"It's not over yet," Louisa assured Emma, and quickly related the scant information Easton had given her.
"Surely Easton was the informer."
"I'm certain of it. But why didn't Luther Dobson come to me about Aaron? He surely knows I―you don't suppose he's not heard himself?"
"My God, do you think they'd hang him? After all, he can prove he's been sent here to investigate, not participate in the conspiracy―which William didn't know, of course."
Louisa turned pale. "Wouldn't you think this new general we've heard of would know about Aaron's activities?" Both women were silent, staring at each other helplessly. "If not, he has no means to prove who he is because I have his papers, Emma." Louisa then began to pace the room. "I'll take them to Luther now, and he can send them to the proper authorities. Have Manuel saddle Coffee again," she called to Emma as she dashed to her room.
The trunks Loo Kim had packed in Monterey to be carried by ship had arrived safely in San Diego long before Louisa had. When they arrived in San Diego, Carmen had unpacked Louisa's possessions carefully, but Aaron's papers, which Louisa had discovered in the secret compartment where she had hoped to find her precious necklace, were still hidden there, unless Louisa's memory played tricks on her. While in Monterey, the last thing she had done, before locking the trunks, was tuck Aaron's leather-covered identity papers into that special hiding place.
Now Louisa collected the keys to her trunks, and ran to the storage shed, unlatching the bolt from the heavy door. The heat inside the shed was intense but she hardly noticed, hastily searching for her baggage within the dim interior. When she found the trunk she wanted, she opened it immediately, her fingers finding the leather envelope as soon as she probed the compartment. Louisa's heart was beating furiously, and now she breathed a little easier. Why? Why hadn't Luther come to her with information about Aaron? And why, come to think of it, why was she so upset now? Aaron had been an animal the last time she saw him. Why should she be in such a state over him?
Louisa was frowning, whether over her thoughts of Aaron, or at herself for her great and obvious concern for him, she couldn't say. "He doesn't deserve to hang for treason," she said aloud finally, and continued her haste, leaving the shed door gaping open, mounting Coffee quickly as Manuel held the animal still. "I'll be home again in a few hours," and she hurried Coffee to the harbor.
Louisa had not been into town for some time. In fact in the last few weeks she'd not even considered mingling with the few townspeople she knew, for there had been a severe outbreak of fever in the county. Louisa thought it best not to see anyone outside the compound, and no one within had contracted the fever. Louisa feared most for Rachel, knowing the greatest number of deaths had been babies and small children, though a few adults had died as well.
A watery-eyed sailor sat propped in the shade against the door of Luther's office. "Excuse me," Louisa said, impatiently reaching over him for the door's handle.
"Ain't here."
"Oh?"
"Ain't been here for days. Since he went out to his place east. Didn't feel well, and he left. Guess he got sick out there."
"Didn't anyone bother to find out?"
"Everybody's sick," and he coughed violently as if to prove his 'statement. "Not even unloading much. And nobody gives a damn neither, that's how sick they are."
Louisa wasted no further time conversing with the man, doubling back to the river and heading east, afraid of what she'd find once she reached her destination. She felt a tight knot growing in her stomach. Something was wrong, she was certain, otherwise Luther would have informed her of Aaron's capture. Her thoughts raced on just as Coffee did. Perhaps Easton had informed, but Aaron had eluded the trap which had no doubt been set for him. Of course, that must be it! And here she was very upset for nothing!
Louisa slowed Coffee's pace a little. "Nearly breaking your legs for no reason," she said, patting Coffee's neck. Aaron was, after all, a very elusive man, she recalled. How well she knew it. It occurred to her he was probably sitting somewhere quite cozy right now, not the least bit endangered. Yet she continued to travel east, and her pace was not really leisurely.
When Louisa first saw Dobson's adobe house, there was no sign of life, but she tied Coffee securely in front of the house and knocked on the door. There was no answer. She went several yards behind the house to the lean-to, seeing Luther's wagon beside it, and his horse tethered on the far side, in the shade.
Louisa went back to the house quickly, and pounded on the door this time, letting herself in when there was no answer, nearly retching in the close rank air that assaulted her. She squinted her eyes in the darkness, and found Luther alive, but barely so.
"Luther, Luther," she called at him sympathetically. He opened his eyes, appearing to focus on her briefly, then shut them almost immediately. Louisa pulled back dust-thick curtains from one of the two windows in the room, and strained to push open the window on its hinges. In the greater light, Louisa searched for matches and lit the lamp on Luther's small table, to be even more appalled by the condition of the man who lay very ill before her.
Louisa ran outside again and with great effort primed the pump, filling a bucket with water. She ripped up one of her petticoats and tried to soothe the man's fever and wipe away some of the foul debris from his body. She helped him drink, and tried to make him comfortable. Luther babbled at her incoherently, from time to time calling her Dorothy, pleading with her not to leave him.
Her heart sank as she listened and tried to help him, worried that there was nothing she could do, and, if so, nothing she could do for Aaron. In the stinking house, Louisa began again to fear the worst, rapidly succumbing to depression.
Luther lapsed unconscious or slept again, Louisa wasn't sure. While she tried to decide what to do, she rifled through some of his papers, hoping to get some clue about Aaron's situation, but all she found were papers of little significance, and nothing pertaining to the conspiracy. "Of course, he wouldn't leave anything important lying about!" she said crossly. "Luther! Luther!" she called to him when he opened his eyes again. "What about Aaron?" she demanded, then shook her head furiously. "What about Marshall Hudson? Tell me, Luther!"
"Dorothy. You're here," he smiled at her weakly, closing his eyes very quickly again.
"Oh, damn! Luther!" she cried to the unconscious man, putting her head in her hands for a few minutes, resting her elbows on the table. "Now what?" she asked angrily, desperately fearing there was no hope for either Luther or Aaron. Then she stood and partially closed the window she'd opened, and gently covered Luther with another blanket. "I'll send someone to look after you," she promised to the sleeping, unmoving form, and left the property even more quickly than she'd come.
Chapter One Hundred-One
LOUISA had no idea what to do next. Who could she turn to? Aaron had said Luther Dobson would help her if she ever needed someone. Now Luther was in need himself.
As soon as she returned home Louisa dispatched Anna Sutton and Manuel to Luther's aid. They would remain with him as long as necessary, and Manuel would come for her as soon as Luther's head seemed clear of fever.
But what if he didn't recover? Louisa felt totally helpless. Her thoughts ran on endlessly about Aaron. All day she was swept with familiar, loving sensations, to be very quickly brought back to what she regarded as brutal reality. She felt the violence Aaron had used against her keenly at times, and the sting of his occasionally vicious, low words gave Louisa a clear idea of his opinion of her.
Late in the day, Louisa sat down to rest, without thought reaching for something to ease her thirst, pouring a glass of bourbon. She tried to sort her thoughts out, pouring another drink when the first was gone and no solution to her problems became apparent.
Emma Hudson was no help to her as the two women dawdled over a very late meal that would have been served at midday in ordinary circumstances. Emma said nothing of Louisa's choice of beverage, but Louisa was not oblivious to Emma's anxious glances
. "Don't worry," she wanted to say, but didn't. "That's all over now," she reassured the woman silently.
Finally, Louisa pushed her plate away as if in disgust, and she rang for Carmen, who appeared instantly.
"Carmen, where is Alfredo?"
Carmen raised her eyebrows. "Alfredo, señora?" Louisa nodded. "I am not certain." She waited for another question from Louisa. "My sister, his madre, should know," she offered finally.
"Find out immediately, and let me know. Also who is the very slender hand we have working here―the man about my size?"
Carmen wrinkled her brow. "Michael Brown?"
Louisa shrugged. "I'm sure I don't know. But get me some of his clothes―pants, shirts, a hat, and a heavy jacket. Give him money to replace whatever you take. Then send the foreman to me."
"Si, señora."
"What are you thinking, Louisa," Emma demanded as Carmen left the room. "I'm thinking there must be something I can do."
"But what?"
"I don't know," she said, rising from the table. "One minute I can barely sit still wanting to do something. Then I remember the last time I saw Aaron, and I'm not as eager to know his fate...." Louisa's voice trailed off. "Perhaps, it would be best if it has ended as Easton said." Louisa closed her eyes, hoping to stop the tears that glistened on her lashes, and Emma knew her last remarks were very much a lie.
Then the dining-room door swung open and Carmen entered the room with a bundle of men's clothes, just as Louisa requested. "I have sent someone to my sister for news of Alfredo. Señor Billy waits to see you, also. And so does la nina," she said, motioning toward the sound of a fussy baby.
"Emma?" Louisa said, and the woman hastened to her granddaughter, with Louisa following her from the room to greet Señor Billy, the man who oversaw the work within the compound. Louisa quickly led him outside again, and went directly toward the barn. "I need the very best horse we have, the one with the greatest endurance―actually, I'll probably need two of that description."
"We've excellent stock, probably some of the best horseflesh in the county―it's a prejudice of mine."
"Good! And a packhorse, as well. I want you to provision the packhorse for a least a week of heavy travel―nothing fancy, but adequate. Understand?"
"Of course."
"Have them ready by daybreak."
He nodded, and began to carry out Louisa's requests the moment she turned away from him to race back to the house where she grabbed the clothes Carmen had just collected for her. She looked for Carmen in the kitchen and found her mulling over the half-eaten remains of lunch. "Señora, you must eat better."
"I will, Carmen, but, for now, get a needle and some heavy dark thread, and come with me."
Carmen eyed the men's clothes a moment, then followed her mistress who flew down the hallway. By the time she reached her door, Louisa had most of the buttons on the front of her dress undone, and once inside her room, was undressed very quickly. First she tried on the shirts, and Carmen noted how much to decrease the sleeves to make them manageable, then the pants. Their length was basically all right, but there were several inches to spare in the waistband. "Let everything else in the house go, Carmen. These must be ready for me at daybreak."
"Si, señora."
As Carmen finished with dressmaker's pins, Louisa opened her wardrobe and chose one conventional change of clothes and folded it carefully. "Bundle these and take them to Señor Billy." Carmen nodded. "I'm going to rest now. If Manuel comes back, come and get me instantly. Otherwise, let me sleep. I won't have dinner. Just leave a tray of something in the parlor. I'll eat when I wake up."
When Carmen left her, Louisa at first lay on her bed very wakeful but eventually she slept heavily for several hours. When she woke Louisa found Emma still up and sitting in the parlor. The women said little to each other while Louisa ate from the tray Carmen had left for her. When she finished, she poured herself another drink and stared thoughtfully at the needlework Emma pursued wordlessly.
Now that she was rested, Louisa was both compelled and hesitant about her plans, and she wondered if it could ever be different where Aaron was concerned.
Her hastily made plans seemed to be falling into place perfectly, and she felt almost as if she had no control over them. When she woke, Carmen informed Louisa that her nephew, Alfredo, was working for Eduardo Diaz, one of the few people Louisa knew and liked in the small community. He would help her however he could, she was certain, and word had already been sent for Alfredo to come to the compound. He would likely arrive by midnight. By morning, escorted by Carmen's fierce-looking nephew, Louisa hoped to ride north to San Francisco.
The papers she would carry with her would free Aaron, and with his mission finished, she would be done with him forever. In this respect Louisa's outlook was hopeful. Why then, did she feel so uncertain?
Louisa poured herself another small glass of bourbon, then began to sort through the clothes Carmen had altered so very efficiently. She chose a shirt, and a pair of pants, and the jacket, and set them aside, calling Carmen to take the rest to Señor Billy. "Have him pack these with my other things," she said impatiently.
Carmen only nodded, but cast a worried glance at Louisa before she left the room. Louisa noted the servant's look of concern while she finished the last of her drink, and smiled to soften her command. "Good night; Carmen," she added with a faint, but warm smile. She also bid goodnight to Emma. "I'll see you in the morning," she said as she left the room on her way to look in on Rachel once more.
It was late and Rachel was already asleep for the night. She'd not seen her mother the usual number of hours today, and Louisa missed her. She found it difficult to believe she would be leaving Rachel by choice once again. "I must," Louisa whispered in the dark, stroking the child's satin-soft cheek. "I love you, little one. I won't be gone long, this time," she said, kissing Rachel's slightly damp forehead, gently pushing soft blond curls away from her little face. "Whose child are you?" Louisa asked reflectively of no one, startled by her own question. The day's events were more upsetting than she'd realized, she mused, peering thoughtfully at the beautiful sleeping child. But soon, she hoped, she would have a satisfactory answer to her questions. All of them.
Chapter One Hundred-Two
LOUISA dozed in her bed, fully dressed until Carmen came to get her. "Alfredo is here, señora," she said. Quickly Louisa made her arrangements with Carmen's nephew, specifically wanting him to accompany her on the trail. He was an enormous, fiercelooking man, half-Mexican and half-Sandwich Islander, the latter accounting for his enormity. His size and apparent, but deceptive, ferocity were sufficient reasons for making him desirable as a companion, but he also knew the route they would travel as well as he knew the trails in San Diego County. A man from the Hudson compound would be selected by Señor Billy to accommodate Eduardo Diaz in Alfredo's absence, and Louisa sighed as she shut her door for the last time that night. Her plans were made and final.
Yet she was nagged by a feeling that refused to go away: Why should I do this? It's none of my business, after all. I've not been kept informed. My position in all of this affair was made clear from the beginning. I was only an ornament for pleasure and not much else. Aaron knew where his papers were. If he needed them, he'd have sent for them. But did he know, she wondered. The last time he'd seen them, she'd tossed them in his face when she confronted him about the necklace he'd given Marguerite.
Louisa burned again with fury as she thought about her necklace. Aaron had never offered her an explanation nor an apology for his actions, and it was his arrogance that made her most furious. Aaron had always presumed too much in their relationship, she thought. "You are an arrogant bastard," she muttered aloud. Perhaps it had been his downfall.
Louisa poured herself another drink, suddenly seeing Emma's face in her mind's eye as she did so. Tonight Louisa had seen the faint lines of worry on the woman's face turn to deeper ones. She'd seen Emma watch as she poured herself small but frequent glasses of bourb
on, consuming them like the veteran she was. "Thank you for sparing me the lecture I deserve," Louisa now sighed in the dark.
She sat without lighting a lamp, staring into the so familiar room, remembering the first night she came into it with Aaron, and how fearful she'd been, and how very soon she entered it by choice. Lately, though, it had been very haunted and lonely.
As it often was, the room tonight was lit only by moonlight, every object having an unearthly soothing brilliance, now exaggerated in Louisa's eyes by the effects of alcohol. Louisa was at that stage where the world looks slightly better than it really is, the place she tried to stay when he drank. Louisa stared at the weighted crystal decanter sitting within easy reach, knowing she could sustain the plateau where she now languished for hours, perhaps days, maybe weeks―at least, she could try. But eventually she would have to descend, "crawl," she said aloud, the truth only slightly jarring the beautiful night.
A breeze stirred and drifted over her, momentarily cooling the ever-present fever she had spent so much time denying, and now tried to drown in bourbon. But the sudden breeze only reminded her how Aaron sometimes playfully tried to cool her heat and how his efforts to do so had failed as well.
In spite of herself, Louisa smiled at the sometimes silly things they had done together, forgetting, again, her vows to put her memories of him away forever. She even smiled in the darkness; and remembered how she laughed at him while he insisted he could cool her fever by blowing gently along the curves and hollows of her body when, after making love, her h.eat would linger. She would thrash about the bed trying to get comfortable, kicking off the covers, opening a terrace door. Aaron would capture and hold her down, and talk about her hot blood, blowing his cool breath across her skin at her throat, dipping his tongue between her breasts, then licking each nipple slowly, descending to her belly. When he finished, her temperature was much higher, but he always managed to distract her from it.
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