Midnight Marriage

by Victoria Bylin

  “I’ll check with Mr. Albright, ma’am.”

  Her body felt leaden, except for the trembling in her belly, as she walked with the guards to the waiting train. She thought briefly of her carpetbag in the hotel but didn’t care enough to fetch it. When they reached the station, she saw a locomotive with brass trim and only five cars behind it. She guessed that Garrett had used his family connections, but whatever help he’d summoned had arrived too late for Rafe.

  Detective Montgomery helped her up the steps and motioned for her to sit on a divan in a private passenger car. A porter appeared and asked if she needed something to drink. Susanna shook her head and he exited the car, leaving her to weep alone.

  Chapter Twenty

  Rafe surveyed the men and women who had come to see him die. He looked hard at each face, expecting his usual bitterness to rise like bile. But instead of anger, he felt only a terrible pity. The mob had lost its soul and Ed Jessup had lost his mind. But Rafe felt a peace that settled around him like a mother’s embrace.

  He knew Susanna would find the drawing on the wall. It wouldn’t take away the sting of their parting, but she was a wise woman. She’d see the love in the pencil strokes and know his heart. Last night they had become one body, cleaving together just like the Reverend said. Not even death could erase that love.

  As he looked at the angry mob, Rafe thought of Garrett with gratitude. They had made their amends and he could count on his brother to look out for his wife. The only regret he had concerned the boss. This morning Rafe would have spit on him. Now he understood the man’s need to make amends.

  His death would deny the boss that peace, but Rafe knew of another soul that needed pardon. He searched the crowd for Lucy Jessup and found her standing alone and slightly apart. Knowing about mistakes, he called out to her. “I forgive you, Lucy.”

  The girl gasped and stared at him wide-eyed. Then she looked back down at her feet.

  Rafe felt her shame, but he had no sympathy for the bloodthirsty crowd. Sitting tall, he shouted, “You’re hanging an innocent man today. I want you to remember that.”

  “Who says?” shouted a rabble rouser.

  “Murderer!”

  “Death’s too good for you!”

  “Slap the damn horse!”

  Rafe took in the sneers and the disgust, the gruesome taunts and even a few women with tearstained cheeks. He wasn’t fooled. Their grief was for the Jessup family—not him. The mob wanted to send him straight to hell, but Rafe knew that wasn’t his fate. Because of Susanna, he’d finally learned that love was stronger than hate. He felt her presence in the sun at his back, and he saw her outstretched arms in the shadow of the branches. Looking straight ahead, he waited for Jessup to send him to heaven.

  Only the man didn’t move. Rafe’s gaze dropped from the blue sky to the crowd where he saw streams of dust as people stepped aside for a dozen men in brown dusters. Tall and arrogant, they strode through the crowd, each one armed with the truth and a bladeless ax handle.

  Rafe knew what the weapons meant. The railroad’s toughest agents carried them on trains for times when a gun was a danger to innocent passengers. As the men strode toward the tree, the crowd stood in stunned silence. Rafe heard a rifle being cocked and glanced to his right. Two men were positioned on the roof of the railroad station, each one aiming at one of his captors. Two more rifles clicked and he looked to his left where another set of guards had set up a perfect crossfire.

  “Hold on, Jessup,” said the man on Rafe’s left. “I don’t want to die today.”

  “I don’t give a damn what you want.”

  “Don’t shoot!” called the man who’d chickened out.

  “We’ll let him go.”

  All Rafe had to do was stay on the horse and he’d live. But he could see Ed Jessup weighing his options. He could send Rafe to eternity, but they’d be making the trip together.

  “Don’t leave your daughter,” Rafe said. “I’m not worth it.”

  Before Jessup could decide if he agreed, the twelve guards emerged from the mob and formed a wall in front of the horse. The agent in the middle looked hard at Jessup. “If that nag moves, you’ll be dead before the rope gets tight.”

  Jessup didn’t budge, but his cohorts raised their hands high and stepped back. The guard strode forward and gripped the horse’s halter, then he raised the ax handle over his head and held it high to give a signal. Rafe looked toward the railroad office where a group of men in suits were filing out of the door. In the lead was the man Rafe had hated most of his life.

  Walter Albright had aged in the past five years. His brown hair had turned to iron, but his eyes hadn’t lost their intensity. Rafe felt that gaze hard on his face. Behind his father he saw Garrett with his cane, a man who looked like the governor of the New Mexico territory and two men wearing copper stars that marked them as federal marshals.

  As the men gathered by the tree, Garrett unsheathed his sword and severed the rope from the branch. It slithered past Rafe’s shoulder and landed on the ground like a dead snake. When he bent his neck to shake off the noose, Garrett slid it over his head and then untied his hands. Free at last, Rafe slid off the horse and faced Walter Albright.

  “I have something to give you,” the man said. “I’d be grateful if we could talk in private.”

  “Of course.” Rafe had something to say as well.

  His father nodded and turned to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, my friends and I have no wish to circumvent justice. If the evidence is worthy, Mr. LaCroix will stand trial. But if today’s actions are an indication, you are all far more guilty than he is. This was a goddamned lynching!”

  Albright’s voice boomed like thunder. “What happened to the principles that this blessed country is founded upon? What happened to a man’s right to be heard before he’s condemned?”

  The boss hadn’t directed the question to him, but Rafe felt guilty as charged. Susanna had been right about listening to his father’s side of the story. At the thought of her, he turned to Garrett and whispered, “My wife—”

  “I sent men. You’ll see her soon.”

  Relieved beyond measure, Rafe directed his attention to his father, who was lecturing the stunned crowd. In that stillness, Rafe became aware of Lucy Jessup staring at him. He knew she was searching for her courage, just as he should have done when he’d left Garrett to die.

  Come on, Lucy… Come on…

  After taking a breath, she waved her arm and shouted, “Listen to me, everyone. I was wrong. I have to tell the truth.”

  Walter Albright nodded at two security agents who cleared a path for the girl. Looking small and afraid, she walked toward the hanging tree and positioned herself in front of the crowd. “I didn’t lie when I said this was the man, but I wasn’t sure, either. Now I’m sure it’s not him.”

  Lucy turned to her father. “I’m sorry, Pa. I know you wanted me to say it was true, but it’s not.”

  The man slapped the girl hard across the face. “You’re lying now!”

  Before Rafe could blink, a guard grabbed Jessup’s wrist, spun him to the ground and hogtied him with the lynching rope.

  The man whom Rafe guessed to be the territorial governor stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d say that settles the issue.”

  Rafe couldn’t tell if the crowd was disappointed or relieved, but no one uttered a word as they drifted away. The governor turned to Rafe. “Do you want to press charges against Mr. Jessup and his friends?”

  No,” Rafe answered. “But I’d like him to spend a night in jail for smacking Lucy. I’d also like to see this tree turned into firewood.”

  The governor nodded. “Consider it done.”

  After some discussion with his father, the governor and the marshals left for town, leaving Rafe alone with Garrett and his father. Lucy cleared her throat. “Mr. LaCroix?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry for what happened. I don’t see how you can forgive me.”

 
“It’s all right,” Rafe answered. “I’ve made a few mistakes myself, including one as bad this one.”

  The girl mumbled again that she was sorry and walked away. The guilt would linger for a while, but it wouldn’t haunt her like it had Rafe.

  Walter Albright took command of the situation and faced Garrett first. “Son, if you don’t mind, I’d like a moment with your brother.”

  “Of course,” he replied.

  When Garrett was out of hearing distance, Rafe’s father reached into his pocket and withdrew a gold band studded with rubies. As the sun reflected off the ring, Rafe recalled the hundreds of times he’d seen it on Mimi’s finger. He’d thought it was a meaningless token and had figured it had been buried with her. Seeing it now brought his mother back to life.

  His father tilted the band so that the rubies caught the light. “She loved red, but you knew that.”

  Rafe knew something else. “She loved you, too.”

  “Yes, she did.” He sounded wistful. “But she loved you more. This isn’t how I planned on telling you about the last time I saw your mother, but we don’t always get to choose where and how we make our confessions.”

  Susanna had been right. Walter Albright needed to make peace for things Rafe had never considered. “That’s true,” he answered.

  “As a young man, I made a terrible mistake. I married for money instead of love and then lacked the discipline to keep those vows. My wife and I paid the price every day until she died, but you and your mother, and even Garrett, bore the consequences as well. For that I’m sorry.”

  Rafe thought about what the Reverend had said about letting the dead bury dead. It was time to move on. “It’s in the past.”

  “Is it?” The older man’s jaw hardened. “I can’t help but think about how Mimi died.”

  Rafe understood the question and all it implied. Had she bled to death from a miscarriage or had she visited a back-alley abortionist who’d killed her? They were at the root of Rafe’s hatred for this man, but what did they really know? Only that Mimi had loved them both.

  “I’ve wondered, too,” Rafe answered honestly. “In fact, I hated you for it. But deep down I know that Mimi would have loved that child like she cared for you and me. You made sure we had food and a roof over our heads, so money wasn’t a factor. As for what people thought, shame had no place in her life.”

  Walter Albright looked doubtful. “The last time I saw her, she had to know about the baby, but she didn’t tell me. We had a bit of a spat—more like a real row—about your schooling. We both knew that someday I’d invite you to work for the railroad. I wanted to hire a private tutor so you could stay in New Orleans, but Mimi wanted you to have the credentials of an East Coast education.”

  Rafe felt the truth in his bones. “She was always pushing me to do well in school.”

  “When she died, I tried to honor her wishes. I know it was hard for you, but I thought it was for the best.”

  “I can see that now.”

  “What troubles me is the baby. I never knew, and now I wonder if she thought I was ashamed.”

  “Were you?”

  “Only of myself.” Walter Albright looked straight into Rafe’s eyes. “It wasn’t until I lost you and almost Garrett that I saw the railroad for what it is—a business and not a child. I vowed that night to make things right with both of you.”

  Rafe felt the noose coming off his neck all over again. “You have, sir. I owe you my life. After the way I left, you would have been right to forget I’d ever been born.”

  “A man can’t forget his children. It won’t fix past mistakes, but I’d like to make up for lost time. I understand you have a wife.”

  Rafe felt a surge of pride. “That’s right. She’s a doctor.”

  “That’s what I heard from Garrett. I’d like to fund a full clinic for her.” The man’s eyes misted. “The gift will be made in Mimi’s memory.”

  Rafe choked up. “Thank you, sir.”

  The boss nodded and then clasped his hands behind his back. “I’ve also heard that you’re a hell of a bounty hunter.”

  The pride in his father’s voice touched Rafe to the core. “I did all right.”

  “You did better than that,” Albright said. “Thanks to the Benton capture, you have a reputation equal to my best agents. I’d like to offer you a position with the railroad.”

  Respect shone in his father’s eyes. The older man wasn’t telling Rafe to take the job. He was asking if he wanted it. “What do you have in mind?”

  “You’d be overseeing security for the Southwest. If you’re interested, there’s an office on the third floor of the Midas depot.”

  Rafe thought of the men in tan dusters and all they stood for—bravery, justice and protecting innocent lives. He’d ride the rails when he had to, but he’d be even happier to spend his nights with Susanna.

  He smiled. “I’d like that, sir.”

  “Then it’s settled. That leaves us with one last item of business. I hope it’s not too late to give you and your wife a wedding present?”

  Rafe felt chagrined. “We had words, but I plan to grovel as soon as I see her.”

  “Perhaps I can help you out.” His father’s eyes twinkled. “Garrett tells me there’s a parcel of land outside of town that would be suitable for a house. I figure you’ll need six bedrooms and a stable.”

  A bribe wouldn’t win Susanna’s heart, but making peace with his father would prove that his bitterness was gone for good. Rafe smiled at the older man. “Sir, we’d be honored to accept. It’s kind of you and I don’t deserve it.”

  “It’s a gift, son.”

  “Even so, you’re not the only one here with amends to make. I was wrong to steal from you and even more wrong to leave Garrett bleeding like that. I know all about mistakes. I am truly sorry for running, and even more sorry for all the ugly things I’ve been thinking.”

  “Consider it forgotten.”

  When Rafe held out his hand to shake, Walter Albright put Mimi’s ring in his palm. Then he curled Rafe’s fingers around the band of gold and cupped his hand in both of his. Looking down, Rafe saw the thickness of the old man’s arthritic knuckles. Time had changed them all.

  “I’ve kept Mimi’s ring in my pocket for thirteen years,” his father said. “I think she’d like you to have it.”

  Rafe lifted the ring to the sun and thought about love, mistakes and forgiveness. He couldn’t think of a more fitting wedding band for his wife. “This means a lot to me.”

  “Then it’s yours to give to Dr. LaCroix.” His father’s eyes turned a deep blue, then he gave Rafe a smile that bordered on rascally. “I thought you and your wife might need some time alone. I told my steward to give you my private car for the trip to Midas.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  In spite of Rafe’s warm tone, the older man looked disappointed. That’s when Rafe realized that he’d once called this man “Papa” but had taken to calling him the boss like everyone else. Rafe held out his hand. “I’m years past calling you Papa. How does Father sound?”

  “I’d be honored.”

  Backslapping hugs weren’t Walter Albright’s style, but his voice had choked up and he was gripping Rafe’s hand with all his might. “Welcome home, son. Now go make up with your wife.”

  “Dr. LaCroix?”

  Susanna looked up from her damp handkerchief and saw the guard who had brought her to the train. Perhaps he had word about retrieving Rafe’s body. “Yes?”

  “You can see your husband now. He’s in the boss’s private car, so if you’ll follow me…”

  The man motioned toward the door at the end of the car. As much as she dreaded seeing Rafe’s corpse, she welcomed the chance for a private goodbye. She stood and followed her escort, vaguely aware that the train was starting to roll. After passing through a second car, the guard stopped on a connecting platform and knocked on a mahogany door carved with an ornate W.A.

  When no one answered, he opened the doo
r, motioned for her to enter and then closed it, leaving her in an alcove that entered into a sitting room. She could see light through the windows and a partition that blocked off what she guessed to be a sleeping compartment. Rafe’s body was most likely in that private space.

  Susanna took three steps and halted. On the wall by the bedchamber she saw the shadow of a man shaving with a straight razor. It didn’t seem likely that she’d walked in on Walter Albright. The guard wouldn’t have made that kind of mistake. Nor would the elderly man have had broad shoulders and muscular arms that matched the ones that had held her last night. She had heard of grieving widows seeing visions, and that was the only explanation that made sense. Except the shadow was humming a waltz. Mystified, she watched as the man came around the corner, barechested and golden in the morning light. The sun glistened in his hair and made it shine. Best of all, he had Rafe’s blue eyes.

  “You’re alive,” she blurted.

  A smile curled his lips. “Is that a medical assessment?”

  “No, it’s a shock.” She could barely breathe. “I saw the hearse—I thought—”

  In three strides, he crossed the room and pulled her tight against his chest. All she could do was press her cheek against those hard muscles and listen to the beat of his heart. His body molded to hers, leaving no doubt that he was flesh and blood. “It was close, Susanna.”

  She put her hands on his chest and looked up. “Tell me what happened.”

  Rafe led her to a divan where he wrapped her in his arms and shared the struggle with Jessup, his father’s intervention and Lucy admitting that she’d been wrong. “You were right. My father had worries I’d never considered.”

  “I’m glad it’s settled.”

  “I owe you amends, too,” he said. “I said hateful things in the jail.”

  “So did I.”

  Rafe smiled at her. “I guess we had our first fight.”

  “Just so it’s not our last,” she quietly. “I don’t mind a bit of arguing, just so we always sleep in the same bed.” His eyes twinkled. “That won’t be a problem. My father offered me a job in Midas. How would you like to be married to the man in charge of security for the Southwest region of the Santa Fe Railroad?”