more.

“Well, well,” Levick said with a coy smile. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to sleep the whole trip.”

“Let us go!” she shot back, and he gave her a look of what appeared to be genuine surprise.

“Go where?”

“You kidnapped us,” she hissed. “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but I do know that we don’t want to be here!”

“For starters,” he replied, “my name’s Levick, and I’m the boss around here.”

She wanted to point out to him that wasn’t what she’d meant, but he kept talking.

“Secondly, you’re not going to be with me for long, so I hope you at least try to enjoy yourself.”

“Enjoy myself?” she asked with a short, barking laugh. “How am I supposed to enjoy myself with what you’ve done?”