It made her realize the severity of her situation even more. Beck was a man without morals and honor and that was dangerous, for there was no telling what he would do. She reminded herself that William was young and strong. He would be on his feet not long after their departure. He would free the others and they would get help, and she would be rescued. It was a reasonable and plausible thought. All she had to do was survive until then.

“We go. You can tend my hand at camp,” Beck said and shouted to his men to hurry and finish.

Willow was made to walk along with a few of the men while others rode. It was a quick pace Beck set for them, berating any who couldn’t keep up. Willow’s legs burned with pain by the time they reached camp hours later. She dropped to the ground, thinking she would never be able to stand again.

“Don’t get yourself comfortable, lass,” Beck said, walking over to her. “We’ll be leaving as soon as you’re done tending to my hand.”

Willow wanted to weep. She didn’t know how she would take another step today.

“Tend my hand well and I’ll let you ride the rest of the way,” Beck offered with a grin.

Willow would have jumped up and hugged the man if her aching legs would have allowed her to, though it wouldn’t have been the wisest thing to do.

“Let’s get this done, lass,” Beck demanded. “I want to get home tonight.”

While she didn’t want to budge, she needed water not only to tend his hand but to quench the dryness in her mouth that no doubt would grow worse with every slow, agonizing step she would take. The small stream they had camped by would serve her well. She just had to get to it.

Beck laughed, realizing her dilemma, yanked her up by the arm, and propelled her toward the stream, depositing her on the bank to sit.

“Quench that thirst of yours, then get to my hand,” he ordered.

He didn’t have to tell her twice. She didn’t even bother to cup the water in her hands. She grabbed her braid that had fallen in disarray and held it back while she bent over and drank until she could drink no more.

Afterwards she got busy on his hand, a hundred questions rushing to her tongue, but keeping silent. She would learn more by watching and listening and, though it was difficult, she did just that.

She worked as gently as she could, the area that was red causing her the most worry. It didn’t look like it had turned putrid yet, but one could not always tell. When she finished cleaning it, she applied some honey from the small pouch, Sage, Ruddock’s new healer, had given her in case it would be needed on her journey home. She had never thought she would be using it on a man who had taken her captive.