He could hardly believe his good fortune: The boy was coming down the path in his direction. He took a deep breath and tried to smile.
“Boy . . . Jonathan, over here,” he said as quietly as he could so he would not be overheard by the guards.
Jonathan casually walked toward him. “Are you here again, mister?”
“Of course I am,” Brace bit out. “I told you I would be, didn’t I?”
“I forgot all about you.”
Brace’s anger shot up—he didn’t like anyone to forget about him. But he could not show his anger until he had the child in his grasp. “Do you still want to come with me to get your mommy a surprise?”
Jonathan glanced back toward the house and then to the man. “I’d like to, but my father might not like it.”
Brace reached into his coat pocket. “Just put this letter on the bench, and come back here so I can lift you over. Your mommy will be so surprised by what I have in mind.”
Jonathan took the letter and turned it over in his hand. “What’s this for?”
The boy was beginning to annoy him. “Do you have to question everything I say?” Then realizing his anger had startled the boy, he softened his tone. “This is for your mommy.”
Jonathan blinked at the man’s harsh tone, but he carried the letter to the bench, propping it against the back. “Can I still ride on the horse? Can I guide it?”
“Yes. You can ride in front.”
Jonathan held his arms up, and Brace lifted him over the wall. Once he had the boy in his grasp, he kept a hand on his arm, half dragging him forward as he walked away.
“You’re walking too fast. I can’t keep up with you.”
“Keep your mouth shut and quit whining.”
Jonathan halted, knowing something was wrong. “You aren’t going to buy my mommy a gift.”
“What a smart boy you are.” Brace’s heart rate accelerated. The moment the boy had come with him, he had won this game between himself and Caroline. He knew her—she would do almost anything to get the boy back. “You are my gift to me,” he told the now frightened boy.
Caroline was waiting for Jonathan on the veranda. Since she had discovered that Brace had been lurking about, she insisted that they read on the veranda in sight of the guards.
She heard the tall case clock chime two times. It wasn’t like Jonathan to be late—he was always so excited about reading another chapter. Uneasiness settled over her as she entered the house. First she went into the kitchen, where she found Mary bent over a copper kettle with a polishing rag in her hand.
“Have you seen Jonathan?”
“No. Not since lunch. He was supposed to be with you, wasn’t he?”
Caroline could not keep the worry out of her voice. “He’s not. Where do you suppose—”
Mary paled, setting the kettle aside. “I’ll just search the upstairs. He may have gone to his bedroom.”
With growing concern, Caroline nodded. “I will search the downstairs.”
When Mary returned a short time later and shook her head, Caroline’s concern deepened. “He’s not in the house. If you will speak to the guards out front, I’ll go into the garden and look for him,” Caroline said, running for the back door. She was still running when she reached the path that led to the place where she and Jonathan had first met. Perhaps he had misunderstood her instructions and was waiting for her there.
As she approached the bench, her heart stopped when she saw the letter. She snatched it up, already knowing whom it was from. Ripping it open with trembling fingers, she read:
Caroline, if you are the one to read this, I have Jonathan. If you want him back alive, you must follow the map I drew on the back of this page—come alone or I will kill the boy. You know me well enough to realize I do not make idle threats. You also know that if I give you my word, I will keep it. If you come to me, I will let the boy go. But if you tell Renault, and he shows up, they will both die. Come as quickly as you can and come alone. I am most impatient to see you again.
She clamped her hand over her mouth. Brace had Jonathan! She suppressed a sob. The child must be so frightened—she had to get to him as soon as possible. She turned the letter over and memorized the directions. There was no time to lose—if Brace said he would kill Jonathan, he would do it. She heard a guard coming in her direction, and she hurried toward the house. There was one thing she needed before she left.
“Good day, Mrs. Renault. Mary said you were looking for Jonathan,” Frank said.
She shook her head and stared at the ground so Frank would not see how upset she was. “It’s all right. I know where he is.”
“Good. That little scamp keeps us all busy.”
“If you will excuse me,” she said, hurrying toward the back steps that took her to the bedroom.
“Wait, Mrs. Renault, you dropped—”
She didn’t hear him; she was already halfway up the stairs. Frank glanced down at the paper and saw the map sketched on the back. With a worried frown he turned it over and read what was written there. In the next moment he was running toward the front of the house, where he found Louis hitching the horses to the carriage so he could take Mary into town for her weekly shopping.
“Louis, get me to town and don’t spare the horses—I have to see Mr. Renault!”
Caroline found the derringer on the dresser where Wade had left it. She checked the chamber and saw that it was loaded before she dropped it into her pocket. With quickened steps, she ran down the back stairs and made her way to the stable.
She had wanted Wade’s gelding because it would be the fastest of all the horses, but his stall was empty. Wade must have ridden the horse into town. She grabbed a bridle from a hook and went to the next stall, where a frisky gray mare tossed her head. She quickly slipped the bridle over its head and, not bothering with a saddle, hauled herself onto the mare’s back.
She kicked the horse into a gallop as soon as they left the stables. She heard Elliot calling out and running after her, but she did not slow her pace. She had to get to Jonathan before Brace hurt him.
As it happened, Frank met Wade returning to the house not a mile down the road. He leaped out of the carriage and handed him the letter. “We’ve got real trouble, sir.”
Wade read the letter while trying to control his spirited mount. “God help me!” he exclaimed as fear tightened in his gut like a vise. “Where did you leave my wife?”
“She went into the house. I thought she would be safe there. He’s got the boy, though.”
Wade’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened. “She will go after the boy. You should have stayed with her so you could have prevented it.”
“I didn’t think she would—”
“Let me have your gun,” Wade said, his voice trembling with emotion.
Frank unbuckled his gun belt and handed it to his boss.
“I’ll come with you.”
“No. This I have to do alone.” He buckled the gun belt around his waist and kicked his horse into action, his heart in his throat. “Caroline,” he said, grief tearing at him. “Let me get to her in time.”
Chapter Thirty
A feeling of growing desperation tore at Caroline. She kicked her mount to a faster pace. She could only imagine how frightened Jonathan must be. Brace would have made threats—she just hoped he hadn’t hurt the boy.
Dust rose behind her as she bent lower over her mount. According to the map Brace had drawn, the place should be just around the next bend. The mare ran as if she were still fresh. Caroline rode beneath drooping willow trees, the branches snagging her hair, tearing it loose from the chignon. Finally, in the distance she saw the house. There was no reason to sneak up to the place, because Brace would be watching for her.
She dismounted, looking about with her hand resting on the derringer in her pocket. She was as frightened as she had ever been in her life, but she was more afraid of what Brace would do to Jonathan than she was for her own safety.
It was an eer
y place with moss hanging from dead cypress trees; it looked as if it had been abandoned for a long time. The house sat on stilts, the paint chipped away from years of neglect. Rickety steps led to the front porch, where the door hung on one hinge. There was no one in sight. The sounds coming from the swamp were almost deafening: Then silence fell around her, and a shiver went up her spine.
The hand that held the derringer trembled as she stared at the two front windows, wondering if Brace was there watching her. He probably was. She reminded herself that she was doing this for Jonathan, and for Michael.
“Jonathan! It’s Mommy. Are you in the house?”
She heard a small cry from somewhere inside the dwelling and she clutched the derringer tighter. There was no doubt in her mind that she could shoot Brace stone-cold dead if she got the chance.
“Mommy. I’m scared!”
She ran in the directions of the child’s voice, praying Brace wouldn’t hurt him before she got there. He was perfectly capable of hurting a child, and he would do it just to spite her.
“I’m here!” she cried, a bit breathless from running. “Don’t be afraid.”
She had just reached the bottom step when the door creaked open, and Brace stood there, his face twisted, Jonathan under one arm. A rifle was slung over his shoulder, and a slow smile curved his lips. He was the same as she remembered him except his hair was a little grayer now. His eyes were still cold and cruel, and he was still her worst nightmare.
She took another step and then another—there were seven steps before she reached the porch. “Let my son go.”
“You have no son.”
“Jonathan, remember the book we were reading—remember about being brave?”
He nodded, but his eyes were fraught with fear, and his small body trembled.
Caroline glanced back at Brace. He was capable of any crime if it would get him what he wanted. He had come all the way to New Orleans, worked out a plan to get his hands on her. She knew there was nothing she could say that would deter him, but she had to try. “I told you to let my son go.”
He rubbed his stubbled cheek against the stock of his rifle. “All in good time.”
“Do it now.”
“My, my, my, but you seem to have found courage since I last saw you. How have you been doing, Caroline?”
“Don’t speak to me about that. Tell Jonathan that you do not intend to hurt him—you’re frightening him.”
“It’s not the boy I want, and you know it.” His voice came out in a hiss. “You know what I am here for.”
Caroline reached out to Jonathan. “He doesn’t mean any harm to you. You heard him—he has come for me. Please do not be frightened.”
“I’m sorry,” the boy said, wiping tears on the back of his hand. “He said we would get you a present and it would be a surprise you would like. It’s all my fault.”
“No. You must not think that. None of this is your fault.”
“He wants to hurt you, Mommy—he said so. I don’t want him to.”
She stared openly at Brace. “Allow me to put him on the horse and send him back home. You have me—that’s all you ever wanted.”
“This boy can’t ride that horse,” Brace said scornfully. “He could hardly stay astride the one I was holding him on.”
“I would rather have him take his chances on that horse than to let him see what is going to happen here.”
“The boy stays.” Brace smiled cruelly, and Caroline knew in that moment that she had shown him her weakness—her love for Jonathan—and he would use it against her. He was good at that. She had given him the power to hurt her by hurting her son.
“What do you have in mind?” she asked, moving up another step, inching closer to Jonathan.
“I’m going to have the pleasure of watching you die today, Caroline. You never listened to me when I told you that you belonged to me. You married Michael, and I had to get rid of him. Now you’ve gone and married Renault, and I’ll soon take care of him, too. But you won’t be around to know, so don’t worry about it.”
She probably would die today, and just when she had so much to live for. Her gaze went to Jonathan, who was squirming and trying to pull himself free. “Don’t fight him, Jonathan. You will only make it worse.”
Brace yanked painfully on the boy’s arm. “Listen to her, and I just may let you live.” He glanced at Caroline. “I can do that one thing for you if you will sign the papers leaving me Michael’s estate.”
“If you will allow Jonathan to leave, I will tell you where the gold is hidden.”
“Do you think I am a fool? You could tell me anything you wanted to, just to free the boy.”
Jonathan kicked at Brace. “You leave my mommy alone! I’m not going to let you hurt her!”
With a sudden jerk, Brace flung the boy against the porch railing, using such force that Jonathan crumpled onto the warped boards.
Caroline climbed another step so she could go to him, but Brace raised his rifle, aiming it at her.
“You don’t know how long I have waited for this moment. I dreamed of you crying and begging me to let you live.”
She raised her head. “I’m neither crying nor begging. I will not sign the papers giving you Michael’s estate. I despise you for you are evil. You killed my father.”
“I’m not evil,” he said, looking surprised by her words. “I’m just a man who loves a woman too much. You did this to me, Caroline. I had to kill your father. He wouldn’t tell me where to find you.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “You fool. My father didn’t know where to find me.” She was crying openly now. He had blatantly admitted killing her father with no more feeling than if he had swatted an insect. “You have left a trail of destruction and broken lives. Even your own mother is afraid of you.”
“Do you think I care? I don’t let anyone come between me and you.” He flipped the rifle forward and centered his aim at her heart. “I give you one more chance to sign the papers.”
She knew that even if she did as he demanded, he would kill her anyway. Her only satisfaction would be in knowing that Wade would hunt Brace down and end his evil life. “Never.”
“That’s what I thought you would say.” He gave a feigned expression of sorrow. “Too bad.”
Caroline pulled the derringer out of her pocket. “You can do what you will to me—but I can’t let you hurt my son.”
He glanced at the gun. “So you found that where I dropped it.” He cocked the rifle, the sound resounding through the swamp. “That’s nothing more than a popgun you’ve got there.”
She pulled back the hammer on the derringer, surprised at how calm she felt. If she was going to die, she would take the man who’d destroyed so many lives with her. Regretfully she thought of Wade. If only she could see him one more time before she died.
“This ‘popgun,’ as you call it, is aimed right at your black heart. Did you know when you got out of bed this morning that you were going to die today, Brace?”
He merely smiled and shook his head. “Caroline, Caroline, you will be dead long before you can ever pull that trigger.”
Wade had dismounted several hundred feet away from the house and cautiously made his way forward, keeping to the cover of the bushes. He was close enough to see Caroline and hear what was being said. His blood chilled when he saw Brace’s rifle aimed at her.
Caroline was in his way, so he could not get a clear shot at Brace. He drew his gun, feeling panic rise inside him. He had to work his way around to the left, but there might not be time. He could hear Brace threatening her, and he heard her speak to him, sounding so unafraid. She was his life—he could not lose her.
He heard when Brace cocked his gun. If he raced across the opening between him and the house, could he distract the man, or would his actions make Brace fire the gun?
It was at that moment that Wade saw Jonathan in a crouching position inching in Brace’s direction. Dear God, he could not lose them both! Then he saw the boy dive at
Brace, taking him off guard and throwing him off balance. It was the distraction Wade needed. He did not have to take aim, he just fired.
Wade covered the distance to Caroline in no time at all. She was staring down at Brace as if she were dazed. She saw the bloodstain widening on his shirt-front, just as it had with Michael the day he had died. The derringer dropped from her numb fingers—she had not fired the gun, and yet the fatal shot had come from somewhere.
She reached out, scooped Jonathan up in her arms, and took a step backward, her gaze never leaving the horrible scene before her. She tried to shield her son from the awful sight.
She was suddenly surrounded by strong arms, and she sobbed, shaking all over as Wade gathered her to him, his hand on Jonathan’s head.
“Thank God, I was in time,” he said, his body trembling with raw emotion. “I could have lost you.”
“Is he dead?” she asked, not wanting to look back at Brace.
“He was dead the moment I fired the shot.”
Tears slid down Jonathan’s face, and Caroline held him tighter.
“He was going to shoot Mommy.”
Wade took the boy from Caroline. “I know, son. You helped save her life. If you had not slammed into him when you did, I would not have been able to get the shot off in time.”
Jonathan wriggled out of his arms, his eyes filled with pride. “You came after us! I knew you would, and I told that man so. He didn’t have a chance against you, Father.”
Wade folded Caroline into the shelter of his arms. She looked ready to collapse. “Let’s get you away from here,” he said, not wanting to linger at the scene of death.
Frank and Louis had arrived with the buggy, and Wade lifted Caroline into his arms and carried her toward it, while Jonathan hurried beside them.
“Do not fret, mon amour. It is all over. You will never have to worry about him again.”
“All I could think about,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder, “was that I would never see you again.”
The Moon and the Stars Page 26