Despite the turmoil going on all around them, Michael could not help feeling compassion for Elyse. Even though he could have wrung her neck for what she had already done, he would never have learned the truth if she hadn't confessed. And how could he condemn and despise her when she loved him so much? "I don't think Elyse has to worry about being a spinster," he said quietly. "A man will come along one day who sees her for the gem she is. As for you, dear cousin, I think it's time you took up residency at the poorhouse." He motioned to one of the servants. "See that she's packed and out of the house within the hour. Have a carriage take her to Atlanta tonight and leave her at a hotel. I never want to see her again."
Hearing her sentence, Verena screamed and ran from the room, but Elyse stayed where she was to plead with Michael, "Let her stay till morning, please. I'll have to go with her, and I don't want to leave till after you've found Jacie. I want to know she's all right, and I want to try to apologize to her for all the grief I've caused."
"Very well," Michael dismissed her, despite feeling so sorry for her. It was time to go. He went to where Luke was being held and said tersely, "You're going to lead us. We'll follow your orders, but I promise, if you try anything, you'll be dead before you hit the ground."
"I didn't come here to kill anybody, Blake. I told you, I only want Jacie to know I'm alive."
"You aren't going to try and take her back?"
"Only if she wants to go. Will you agree to let her make up her own mind?"
"Yes," Michael lied, feeling no guilt to make a promise he had no intention of keeping. Jacie was his. It was the way it had always been, the way it would always be.
He told Bart to take Luke to wherever he'd left his horse, and he would meet them at the stables. Then, when he and Elyse were alone, Michael began, "Look, I have no right to ask you to do this..."
"Anything," she was quick to assure him. "I'm willing to do anything to try and make up for what I've done."
"Despite what's happened tonight, my guests are going to be arriving, and they can't know about any of this. I want you to be hostess for me. Explain that my mother has fallen ill, and Jacie and I are sitting with her. I'll try to get back as quickly as I can and put in an appearance. If I don't, you will have to make my apologies, and everyone can think Mother took a turn for the worse. You will have to confide in Dr. Foley, however, because he'll insist on looking in on her, but he won't tell anyone else."
"I will take care of everything. Don't worry."
"I'll have the servants carry Mother upstairs and have someone stay with her. As for your mother, I'm leaving orders she's to be locked in her quarters."
"And I don't blame you. Now hurry," she urged.
He started out of the room but turned at the door to tell her, "I appreciate your owning up to what you did. If you hadn't, there wouldn't be any chance at all of my finding Jacie. I will always be grateful."
And I will always love you, she vowed silently, watching him hurry on his way.
Chapter 30
Zach was tired. He had ridden like the devil from Beaufort, with hardly any sleep. Now it was starting to rain, the wind blowing like crazy, and Jacie was making choking sounds as he held her in front of him on the horse like she was having trouble breathing. He decided it was time to stop for the night. It had to be after midnight, anyway, and he was so damn deep in the woods, Blake would never be able to find him.
He yanked the gag from her mouth, and she began to cough and gasp. He could have removed it hours ago but didn't want to listen to her screaming and was not about to now. "I'll leave it out as long as you keep your mouth shut," he warned. "I don't want to hear your bitchin', understand?" Her chest was heaving, and Zach liked the feel of the rise and fall of her breasts against his arms as he held the reins.
"Why are you doing this?" Her throat was sore and raw from trying to shriek against the gag. "We used to be friends—"
"Friends!" He guffawed. "You can't fool me, Jacie, girl. You wanted more than that, and you know it. And now you don't have to pretend no more, because you aren't ever goin' to see that wet-behind-the-ears ninny Blake again. You're goin' to be my woman."
"You're crazy," she hissed through clenched teeth.
"I think maybe we'll settle in Savannah," he mused. "I can always find work at the docks there. We can get us a little house in the country, and you can grow a garden. We'll have us a good life, you'll see. And we'll have lots and lots of young'uns."
She squirmed against him, wishing she could loosen her wrists and get her hands on a knife. "I'd rather die than have you touch me," she swore.
"Well, touch you I will," he cackled, squeezing her breasts. "And if you don't shut up, I'll gag you again. I've got to find us a place to hole up for the night, and then I'll make you feel so good you'll beg me to take you over and over. You'll see."
Lightening split the sky, and he cried, "We're in luck. I see something over there. Looks like an old shack."
He rode the horse right through the door of the dilapidated structure. Water was pouring through holes in the roof, but one corner of the room was dry. He lowered Jacie to the dirt floor and dismounted. "I got a blanket in a canvas bag that shouldn't even be damp. We'll bed down here. Now get your clothes off. That fancy gown you got on is soakin' wet. I got some trousers and a shirt in my saddlebag you can put on later. Right now..." and he drank in the sight of her as the storm once more lit up the night, "you don't need no clothes."
* * *
Luke had also seen the deserted shack in the flash of light, for he had been leading Michael and his men for some time without them knowing how close they actually were to Zach Newton. He had used all his Comanche cunning to feel for broken branches along the way, feeling for raw edges that let him know they had been recently torn by a horse passing by. He had also dismounted to get down on his hands and knees to check the depth of tracks in the mud to determine there was not one rider on the horse but two.
And as the storm had intensified, Luke had been confident Newton would seek refuge and figured he was inside the shack.
But he was not about to tell Blake, well aware Blake intended to kill him the second he no longer had any use for him.
"I think we should take shelter there." Luke pointed as the storm again lit up the night. "I can't find any more tracks in all this rain."
Grudgingly, water running off the rim of his hat, Michael agreed. "All right. But only till it slacks up."
Luke swung down off his horse and began walking stealthily toward the shack. He knew Blake and the others would be right behind him and he had to hurry. Reaching the porch, which was not a porch any longer but a pile of rotted logs, he stepped through the debris and positioned himself at the window to await the next bolt of lightning.
It came.
And he saw them, a man and woman struggling on the floor.
This time there was no glass to shatter, but the Comanche war cry he gave as he somersaulted through the window and landed feet first inside the room split the air.
Taking Newton by surprise, he was able to easily tear Jacie from him. "Run!" he commanded her. "Get out of here—now!"
But Jacie was paralyzed with shock to hear Luke's voice. As another flash of lightning lit up the room, she fought to believe that it could actually be him.
At last she came alive. "Dear God. Oh, dear God, Luke..." She backed away as Luke and Zack began to grapple on the floor, cursing and grunting.
Michael and his men had heard the noise and rushed to the shack to charge inside with guns drawn. Seeing them, Jacie shrieked, "Don't shoot! You'll hit Luke."
"Jacie!" Michael leapt to her and shielded her as he yelled over his shoulder, "I've got her. Now kill them both."
But Jacie twisted away from him to throw herself in front of Luke and Zach as they continued to fight. "No. You can't kill him. I won't let you."
Michael came after her. "Get back here. Get down, damn it."
Bart roared, "Boss, she's in the way. We can't s
hoot without hittin' her."
Michael lunged for her again, not seeing the rotted log lying next to a washed-out hole in the floor. With a cry of pain, he pitched forward. His leg snapped, and his face hit the ground hard, momentarily dazing him.
At the same instant, there came another cracking sound, louder, more ominous, as Luke broke Zach Newton's neck with a quick flick of his wrists.
Jacie threw herself against Luke as a torch ignited to flood the shack with an eerie, flickering light. "I don't believe it. Dear God, it's a miracle." She wrapped her arms about his neck and clung to him, sobbing with joy.
"Get away from him, Jacie." Michael lay on his side, his broken leg jutting out from his body at an awkward angle. He gritted his teeth against the white-hot stabs of pain. "Get away from him," he repeated in a deadly tone. "I can't let him take you away from me. I won't, damn it."
She stared at him in pity. "Oh, Michael, don't you understand? I was never really yours. I never said I loved you. I tried to love you, I swear I did. But I couldn't. And when I met Luke, it was like I'd been loving him my whole life, just waiting for fate to bring us together. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, but it's Luke I want. Please. Let me go." She faced him, trying to keep Luke behind her to shield him, believing as long as she did the men would not shoot him.
But Luke was taking no chances. Nor was he standing behind a woman. He saw the crazy look on the overseers' faces and knew one of them might be stupid enough to think he was a crack shot and could hit him and miss Jacie. He slung her to one side and fiercely reminded Michael, "We had a pact, damn you. You agreed to let her make up her own mind."
"I lied," Michael said with a triumphant smirk. "Jacie has been through so much these past months she doesn't know what she wants. She certainly doesn't know what she's saying if she claims she prefers living with a savage to the kind of life I can give her. She can't be in her right mind.
"But maybe I shouldn't have you killed," he went on thoughtfully, motioning to Bart and his men to lower their guns for the moment. "I've just realized Jacie would hate me forever if I did. And I don't want that. But neither will I let her go away with you," he added staunchly. He looked at Jacie. "You only think you love him. Come here if you want him to live. Listen to what I have to say."
Jacie could only obey, but all the while her eyes were on Luke, drinking in the sight of his dear face. She wanted so desperately to feel his arms close around her, never to let her go.
Despite the anguished throbbing of his injury, Michael drew her down beside him and took both her hands in his and spoke quietly, patiently. "You've been through an ordeal, and as I said, you can't be thinking clearly. Now, you know I love you more than my life, and you must understand that there is just no way I can let you go away with Luke or any other man. It's out of the question. If you don't want to marry me right away, I'll understand. I'll give you time to forget all this. But you must promise to live in my house and let me take care of you. Give me your word you will do that, and I will let the Comanche go free. Otherwise, I'll kill him, Jacie."
She knew he meant it. "I'll never forgive you for this, Michael, but you leave me no choice. I give you my word."
"You will get over it, Jacie. I'll make you so happy you'll forget you ever knew him." Then, to Luke he gloated, "Hear that, Indian? She's made me a promise. Now you get out of here as fast as you can and don't come back, or you're a dead man."
Woodenly, Luke could only concede. "I won't be back. She gave her word. I will not ask her to break it." He could not make himself look at Jacie again, could not bear to see his own anguish mirrored in the eyes he adored as he whispered, "Good-bye, my love."
Michael could not resist a final taunt. "I don't have to keep my word, you know. I can have you killed and still keep her."
Luke did not respond. He walked out, but Jacie pulled herself from Michael's grasp to run to the door and watch after him through her tears.
Then, her heart breaking into bits and pieces inside her, she turned back to Michael. "Yes, you could have killed him," she said coldly, remembering the time when she had begged Luke to slay the cougar. "But you don't have to kill everything you fear. Sometimes it goes away on its own, in peace. You should kill only to save yourself, Michael, and Luke was never a threat to you, only to what you think you feel for me."
"Think?" Michael echoed incredulously. "Oh, dear, beloved Jacie. I've never been more sure."
"Have you ever considered anything else?" she challenged to his further bewilderment. "I think not. You have wanted me since I was a child because I was a part of Red Oakes, and you had to own me like you own your slaves, your land, your precious mansion. It didn't matter whether I loved you, because you always got what you wanted. That's how it is with you and your rich family."
She turned from the door with a sigh wrenched from her very soul. Luke had been swallowed by the night and had taken a part of her with him, but it was over. For him to live, it was the way it had to be, and her only solace was knowing her mother would be with him, would be cared for.
Long moments passed. There was no sound save for the wind of the storm, the rain pelting down on what was left of the tin roof.
The men shifted uneasily, not sure what was expected of them and afraid to ask.
"Go to him."
All eyes were on Michael, but Jacie was the only one to speak. "What did you say?"
"I said go to him—now. Before I change my mind." He nodded to Bart. "Give her my horse... now," he commanded. "Do what I say, damn it."
Jacie was not about to argue and ran toward the door but suddenly stopped. Looking back at him in wonder, she felt the need to say something in parting and began, "Michael, I will never forget you for this—"
"Just go!" he yelled again, waving a hand at her, then viciously rubbing at his eyes, because he would be damned if he would let his men see him cry.
And after she had gone to disappear into the dregs of the storm, Bart and the others hurried to gather scrap wood and make a litter to carry Michael home.
When it was made and they were about to leave, Bart went to Michael and said, "I know it's your business, boss, but for the life of me, I can't understand why you let her go. She'd have got over him sooner or later."
"I don't expect you to understand," he responded thoughtfully. "It's only important that I do.
"Besides," he added with a sad little smile, "She's right. She never said the words... never said she loved me." But I believe she's said it to him, he thought miserably, just as I believe she meant it when she did.
* * *
Elyse had kept a vigil by her window all night, and when she saw them approaching she hurried out to meet them. "You're hurt," she cried, running to kneel by the litter. Then, seeing it was only his leg, she breathed thankfully, "At least you're alive."
Michael saw her glancing about and knew she was wondering why Jacie was not with them. "She's gone," he said. "She went with him. It's what she wanted. I think..." He drew a ragged breath of resolve and let it out slowly before admitting, "It's probably for the best."
Elyse's heart skipped a beat. She did not know what it would ultimately mean for her future, and for the moment she dared not ask. There was still much for Michael to forgive her for—if he ever could.
She told the men to carry him inside.
As they lifted him up, Michael reached to take her hand and say, more to himself than to her, "Maybe Jacie was right. Maybe I haven't ever thought of anything else... or anyone."
* * *
Luke and Jacie rode toward the sunrise, toward the future.
She rested against him; his arms wrapped about her tightly.
There was no need for the words. But they spoke them in unison all the same, the words whispered to the heart, from the heart... I love you.
The End
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STARLIGHT
Excerpt from
; Starlight
A Historical Western Romance
by
Patricia Hagan
New York Times Bestselling Author
Cade rolled backward, catching Sam's arms as she came at him. He squeezed hard, making her drop the knife and at the same time lifting his knee to her stomach to easily throw her up and over him. She landed with a grunt of pain and outraged fury. He was amazed when she did not hesitate to bounce up and come at him again. Was she crazy? As far as she knew, he was an authentic warring Indian, vicious and brutal. And no matter how angry and desperate she might be, she was no match for his strength.
With hot tears of rage blinding her, Sam cried, "You'll have to kill me, you spawn of the devil."
He wrestled her back to her bed, laid her face down, then pressed firmly to indicate she was to stay there. When she continued to struggle, he put his foot on her back to hold her still.
"Damn you, damn you, damn you," she muttered between clenched teeth, banging her chin up and down and beating the ground with her fists. "Damn you straight to hell, you son of a whore."
Cade's lips quirked slightly. How he would love to be a fly on the wall when the newlyweds had their first fight. Jarman Ballard would probably drop dead of a heart attack when he heard how his supposedly genteel, well-bred bride could unleash profanity that could make some men blush.
He found another rope and trussed her again, this time making sure she could not wander about. He had to get some sleep but knew if she weren't properly tethered, she'd come after him again.
She spat another oath, and he clamped his hand over her lips and motioned he would gag her if she didn't shut up. She understood and fell silent, not wanting the rag stuffed in her mouth again. He sat and watched her for a while, thought about offering her something to eat but knew she was too mad to care about food. Eventually, when she came to realize that no one was going to harm her, maybe she would calm down. If not, he knew the next weeks were going to be miserable.
Tin-Stars and Troublemakers Box Set (Four Complete Historical Western Romance Novels in One) Page 126