Flight for Life

by Stephy Smith

  “I know. Did you know Randolph Lawrence?”

  “No. I don’t know him. I only met him when you did. I have a feeling he could be in with the other two. I suspect he was sent after me.”

  “You know there were three men sent to kill you?”

  “Yes, and maybe more.” Zaidee lowered her head to look at her hands.

  “Do you know who ordered them to kill you?”

  “No. The one who killed Emmett, I suppose. I was hiding, they were so close and I was so scared. I heard him talking to three men. He instructed them to kill me when they got a chance, and they left. I didn’t want to bring this to your family. I needed more money since I couldn’t get to mine. That’s why I agreed to teach the children. I thought I’d lost them. I was wrong, very wrong.”

  “I have a plan,” Joseph said with a smile. “We’re going to put Flora Reese to rest.”

  “You’re going to kill me?”

  “No. Flora Reese was shot, not Zaidee Rogers.” Joseph displayed a wicked grin.

  “I don’t think I’m following this. You make it sound as if I’m doomed to death.”

  “You may have to stay inside a while longer. We’ll have our monthly feast tonight indoors with curtains pulled. The whole plantation will be closed for your wake. I’ll send word to the sheriff to spread the news around town. We just won’t tell him you’re alive. I’ll have Leroy fashion a coffin.”

  Joseph called for Doc. When he entered, Joseph explained what was going to take place. With the doc’s help, they would stage the death in a few days.

  Joseph called Stephen, Clara, his mother, and father into the room. Zaidee watched and listened while the family planned her funeral. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Joseph sat next to her, holding her hand. He picked up her brush and brushed her hair, despite the fact that she sat in the wheelchair. He continued his plan to plant her in the ground.

  Did he know what he was doing to her heart? Why was he trying to free her from a terrible life of running? She didn’t have any answers. Though she didn’t know much about him, her gratitude ran high.

  The whole plantation enjoyed setting up her funeral. What was she to do if they asked her to lie in the coffin? It would only serve her right after the way she’d lied and brought torment to these people. A shiver of lightning coursed down her spine. At least she had memories of good times to take with her when they would lower her six feet under. She glanced Joseph’s way.

  Zaidee couldn’t forget the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. The sound of his voice sent tingles across her skin. The swagger in his walk as he strolled easily across the room to be near her flared an undeniable desire. The twinkle in his eyes burned the same way as candlelight.

  Things had spiraled out of control, and her guilt played heavily on her heart and soul. How was she going to make this thing right with them? How could she expect them to forgive her for the lies she’d told when she’d first met them?

  She sensed a need to free this family. If this was what it would take, then she would do it. They didn’t deserve what they were planning for the sake of one woman who had sent their lives into a living nightmare.

  Joseph needed to be told she couldn’t allow this to happen. The absurdity was so overwhelming. Zaidee’s heart leaped at the sight of him, and tingles ran through her veins with every touch of his hands. She needed more than just a protector. She wanted much more. But he couldn’t give her the one thing she needed most, and that was his heart. A heart she had no right to ask for.

  Her heart belonged to him. She knew she would never marry now. He had ruined her to love only him for the rest of her days. Zaidee fell helpless to a powerful, breathtaking, wonderful love for a man who couldn’t return her affections.

  Deep down, she knew he cared for her. But he didn’t love her, and this hurt her deeply. How could he easily toy with her heart, touching her tenderly, and plan her funeral only to cast her as far from him as he could send her? She couldn’t, no she wouldn’t allow that to happen. For when it did, who would be there to pick up the pieces? She needed to escape this madness before it consumed her.

  Too much confusion wore her body down. She asked to be left alone in her room. Clara helped her to the bed as everyone filed out in a single line. Dreams of a beautiful funeral mixed with the possibility she would lie in the coffin until the last breath of air dispelled from her lungs.

  A few hours later, Clara and Lola entered, carrying fresh-cut flowers for the vases. Zaidee took a deep breath, savoring the sweet aroma of roses. Oh, she was going to miss this place.

  “What are you doin’ out of that bed?” Lola shook her finger at Zaidee.

  “I’m so sick of that bed I could scream,” Zaidee said. “I don’t know if I ever want to lie down again. I need exercise, to stretch, anything but to lie around like an invalid.”

  “I’ll get Doc,” Clara said.

  “You’re patient’s becomin’ impatient,” Lola called out when Doc opened his door.

  “I want out of this room, Doc. You won’t let me out of bed. I can’t go downstairs. I can’t watch the children play. All I can do is sit in this room and go senseless.” Zaidee stood by a marbled mantel. “I can’t even look out a window. Oh sure, you let me go out and sit on the gallery occasionally, but I want to go to the library to read a book!”

  Lola and Clara stood quietly, their hands covered their mouths. Doc stood mummified and Joseph froze in the doorway. “I aim to live before you stuff me in a coffin and lower my warm body into the cold ground.”

  “Walk to the stairs,” Joseph said. “Lola, go shut the curtains in the library. Clara, take the children in there.”

  “Thanks.” Doc turned to Joseph and smiled. “I wasn’t sure how to handle that little situation.”

  “Isaac, bring some long tables in. We’ll set up school in the library for tomorrow. Mom can help Zaidee. When she tires, Mom will send her into the back room to rest.”

  Joseph glanced back at Doc. “Is that all right with you, Doc?”

  “I think it would be better than getting my head bit off by the lioness,” Doc said, and then he laughed.

  Zaidee straightened as best as she could. Taking small steps, she shuffled out the door and headed to the stairwell.

  ****

  Joseph followed Zaidee to the stairs. He carried her down to the bottom and set her firmly on the landing below. “There you go.”

  Children stood very still against the wall when Zaidee walked slowly into the room. She sat in a large chair at the desk, and the children lined up to gives hugs and kisses, and to tell her how much they’d missed her. She smiled at the children and waited until the last hug.

  “I’ve missed you all so much. Now, who wants to hear a story?” Little tiny hands raised high in the air.

  Clara took a small book from a shelf and handed it to Zaidee. Opening the book, Zaidee began to read. The children took seats on the floor surrounding her. Clara and Lola stood in the doorway. Fascination etched across the faces of the children as they hung on every word, every expression, and every movement Zaidee set into the story. Joseph sighed cheerfully at the sight.

  ****

  Pleased with the transition, Zaidee continued to read until suppertime. She tired herself out and was ready to go back to her room. She promised to eat lunch with the family the next day. Joseph let her climb a few stairs. When she paused, he scooped her up in his powerful arms and carried her to the top.

  “I’m so proud of you. Before long, you’ll be running up the stairs on your own,” Joseph said. Zaidee laughed. “What are you laughing at?”

  “The day I talked Clara and Lola into letting down our hair and running through the field.”

  “You did what?”

  Zaidee stopped laughing for the most part. “You should’ve seen Lola, she ran about halfway then she tired out, but she gave it her all. Clara, she was right beside me when we got to the end. Our hair was flying in the wind and we were laughing so hard by the tim
e we finished. It was so much fun…” Zaidee’s gaze flew to the window. “That was the day that man shot me.” She jumped from the bed and turned to Joseph. “He stood right there. His legs weren’t in the room, just his top half. He was in the window.”

  “Yes, we found a hole in the sheers, where he shot through them. We tracked him from the place Lola first spotted him to the rope tangled in the leaves below your window. I‘m sorry, I wasn‘t here to protect you like I promised I would.” Joseph ducked his head and ran a hand across his face.

  “What did you find out from your trip?”

  “Not enough. No one seemed to know the names of the murderers. And you’re not wanted by the police. All we have to go on is, the killers followed you here.”

  “Will they not stop at anything? I’m afraid I’ve put you in far more danger than you realize, Joseph.”

  “Isaac found a dead man behind his cabin. Whoever deposited that body there intended to frame you with that murder also. The deceased’s name was Harry Colburn. Did you know him?”

  “No, that name’s not familiar. As I told you before, I don’t know the names of the men after me. The only face I’ve seen is of the one who killed Emmett. The others had their backs to me.”

  “Mr. Lawrence disappeared. He got off the stage with us and headed for the sheriff’s office. Then you and Clara came face-to-face with him in the garden. We thought the body may have been his, but it wasn’t. Was he the one who shot you?”

  “No. The man who shot me had blond hair and was slender. He had a scar across his cheek, and his eyes were blue. I was surprised to find a stranger halfway in the window. If I would’ve had Clara’s gun, I would’ve put him on the ground.”

  “Do you know how to use one?”

  “Yes. Emmett taught me when we were young. Mama was mad as a hornet when she found out he taught me how to shoot. She was afraid I would turn into some female outlaw.” Zaidee paused to laugh.

  “That’s interesting. I was going to let you use mine. I may have to think about it now.” Joseph smiled as he watched the stars dance in her eyes.

  “Joseph,” she clasped her hands together behind her back, “I can’t let you go through with your plan. I can’t keep hiding here and placing you and your family and friends in this much danger. You’ve all been so good to me, and I’ll never forget any of you.”

  “Would you listen to me, Zaidee? I can’t let you run from here. When you leave here, it will be because you’re free and clear of all trouble and torment. By then, maybe I can convince you to marry me, and you won’t want to leave.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to leave. I said I must leave. You’re not going to marry me just to keep me here when there’s more at stake than my safety.”

  “Zaidee, I’m offering you a home, a family, a life of happiness with the benefits of protection.”

  “There’s still more at stake than the things you mention.”

  “This place is full of people who love you. Can’t you see that?”

  “I love all those people too. But that’s not the only kind of love I need, Joseph.”

  “What about me, Zaidee? I’m willing to give you time to learn to love me.”

  “Are you willing to love me back?”

  “What? I do love you. I’ve been telling you that for weeks now. I knew I loved you the first time I laid eyes on you. Before I saw your picture in the paper. I tried to get glimpses of you on the riverboat. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I followed you to the hotel. I had to make sure you would be safe. The pier isn’t a place for ladies to walk alone in the dark.”

  Zaidee sat on the bed. “You were on the riverboat? You’re the man in the shadows.”

  “I had been to a funeral. When I boarded the riverboat, there you were, lost, confused, running blindly. I tried to get up the nerve to talk to you. I guess I was kind of a coward. I didn’t want to be rejected.”

  She paused. “You love me?”

  “With my life, Zaidee. I’ve never been more serious about how I feel about you.”

  “I don’t understand why, but I’ll let you follow through with your plan. If this fails, I’ll leave.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Joseph’s plan fell into place. Everyone on the plantation dressed in black. All of Zaidee’s possessions were moved to Willowbend. The Solomon shut down, a wreath hung on the door, and people left to secure the plantation, dressed in black with long faces.

  Visitors to the family would be permitted, and strangers would be interviewed extensively to draw out suspects. The only people who knew the truth were the trusted people on the Solomon and Willowbend plantations. Word was sent to the sheriff, saying the woman named Flora Reese had died.

  Leroy brought a coffin in from the barn already filled with rocks, dirt, and Zaidee’s dress. Nailed shut, the coffin was placed in the foyer with a nameplate made of gold that read Flora Reese, rest in peace, born August 17, 1845 died August 8, 1865. Roses cut from the garden were tied with ribbons and placed on the lid.

  Joseph’s sisters, brothers, and their children arrived in style. Women walked around with handkerchiefs, dabbing at their eyes. Men tried to stay out of the way. Long faces plastered on every body. The feel of a real funeral replaced gaiety in the mansion.

  Food sat on long tables, and benches were brought in for friends and family. Town folk came and went, with everyone asked to sign a paper in the foyer. The sheriff and his deputies stopped by to pay their respects to the Solomon family and left.

  No outsiders were turned away. No strangers showed up that first day. Zaidee kept her thick black veil down to cover her hair and face. She was introduced as Flora’s aunt.

  Children didn’t have to pretend they were unhappy. They hated to walk around in the uncomfortable clothes and Joseph couldn’t blame them. They were unable to play in the dirt or chase each other around. They were miserable and made sure the adults were too.

  Joseph listened to the complaints of most of the farmhands. They would rather be working the fields than sitting around. They weren’t permitted to have any fun on their days off for this fake wake. It wasn’t hard for them to exhibit long faces.

  The ladies put on the best act of all. They cut onions, smashed them, and soaked their veils in the juice. Most found this an effective way to produce tears. When all the visitors left, the first thing to come off were the veils, which they placed in the pot of onion juice for the next night. They soaked some handkerchiefs in the juice for those who couldn’t tolerate veils.

  Joseph paid close attention to an endless number of visitors acquainted with the family. They lingered for hours, all expressing their concerns for the woman who had been murdered at the plantation.

  Reporters appeared from near and far and were questioned about how they had come to know Flora Reese. Most admitted not knowing her, but the familiar face of Zaidee Rogers had appeared in newspapers across the nation.

  “I suspect whoever shot Flora Reese made a mistake if they were after this person called Zaidee Rogers,” Joseph told reporters. “The picture of the lady in the papers was indeed Flora Reese and not that of Miss Rogers.”

  After another day of visitors and reporters, the whole plantation was down and out. The occupants grew sick of this plan and couldn’t wait for it to be over with. They were truly miserable, depressed, and grouchy. One more day for the funeral and if the murderer didn’t show up, they would make another plan to draw him out.

  The weather turned nasty, making the day even worse with the added gloom. It rained all night and half the day. Everyone was trapped inside the mansion. Joseph was the only one who saw any good coming of the plan. If the killer was somewhere around, he would show up.

  Before going to greet more visitors, Joseph turned to Zaidee. “I didn’t think to ask earlier but do you have any relatives we need to be aware of?”

  “No. My mother, father, and brother are all dead; my sister died before I was born. My grandparents died before my parents. I never
met any aunts, uncles, or cousins. I don’t ever remember anyone mentioning any either.” Zaidee ran to her trunk and dug out a book. She sat on the bed with Joseph beside her.

  “Is that your family history?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m not seeing any aunts, uncles, or any other relatives listed. My grandmother kept these records, and she would definitely have put all the names of those born into the family.”

  “What about the other side of the family?”

  “No worries on that one. My mother was an orphan. Her family was killed in the War of 1812. She was the only survivor, and a preacher and his wife took her in. They were an older couple and didn’t have any children of their own.”

  Zaidee tucked the book away and turned for the door. Joseph sat on the bed. “Joseph? What’s the matter?”

  “You said you were leaving if this plan fails. That will give me today and tomorrow to find out who the killer is. I don’t know what I’m going to do if you leave. I honestly don’t think I’m going to live through the heartbreak, I love you so much.”

  “I’ve thought about that too. I don’t think I’m capable of walking off and leaving the only man I’ve ever loved. You, this place, the children, your family, the friends. These are things I’ve grown to love more than life itself, and I believe I’d be leaving my life. I love you, and I would really like to stay.”

  Joseph lifted the veil from Zaidee’s face. Holding her cheeks, he kissed her, long and passionately. She kissed him back as their tongues entwined in a taste of pure ecstasy. Joseph wrapped his arms around Zaidee and kissed her longer, with more intensity, pouring his heart into every inch of her being.

  A knock on the door interrupted the kiss. Clara poked her head in. “There’s a stranger at the door. No one knows who he is and he says his name is Emmett Rogers. He’s come for the body of Zaidee Rogers.”

  Joseph and Zaidee walked down the stairs. Zaidee’s hand tightened on Joseph’s arm. He sensed the change in her and called Isaac to help her into the other room. He knew he had his killer.