Wife Hunt

by Bill M

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© Copyright 2024 - Bill M - Used by permission

Storycodes: M+/f; bond; rope; cuffs; outdoors; western; chain; reluct; nc; X

Author's note: I write stories with a bondage slant. If you want to read BDSM sex and torture scenes linked by a little bit of story line, then I am not the author for you. In particular, this story starts slowly, and it is more concerned with plot than with chained women. Be patient. Before it ends the Damsel will be in Distress.

Sheriff Pierre 'Pete' Lebrun joined the dozen or so people standing on the platform of the train station in San Juan, New Mexico Territory, waiting for the arrival of the northbound 'noon' train. It was the middle of July, 1889, and it was hot, even here in the highlands of the northern part of the Territory. Train movements provided most of the 'excitement' during the daytime. There wasn't much else happening. 

That changed when a very pretty young woman riding a bay mare rode up to the livery stable across the street from the station. She was wearing a brown long-sleeved shirt and a white hat over her light-brown hair. Black boots were visible below her calf-length gray split-skirt. The split let her ride astride, and most ranch women dressed this way. 

Her horse was played out, so it was obvious she had ridden far and fast. She took the horse into the livery stable and then crossed the dusty street to the train station and bought a ticket.

Sheriff Lebrun recognized her. She was Jane Jones, the recent bride of Frank Jones, the richest man in the county. The sheriff, along with most of the people in town, disapproved of the marriage because it was such a mismatch. Frank Jones was in his fifties, almost sixty, about three times Jane's age. And everyone knew it wasn't a love match. 

The train pulled into the station, but before Jane could board it three men rode up. Two were just cowhands, but the other was Frank Jones himself. When Jane saw him she screamed and ran up to the sheriff. 

She pleaded, “Please, please, don't let him take me back. He tortures me.” 

This surprised the sheriff. He hadn't heard of any marital trouble, and in a small town gossip travels fast. But Jane hadn't been in town since her marriage, not even for church, so this might be something new. 

He looked closely at Jane but he didn't see any marks. No black eye, no split lip, and if she'd been whipped it didn't affect her movements. Frank might have been hitting Jane where it didn't show, but he couldn't know that.

Frank walked over to Jane and the sheriff, who asked, “What's going on, Frank? Jane said you hurt her and she don't want to go back to your ranch.” 

Frank replied, “I've never hit her, Sheriff. This is just a minor quarrel. My wife wanted to go to Denver to visit her kinfolk. I said now wasn't a good time, maybe next month. She got angry and said she'd go whether I liked it or not. All I want is for us to go back to the ranch now and talk this out.” 

That seemed reasonable to the sheriff, but Jane's agitation increased. She knelt in front of him and begged, “Don't let him have me! I'm begging you!” Jane was crying now, deep shuddering sobs. Tears streamed from her pleading blue eyes.

The sheriff felt sorry for her, but he decided there was nothing he could do. Frank was her husband and he had the final say, and without hard evidence of life-threatening abuse he couldn't come between a husband and his wife.

Frank took hold of Jane's arms, pulled her to her feet, and dragged her over to the horses. He took some thin rope out of his pocket and tied Jane's hands behind her back. She was struggling, but Frank tied her without any difficulty. He lifted her onto a horse and they rode off. 

*** Two weeks later ***

Sheriff Lebrun lounged in front of his office, leaning back in his chair. He sat up abruptly as he noticed a familiar figure riding a lathered horse.

He stood and shouted, “Hey Blake! Come and talk a while.”

Blake replied, “Hello, Pete. I'll do that.” He stopped and dismounted, tying the reins to the hitching post and removing a Winchester rifle from its saddle holster.

Blake was a big man, over six feet tall. He had a full beard, black with streaks of gray. His face was dark-tanned where it wasn't covered by his beard or hat. He was wearing dusty black pants and a dusty and sweat-stained blue shirt. His black boots were scuffed and his black hat was creased. He had obviously been traveling for some time. The Colt .45 in his holster was clean.

The men shook hands. Blake said, “Good to see you, Pete. I'm glad you ain't got yourself killed yet.”

“Same to you. Where you been?”

“I was down south, around Las Cruces. I was after some hombres wanted in El Paso.”

“Did you get 'em?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, but it was hardly worth it. They was just petty outlaws, and the rewards offered were small. I barely cleared a hundred bucks. You got anything here? I need some money.”

Pete chuckled, “I got something just today. Come inside, and I'll show you.”

The men entered the office and Pete rummaged in a drawer in his battered desk. He found two pieces of paper and handed one to Blake. “Look at this. Not something you see every day.” 

The paper was a 'wanted' poster. Blake read the poster, then read it again. “You're right, that's not something you see every day.”


 

WANTED

for Theft

Jane Jones

 

$1000 Reward 

will be paid to anyone who delivers her

 UNHARMED

to the Buzzard City jail

Description

Age 20

Height 5' 4''

Blue eyes

Light brown hair

Purple birthmark on left forearm

 


Blake whistled. “That's a hell of a lot of money. What did this Jane do, clean out the U.S. Mint?”

Pete laughed. “It's a bit more complicated than that. This all started about two weeks ago. I was at the station waiting for the train to arrive when Jane rode up. She bought a train ticket, but before she could board her husband Frank Jones appeared. Jane was scared of him, and she even begged me on her knees to stop him from taking her. It was embarrassing, but I couldn't do nothing ”

Blake agreed. “If she's his wife she has to do what he tells her to, and he has the right to beat her, as long as he don't kill her or bust her up.”

Pete nodded. “Yeah, that's true. Frank dragged her off, tied her up, and threw her on a horse. When they rode off she was crying and screaming. It was hard to watch.”

“If this Frank Jones is such an SOB why'd she marry him?” Blake asked.

“She weren't given much of a choice. It was more like a slave sale than a marriage. Her pa liked to gamble, and he owed a lot of money to some hard men. Frank said he would pay them off in return for marriage to Jane. Her pa begged her to marry Frank and said that he would be killed for sure without the money. Jane, the dutiful daughter, agreed to do it. 

“The irony is that her pa died from a heart attack a week after the marriage. If he'd died a week before it none of this would have happened.”

Blake said, “That's an interesting story, but what's it got to do with the wanted poster and the big reward?”

“About a week ago Jane ran off again, and Frank really wants her back. Nobody knows where she is. She's got kin in Denver, but she couldn't take a train, because after the first time she ran off Frank paid every stationmaster and ticket clerk between Santa Fe and Pueblo to look for her and notify him if they spotted her. He also paid the conductors so they would watch for her if she did get on a train.

“She's probably up in the mountains someplace. Hell, she could be dead by now, but I don't think that's likely. Jane's been taking care of herself since her ma died, six or seven years ago. Her pa was a brakeman on the Santa Fe, so he weren't home much, and when he was he never had any money.”

“But what about the theft charge?” Blake asked.

“Frank told a county judge that Jane had stolen money and a horse from him when she left and he wanted her arrested for theft. The judge issued the warrant, likely in return for a bribe. That was a smart move by Frank. Now any law man, hell, any citizen, has a valid reason to arrest Jane.

“Also, a lot of people feel sorry for Jane. If she's an abused wife fleeing a brutal husband they might not say anything if they saw her, but if she's a criminal on the run from the law they'd be more likely to turn her in.” 

Pete handed another paper to Blake. “Here's a copy of the warrant.”

Blake said, “Yeah, Frank's smart all right. He put up the reward money, didn't he? Is he good for it?”

Pete replied, “Yeah, he did and he is. Frank's got a lot of money. He invested in a mine near Silverton and he struck it rich. He's not cheap, either. He pays his hands more than the going wage, and he pays for what he buys with cash. He likes to show off his wealth, and welching on the reward would be bad for his reputation.”

“Why didn't he say on the wanted poster that he was offering the reward?” Blake asked. “What's this Buzzard City shit all about? And where is it? I never heard of it before.”

Pete replied, “I dunno for sure why he ain't on the poster. Most likely he wants to reinforce the notion that Jane's a fugitive criminal, not a runaway wife. 

“Buzzard City was a boomtown once, but when the Buzzard mine played out most people left. It's not that far from here, and it's easy to find once you know where to turn off the main road. It's at the end of a dead-end road, so it's unlikely you'd go there by chance.

“Now it's almost a ghost town. The only businesses left are a couple of saloons and a general store. But it's useful for Frank. It's the nearest settlement to his ranch house, and it's still legally a town. Frank's the 'mayor' and he hired a 'town marshal', mainly to keep the drunks off the street. And the jail's still usable, so it'd be a handy place to keep Jane until he could get her back to his ranch.”

Pete stood up. “Enough of this chatter. Let's go to my place. Marie will be glad to see you, and it's almost time for dinner.”

* * *

The next morning Pete and Blake were sitting at the breakfast table. Pete asked, “Well, you gonna go after Jane? She's got a big head start.”

“I haven't decided yet. Tell me more about her.” 

Pete replied, “She can take care of herself. She had too, her pa never had a spare nickel. After her ma died she got a job at the Congress Hotel, first in the kitchen, then as a maid. Over time she learned all there was to know about running a hotel. She lived in the hotel so she was always there, ready to handle anything that came up. Brogan, the owner, shit a brick when she quit to get married. She was really the hotel manager, without the title.

”I know a lot about her because she and Marie are friends from church. The argument with her pa happened in the hotel lobby, so everybody in town knows why she married Frank.”

“Is that all she did at the hotel?” Blake asked.

“Yeah, the Congress is respectable. Brogan don't let any whores into the place, and he don't rent to any single women. Anyway, Jane never had a man. A lot of men tried it on with her, but she turned 'em all down. Course, most of 'em were just broke cowboys.”

“Is she used to being in the woods?”

Pete answered, “Yeah, she liked to camp in the mountains if she ever got a few days off. In the fall she'd go hunting, and she'd always come back with a deer or an elk.”

Blake was quiet as he pondered what he should do. Finally he said, “I'm going after her. It's a longshot, but I don't have nothing else to do, and that's a lot of money. Let me see that map.”

Pete spread out the map and Blake bent over it. After a while he spoke. “I figure she'll head for Denver, if she's got kin there. She can't take a train until she's north of Pueblo, and she'll want to stay out of sight, so I figure she'll stay in the mountains. There are several trails she could take, so I'm just gonna to have to take a guess. Of course, if she's used to being in the woods and she's a good hunter she could just camp somewhere and live off the land until the search dies down.” 

Blake sighed, “Like I said, it's a longshot. I figure she'll travel slow and careful, so it's likely she's still in New Mexico. I'm gonna take a train north to the border and then head back down south.” 

Blake shook hands with Pete. “Thanks for the food and the bed. Marie's a fine cook, give her my thanks. If I hustle I can catch the morning train. Wish me luck.”

* * * 

Three weeks later Blake knew he was out of luck. He had detected no sign of Jane. Once he left the road he hadn't seen many other people, just a few cowboys and a prospector, and none of them had seen her either. 

Before he left town he had stocked up on beans, bacon, flour, and coffee, but now he was almost out. If he didn't start back to civilization soon he'd be hungry before he got there.

It was just after dawn. Blake climbed out of his bedroll and stretched. “Oh, well,” he thought. “I knew it was a longshot. Time to go.” He had slept in his clothes and boots, so all he had to do was strap on his gun-belt, pick up his .45 from his bedroll, and put it in his holster.

Blake had made camp about 50 yards from a small stream which was flowing in a shallow ravine. His camp was surrounded by head-high brush and some pine trees so it wasn't visible from a distance. His hobbled horse was grazing about 50 feet from the camp, and he had taken a few steps toward it when he heard a gunshot. It was close, and it came from the direction of the stream.

Blake instinctively ducked, then realized he was completely screened by the brush and trees so the shot couldn't have been aimed at him. He walked in the direction the shot had come from, and when got close to the stream he crawled to the start of the ravine and peered over the edge. 

He didn't see anybody, but there were fresh hoofprints beside the stream and going up the gentle slope on the other side. Blake watched intently for about ten minutes, then he ran down the slope, splashed through the stream, and climbed up the opposite slope. 

Once across, he crouched behind a bush and listened carefully, but there weren't any unusual sounds. Satisfied that no one had seen him, he slowly followed the hoofprints, using the brush and trees as cover.

A hundred yards or so later he came to the edge of a small clearing. About thirty feet away there was a large pine tree with a small deer carcass suspended from a low branch. A woman was using a small knife to dress out the deer. 

The woman's back was toward him. She had light brown hair and she was the right height. Her sleeves were rolled up and Blake could see a dark spot on her left arm. 

He thought “That's Jane all right. Now how do I capture her without anybody getting hurt? This ain't a good place to attempt it.

Jane wasn't carrying a pistol, but a Winchester rifle was leaning against the tree. Blake thought, “Pointing a gun at her is a bad idea. I can't shoot her, and if she calls my bluff she can certainly shoot me. She'll be busy here for a while. I've got time to set up an ambush.”

Blake returned to his campsite and packed up his gear. He collected and saddled his horse, but he didn't mount it. He walked upstream, the direction the hoofprints had come from. He was careful to stay back so he wasn't visible from the stream, but every fifty yards or so he tethered his horse and crept toward it until he could see the other bank. Eventually he found Jane's campsite, which was on the other side of the stream.

It was located where the edge of the ravine receded from the stream, forming a wide sandy area. Some pine trees grew on the shallow slope that formed the side of the ravine and they shaded a lean-to shelter made of thin branches covered by a tarp. There was a stone fire ring and a horizontal drying rack made from small peeled branches. A cast-iron pot was suspended over the fire pit, supported by a tripod made from branches. A pile of firewood was stacked near the fire pit.

Blake went back to his horse and rode upstream a few hundred yards before he crossed the stream. He dismounted and tethered his horse away from the stream and screened from it by brush and trees.

He took handcuffs and a short chain out of a saddlebag. The cuffs were Darby style, but they were adjustable and snapped closed. He had recently bought them in Santa Fe, and this would be the first time he used them. He put the cuffs and the key in a back pocket.

The medium-weight chain was old and rusty. It was about five feet long and had a three-inch iron ring on one end and a two-inch ring on the other end. He put it in his other back pocket, cramming it in so it wouldn't jingle.

Thus equipped, he walked toward Jane's camp. He had a lot of experience with this type of activity, and he made no noise or disturbance as he walked slowly through the brush and trees.

Once he reached Jane's camp he found a place at the top of the bank that gave him a clear view of the entire campsite but was hidden from it by some bushes. He stretched out on the ground, made himself as comfortable as possible, and waited.

After a while Jane rode into the campsite and dismounted. She put a bundle of meat wrapped in the deerskin onto a flat rock near the drying rack. She took the saddle and bridle off of her horse, which started to graze on a patch of grass near the stream.

She carried the saddle to the lean-to shelter and set it on the ground. Blake was happy to see that the rifle was back in the saddle holster. He was surprised when Jane took off her shirt, revealing a white bandeau that covered her breasts.

She went to where she had placed the meat, took a small knife from a sheath on her belt, and commenced cutting the meat into thin strips, which she placed on the drying rack.

“Making jerky,” Blake thought. “She's really skilled. She could live out here until winter. My good luck is back. If she hadn't shot that deer I never would have found her.”

When Jane finished making the jerky she went to the stream and washed the blood off her arms. Her back was to Blake and he knew that now was the time to grab her. He leaped out of his hiding place and ran toward Jane.

Jane heard his footsteps and turned around. She was startled by his presence and glanced at her horse, then turned and dashed for her rifle, but it was too late. Blake tackled her from behind and they sprawled in the sand. Jane was face down with Blake on top of her. 

Jane struggled, but it was hopeless. Blake outweighed her by a hundred pounds and she had left her knife with the meat. Blake was sitting on Jane's butt with his legs outside her hips. He pulled Jane's left arm behind her back and snapped a cuff on it. She resumed struggling, so Blake twisted her arm and she yelped. 

“Put your right hand behind your back,” he commanded. “I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.” 

He reinforced this with another twist of her arm. Jane realized she was caught and let Blake cuff her right wrist. 

Blake examined the cuffs and was pleased to see that the smallest position was perfect. It was tight enough that she couldn't possibly slip her hand out, but it didn't put any pressure on her wrist.

Blake stood up, pulled Jane to her feet, and turned her so they were face-to-face. Jane's bandeau had been dislodged during the struggle and her right breast was bare.

“What's the meaning of this?” she demanded. “Why have you attacked me?”

“I didn't attack you, Jane. I arrested you.”

Jane was dismayed when Blake called her by name, but she hid it and continued her bluff. “My name is Enid Brown, not Jane. And I have committed no crime!”

Blake smiled. “Nice try, Jane.” He took the wanted poster out of his shirt pocket and showed it to her. “You match this description perfectly, especially that mark on your arm.”

Jane didn't try to hide her reaction to the poster. “Wh, wh, where did you get that?” she stammered.

“I got it from the sheriff, but they're posted all over.”

“But it's a lie!” Jane protested. “I didn't steal anything.”

“Don't matter. Your husband said you stole a horse and some money, and he bribed a judge to issue a warrant.”

“But it's my horse! I did take some money, but just enough to pay for supplies and a train ticket. Frank owed me that much.”

Blake shrugged. “Like I said, it don't matter. Once your husband gets you back the warrant will go away.”

Jane blanched. “No, no!” she cried. “I'd rather go to prison than go back to him!”

Jane grabbed the back of her bandeau and pulled it off her left breast. “Don't take me back to Frank,” she begged. “I'll do anything you want. Anything! I'll be your slave for as long as you want if you don't take me back.”

 Blake covered Jane's breasts with the bandeau. “I don't poke any woman who don't want me to poke her, and that includes you. And a thousand dollars will buy me a lot of willing women.”

Blake grabbed Jane's arm and moved toward the lean-to. “Let's talk in the shade.” 

Once there he said, “I'll explain how it's gonna be. I've been a bounty hunter for a long time, and I've worked out some rules that work good. I don't hurt people for the fun of it, and if you follow the rules I won't hurt you. First, you do as I say, and I don't like arguments. Next, you're gonna be cuffed most of the time.”

Jane started to protest, but Blake stopped her with a raised hand. “I know you don't like it, but that's how it's gonna be. I'll take 'em off as often as I can, but if I have to fight you to get the cuffs back on they'll always stay on.

“Finally, if you try to escape or if you attack me all bets are off. I will hurt you, and you'll stay hurting for the rest of the trip. I know the poster says you got to be returned unharmed, but I can hurt you without leaving any marks. Do you understand?”

Jane was appalled. She was the captive of a man who was almost as much of a monster as Frank. She managed to nod her head.

Blake smiled. “Good! Turn around and I'll take the cuffs off so you can put your shirt on.” He used the key to unlock the cuffs. 

Once her hands were free Jane adjusted her bandeau and put on her shirt. “Thank you,” she said, and then she was surprised she said it. 

While Jane was putting her shirt on Blake was attaching the chain to a small pine tree that was next to the end of the lean-to. He wrapped the chain around the trunk, threaded the end with the small ring through the large ring, and pulled the chain until it was tight around the tree.

Blake said, “I'm gonna get my horse. Hold out your hands.” 

Jane obeyed, and Blake snapped a cuff onto her left wrist. He put the small ring around the bow of the other cuff and snapped it shut on her right wrist. Jane was now securely chained to the tree, with about three feet of slack in the chain.

Jane examined the cuffs. Her wrists were held together by about three inches of chain, including a swivel. She tried to slip a cuff over her hand, but she quickly realized that it was impossible. Yet the cuffs didn't pinch or hurt. She could actually hold a cuff so it barely touched her wrist. She was grateful for this, so different from her experiences with Frank.

Jane realized that she didn't know her captor's name. “What do I call you,” she asked.

“Blake's my name, but you can call me sir, if you want.” 

Blake left the camp. He didn't forget to take Jane's rifle with him. When he returned he hobbled his horse and removed the saddle and bridle so it could graze.

Jane was lying face-up on her bedroll, with her cuffed hands above her head. When she heard Blake return she sat up. She asked, “Please sir, can I have some water?” 

She knew Blake had been joking about being called 'sir', but she did it anyway. If she pretended to be subservient, Blake would be more likely to think she was going to obey his rules, and that might cause him to make a mistake that would let her escape.

“Oh, sure. Sorry I didn't think of that before I left.” He got his canteen off his saddle (which he had carefully placed well out of Jane's reach) and filled it from the stream. 

Jane drank deeply. She really was very thirsty. When she finished she returned the canteen. “Thank you, sir.” Blake didn't seem to react to her calling him sir, but he didn't tell her to stop saying it.

Blake said, “I'm ready to eat, but I'm almost out of grub. What've you got?”

“I have some potatoes, beans, and dried squash. I also saved some of the venison. I was going to make a stew for all of today's meals.”

“Sounds good to me. Where's the grub? I'll start cutting it up.”

“I can do that, sir, if you free my left hand. I'll still be chained to the tree.”

“Nope, I don't like the idea of you having a free hand and a knife, 'cause you're a dangerous woman. I'll do the cutting and cooking. You can watch me and tell me if I'm doing it wrong.”

But Blake didn't do it wrong. He had spent years on wilderness trails and he knew how to cook. Both he and Jane enjoyed the meal. Blake uncuffed Jane's left

hand while she was eating. He also sat out of her reach. He didn't want her to grab his pistol.

After the meal Jane was aware of a growing need. “Please sir, I need to answer a call of nature.”

“Huh? Oh, you mean you got to piss. OK, we'll go into the woods. Stand up.”

Jane stood and Blake uncuffed her right wrist, removed the ring that fastened her to the chain, and cuffed her hands behind her back. Jane started to protest, but then she decided to keep silent. Complaining wasn't likely to do any good, and it wouldn't be how an obedient, subservient woman would behave.

They walked a ways in the woods until they found a waist-high bush that Blake felt was suitable. “OK, you can squat behind that. I'll take down your skirt.”

This was one humiliation too many. Jane started to cry. “Please sir, let me do this myself.”

Blake considered the request, and decided there wasn't much risk of Jane escaping. “OK, but remember what I said about trying to escape.” He uncuffed Jane's right wrist and she hurried behind the bush, lowered her skirt and pantaloons, and squatted and emptied her bladder. Her back was toward Blake so she didn't care if he was watching her or not.

Business finished, they returned to the camp and Blake chained Jane to the tree as before. He saddled his horse and said, “I'm gonna do some scouting, I'll be back before dark.”

Jane panicked when she realized that if Blake didn't come back she would die a miserable death. “Please sir,” she begged. “Don't leave me here like this. Take me with you.”

“Nope, I can't scout properly and watch you at the same time. I know why you're scared, but we all have to take our chances out here.” And with that he rode away.

Rage and fear fought for control of Jane's mind, and rage was the winner. “That rotten SOB,” she muttered. “To him I'm just a money pot, not a human being. He can rot in Hell.” Then she whispered, “And after he delivers me to Frank I'll be the one living in Hell.”

Fear, anger, and dread combined were too much for Jane. She collapsed on her bedroll and wept. “How did this all happen so quickly?” she thought. “A few weeks ago I was in charge of my own life, and I was happy. Now I'm chained up like an animal, totally under the control of a brutal man.”

Blake did return just before dark. Jane was so glad to see him that she forgot to utter the curses she had rehearsed. She watched silently as Blake prepared a meal. He brought the food over to her bedroll and freed her left hand so she could feed herself.

Jane said, “Today was hot and dry, so the jerky should be ready. If we leave it out it'll attract coyotes and bears.”

“Right. I'll put it in the bear bag.”

“What are your plans, sir?” Jane asked.

“We'll start back early tomorrow. I reckon it'll take four days plus a bit more to get to Buzzard City. I want to start before dawn, so we'd best turn in now. Do you need to go into the woods?

Jane nodded, so they repeated the procedure. When they got back to camp Blake chained Jane's right wrist to the tree, but left her other hand free.

Blake said, “You've been behaving yourself, so I'll give you some slack tonight.”

“Thank you, sir. Good night.”

* * *

Around midnight Jane had a bad dream. She was back at the ranch, and Frank was tying her up. She pulled on her chained wrist and it all seemed real. She screamed and woke up, terrified.

Blake was at her side in moments. “What's wrong? Did you see or hear something ?”

“No, it was a bad dream. I was back with Frank. I wish I could forget!”

“What did he do to you? Tell me about it. If you face up to it, maybe you can put it behind you.”

Jane thought about Blake's proposal. She had never told anyone about what Frank did to her. Maybe talking it out would help. 

“All right, I'll tell you about my so-called marriage. Frank didn't want a wife, he wanted a woman he could tie up. He had to tie me to the bed before he could get stiff enough to poke me, and even then he couldn't always do it. But that didn't really matter to him. He got enough pleasure out of watching me struggling in his ropes.

“Every evening was 'play time'. He'd tie me and watch me try to escape for three or four hours. Then he'd untie me and we'd go to bed. This was hard enough, but if I'd displeased him I would be punished. He'd strip me and tie me outside, to the corral fence. He would usually leave me there all night and most of the next day. No food, no water, and I had to piss on myself.”

Blake exclaimed, “That's brutal. And he stripped you naked and left you where all of the hands could see you?”

“No, I had an old woolen poncho, and I wore it outside. It was still humiliating to be exhibited like that, even if I wasn't naked. One of the reasons he paid the ranch hands so well was to keep them from talking about all this.

“I longed to escape, but whenever I was out of the house a couple of Frank's most loyal men were watching me. Then I got a break. One morning something happened out on the edge of the ranch and everybody had to be there to deal with it. Frank hogtied me before he left, but he was rushed and left a knot where I could reach it. I managed to free myself and I rode to town. For all the good it did me.

“Frank and his men were right behind me and before I could get on the train he talked the sheriff into letting him have me.”

Blake said, “Well that's what Pete had to do. You were Frank's wife. Pete didn't see any bruises, so he didn't know how bad you were hurt.”

“All you men are the same!” Jane said bitterly. “Slavery's over, but women are still chattel.”

Blake couldn't dispute that. “What happened when he got you back to the ranch?” 

“Frank was furious. He stripped me and tied me to the corral, and he made it hurt. I was on my knees, and my wrists and elbows were tied behind me and pulled way up. More rope all around my body kept me from moving at all.

“After a while the pressure on my knees from the dirt and gravel was agonizing. My hands were numb, but my arms and shoulders hurt terribly. Frank left me like that all day. It was after sunset before he came outside to gloat over my tortured body. I was barely conscious by then.

“I couldn't feel my hands, and they were purple. Frank was alarmed, not because he cared about me, but because he was afraid he'd broken his rope-toy. He untied me and took me into the house. I couldn't move, and I was like that for several days. 

“I eventually recovered enough that Frank felt he could resume my punishment. He tied me up outside, but this time he was careful not to tie my wrists tightly. 

“That was his mistake, the mistake I'd been waiting for. I got myself free about midnight and snuck into the barn. I had hidden my camping outfit and some clothes there, and I loaded everything onto my horse and fled.

“I planned to stay in the mountains for as long as I could. I had hoped that eventually Frank would stop looking for me, but I didn't know I was a wanted criminal and bounty hunters were searching for me.” She glared at Blake, but he couldn't see her face in the dark.

“You had some bad luck, Jane. I decided to capture you for the reward, and getting caught would have happened to anybody I was after.” Blake knew this wasn't quite true, but he said it anyway. Maybe it would make Jane feel better if she thought she was doomed by a fate she couldn't dodge. 

“I hope talking made you feel better. Now get some sleep, we've got a long day tomorrow.”

The next morning Blake was up before dawn. He loaded most of the gear on the horses and then woke up Jane. “Get up, I've cooked some food and we'll be on our way once we've eaten. He rolled up her bedroll. “You can piss right here. We won't use this camp again.”

Blake packed the bedroll and the tarp and returned to Jane. He unchained her from the tree and they ate. Then it was time to hit the trail.

“I have a difficult choice, Jane. If you were one of the desperadoes I usually handle I'd cuff your hands behind your back. But you've been good, so that would be a harsh way to treat you. How should I secure you?

“You could leave the cuffs off. I won't try to escape.”

“I don't think I can trust you that much.” He cuffed her hands in front. The chain was still attached to the right cuff. “This isn't really secure, but it'll have to do.”

He helped her mount, then wrapped the chain several times around the saddle horn and gave her the free end. 

“This is a test, Jane. If you keep the chain in place I'll know you're sincere about not trying to escape.”

Jane nodded, but she thought, “The only thing I'm sincere about is not going back to Frank. If I get a good chance to escape I'll take it.”

They moved out, with Blake in the lead and holding the reins of Jane's horse. Two hours before sunset they stopped and camped. Blake wanted to go farther, but he knew the horses needed time to rest and graze.

This routine continued for several more days. As they traveled they talked, mostly Jane trying to convince Blake to let her go. Blake never agreed to do this because he really wanted the money, but he proposed other alternatives that might help Jane. 

Around noon on the fifth day they stopped in a thick grove of young trees and dismounted. 

Jane asked, “Why are we stopping here?”

“We're not far from Buzzard City. I'm going to scout ahead.” He took the wanted poster out of his pocket. “I want you to write a note to Frank on the back of the poster. Use this bullet as a pencil. Write 'Blake has me' and sign it. Use your best penmanship. The saddle will work as a desk.”

Jane did as he ordered. “What's this note for?”

“It’s proof that I really have you.” He chained her to a tree and gave her a canteen. “I'll be back in a couple of hours.” 

Blake rode into Buzzard City. He entered the jail and found the marshal asleep in a chair. Blake shook him awake. “Hey marshal! I need to see Frank Jones. Where is he?”

“I dunno. At his ranch, maybe.”

“Take me there.”

It was about three miles to the ranch gate and another eighth of a mile to the ranch house. Blake rode into the yard. A cowboy standing on the porch said, “Why are you here, mister? The boss don't like visitors. Git!”

“Find Frank Jones. Tell him I have his wife.”

The cowboy knocked on the door, whispered something to the person who answered it, and resumed glaring at Blake. A few minutes later Frank stepped onto the porch.

Blake asked, “You Frank Jones? I'm Blake. I got your wife. Let's talk.” 

Frank said, “Yeah, let's. Come inside.”

Blake dismounted and gave the reins to the marshal. He entered the house and Frank led him into the ranch office.

Frank asked, “You got any proof you've got Jane?”

Blake gave him the wanted poster. “Look on the back. You recognize her handwriting?”

Frank studied the message. “Yeah, that's her writing. Where is she?”

“Not too far from the jail. Show me the money.”

Frank opened a safe and removed a wooden box. “Take a look. Fifty twenty dollar gold pieces. $1000, cash.”

“Looks good. Take it to the jail. I'll meet you there in a couple of hours.”

Blake rode back to where he had left Jane, watching carefully to be sure he wasn't followed.

Jane asked, “Did you see Frank?”

“Yep. He's got the money. The deal's going down.” He unchained Jane from the tree. He cuffed her hands in front with the chain attached to her cuffed right wrist. He tied the end of his lariat to the big ring at the end of the chain and mounted his horse.

Jane cried, “Wait! Are we leaving my horse here?”

“Yep. That horse is too good to give to Frank.” He kicked his horse and jerked the lariat. Jane stumbled forward as the chain tightened. “Don't worry, Jane. You can keep up. I won't trot too much.” Blake was joking, but Jane didn't think it was funny.

About a half mile from the jail Blake found a good place to conceal Jane and chained her to a tree. “Not long now, Jane. You sure about this?”

Jane nodded. 

Blake rode to the jail. Frank and three of his men were waiting inside.

Frank said, “Took you long enough. Where's Jane?”

“Not far. Let me see the money.”

Frank produced a canvas sack and dumped the coins onto a table. Blake visually counted them, they seemed to be all there. “Close enough,” he said.

Frank put the coins back in the sack. “Quit stalling. Where's Jane?”

“I'll take you to her. The reward poster said to bring her to the jail, but where she is now is close enough. 

“Now I know we're both gentlemen and our word is our bond, but this much money can sometimes get in the way of that. 

“I got no reason to not give you Jane. I don't want her and I couldn't keep her even if I did. Once you got Jane and I got the reward there's no reason for me to shoot you, but you got a thousand reasons to shoot me. 

“So here's what we're going to do. I'll take you to Jane, but you come alone and you don't bring a gun. You won't be cheated, and I won't be dead. Is it a deal?”

Frank scowled. He didn't like the deal, but he couldn't think of any reason to object. “OK, we'll do it your way. Let's get started.”

“You tell your boys to wait here. If we're followed, the deal is off.”

“Fair enough. Stay here, men.” He took off his gunbelt and gave it to one of his men.

The two men mounted and rode down the road. Once they were away from the town Blake said, “We'll go off the road soon. I'll lead, so I want to hold the money. Be a shame if you accidentally dropped it.”

Frank scowled again. That thought had crossed his mind. He handed the moneybag to Blake, who put it in a saddlebag.

A short time later Blake stopped and dismounted. “Almost there. Get off your horse and stay put.” 

Blake walked away, leading his horse. He went into the bushes that concealed Jane and unchained her from the tree. He reattached the chain to the handcuff and led her out of the bushes, holding the end of the chain. Both her wrists were cuffed in front. 

“Here she is, unharmed as promised.”

“Where's her horse?”

“It broke a leg two days ago. Jane's been walking at the end of a rope since then. Didn't hurt her any. You can keep the handcuffs and the chain. I'm going into another line of work and I won't need 'em.” He gave the key to Jane. “Give the key to your husband, Jane. It was nice knowing you.” 

Blake mounted and rode off. He was out of sight before Frank and Jane met.

“Give me the key,” Frank demanded. 

Jane did so. She looked at the ground, not at Frank. She was terrified, but trying hard not to show it.

Frank tied his lariat to the large chain ring and mounted his horse. He kicked it into motion and Jane had to run to keep up.

By the time they reached the ranch house Jane was exhausted and dirty. Frank had set a fast pace. Jane had fallen several times and Frank had dragged her before he let her get back up.

Once at the house Frank took Jane to their bedroom. He put the key in the lock of a handcuff and fumbled with it. Finally he asked, “How does this key work?”

“You screw it all the way into the lock.”

Frank finally got the cuffs off Jane. “Strip. And stay in this room.” He left, taking the cuffs and chain with him.

Soon he was back. He inspected Jane's naked body. It was unmarred. “Did that bastard poke you?” he asked.

“No, he didn't. He said he didn't poke unwilling women.”

“He didn't miss much. You're a cold bitch. Put on the poncho, we're going outside.”

The large ring at the end of the chain had been stapled to one of the logs that made up the corral fence rails. Frank cuffed Jane's hands behind her back. The small chain ring was around the bow of the right cuff, so Jane was chained to the fence.

“These cuffs won't hurt your hands, so you can wear them for a long time. And you will. This is your new home. You'll be living at the end of this chain until winter. Maybe longer.”

Jane was crying, “No, please don't. Please let me go. I'm not a slave, I'm your wife.”

“Same thing,” Frank sneered. He called to the ranch foreman who was watching all of this. “Post a guard out here after it gets dark. That bastard Blake might try to get her. I don't trust him.”

“OK, boss.”

As soon as it was dark the guard arrived. He glanced at Jane, who was lying on her side. Then he sat on the top rail of the fence across the corral from Jane and turned to watch the large field between the corral and the ranch gate. 

Jane waited until the guard had settled down and then struggled until she had moved her hands from the back to the front. The guard hadn't been looking her way and didn't notice. Jane reached into her vulva and found a string. She pulled it and the second key it was attached to came out of her vagina. 

It was difficult, but she was able to screw the key into the lock and release her left hand. Releasing her right hand was easy, and she was finally free of the chain. 

Jane waited until after the guard had glanced in her direction and then back to watching the field before she slipped out of the poncho and arranged it so it appeared that she was still there. Then she crawled away from the corral until she reached some bushes that provided enough cover to let her walk crouched over.

There was enough moonlight to allow Jane to see where she was going, but she couldn't avoid stepping on sharp stones and branches. Her feet were bleeding by the time she reached her destination, which was a large dead tree near the ranch boundary fence. She was about a quarter mile away from the ranch gate.

Blake was waiting for her and he helped her climb through the barbed-wire fence. He had brought clothes and her horse, and as soon as she was dressed they rode to San Juan.

“What do we do now?” Jane asked. “I've escaped from the ranch, but Frank won't give up looking until he finds me, and that wanted poster is still up everywhere.”

“Don't worry, I've got a plan. I'll explain when we get to the sheriff's house. I told Pete everything, and he'll help us. I also bought some useful items.”

Soon they were at the sheriff's house, and Pete and Marie were waiting for them. Marie hugged Jane. “You poor girl,” she said. “What Frank did to you was horrible. I always knew he was an evil man.”

“I'm so glad to see you,” Jane replied. “But I can't stay here. I have to get as far away from Frank as I can before he knows I'm gone.”

'I've got a plan for that,” Blake said. “We'll take the train to Denver. The Midnight Flyer stops here about an hour from now, and it arrives in Denver tomorrow morning.”

“How can I possibly take the train?” Jane exclaimed. “One of the men Frank has paid to watch for me will be sure to see me and he'll telegraph Frank. Frank can wire ahead to the next stop, and lawmen will be waiting for me. That warrant for my arrest may be bogus, but it'll look real enough. They'll take me off the train and put me in jail. Then I'll be Frank's prisoner once more, and he'll make sure I can't escape again.”

“You'll be disguised so nobody will recognize you. Marie, help Jane into the dress and the other items I bought.”

Marie and Jane went into the bedroom. When they returned Jane was wearing a long black dress, black gloves, and a black bonnet with a thick veil. A lock of Marie's black hair had been sewn into the front of the bonnet so it lay across Jane's forehead.

Pete exclaimed, “Wow! You sure look like a young widow, not a fugitive with a price on her head! Nobody will recognize you.”

Blake said, “You say you have kin in Denver. Will they be able to protect you if Frank tracks you down?”

“Yes, my uncle is rich. He's also a friend of the Governor. His lawyer will certainly know how to quash that warrant. He may even be able to get my marriage annulled.”

“Then we're ready to go. Here's your ticket and your valise. I'll go first and scout around the station for Frank or any of his men. You stay by the livery stable until I wave to you. If I don't wave something's gone wrong and we'll go back to Pete's and think of something else.

“If I signal it's safe then get on the train. Sit near the front of the car, and I'll sit near the back. Don't look at me. If anyone bothers you and won't go away I'll take care of 'em. I'll pretend to be a stranger, outraged because someone is bothering a grieving widow.”

There weren't any watchers at the station. The train arrived on time and Jane and Blake boarded it without any problems. When the conductor collected Jane's ticket he didn't give her a second glance.

The next morning they arrived in Denver and got a cab. On the way to Jane's uncle's house Blake asked, “Why didn't your rich uncle help you before, when you were a girl?”

“He wasn't rich then. He was a prospector, living in South Dakota. He was poor until he sold his mining claims a few years ago. Once he had some money he invited me to live with him, but by then I was running the hotel and I didn't want to be dependent on any man, not even a relative.”

“Why didn't he help after you were married?”

“I never tried to tell him I was in trouble. I knew Frank would intercept any letters I wrote, and then he would punish me.”

The cab came to a stop in front of her uncle's mansion. Blake said, “I'll be staying at the Brown Hotel. Contact me if you need anything.”

Jane put her arms around Blake's neck and kissed him. “You saved my life, even if I didn't know it at the time. And now I'm willing.”

The End

14.07.2024

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