The Raging Hearts: The Coltrane Saga, Book 2

by Patricia Hagan

  “Well, you’ve been busy nosing in my business, haven’t you?” Travis said.

  “Somebody has to look after you, you’re so goddurned stubborn. Always were. I’m going to find that nigra Jacob. I trust him because John Wright did. If he tells me that baby is yours, then I won’t have any doubts and you shouldn’t either.”

  “Kitty is married to McRae now. Let it be, Sam. Just stay out of it. We came here with a job to do. Let’s do it and get the hell out of here and head back to the bayou. There’s peace there.”

  He walked over and picked up a new bottle of whiskey, uncapped it and took a deep swallow.

  “You know, you drink more now than you ever did before,” Sam said quietly. “Are you trying to forget something?”

  “Yes. Everything. I wish you’d do the same.”

  “Tell me one thing. What would you do if you believed that boy was yours?”

  Travis did not have to think. “I’d take him away from McRae, you can believe that.”

  “And what about Kitty?”

  “To hell with her.”

  “Damn it, Travis, you aren’t being fair to the girl. Who knows what hell she went through when we left here a year ago last March?”

  “She did all right for herself,” he sneered, tipping the bottle to his lips again. “She married the richest man around. She got what she wanted. If she’d really loved me, she would’ve gone with me like I asked her to.”

  Sam watched silently as Travis took several more long swigs from the bottle, then said, “All right. You’re going to continue to be stubborn, so it’s up to me to prove that you’re wrong. That boy is yours, and you and Kitty still love each other.”

  “Forget it!” Travis sent that bottle smashing against the wall, then fell across the bed in a stupor. “Forget all of it. I wish to hell I’d never come to this goddamned town. I wish to hell I’d never seen those damned purple eyes.” Travis fell asleep.

  “You, my drunken friend, are going to learn the truth,” Sam said with determination. “And tomorrow, you’ll love those eyes. Just as you loved them yesterday. Just as you love them now. Only you’re too goddamned stubborn to admit it.”

  He hurried from the room. There was a lot to do and little time.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kitty opened heavy, swollen eyes to stare dizzily into the semidarkness of the room. Everything was hazy, spinning. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. The pain in her body began throbbing.

  Her breasts were burning. She started to move her hand to touch the tenderness there, and that is when she felt the shackles at each of her wrists. Gasping in terror, she tossed her head from side to side. Yes, her arms were stretched high above her head and shackled to the bedposts.

  She gazed downward, eyes moving along her naked body to her thighs, spread wide apart, and on down her limbs to see that her ankles were also fastened to the posts at the end of the bed.

  It had not been a nightmare. Corey had brought her here, to this wretched room, and he had thrown her upon the bed and stripped her naked, all the while cursing her for what she had done.

  “You have humiliated me in front of the whole town,” he had shrieked. “Everyone will know that Corey McRae’s wife went to Marshal Coltrane’s room and threw herself at him. But your scheme didn’t work, did it? He still won’t believe the brat is his, will he?

  “And I was so foolish as to let you betray me,” he had ranted on. “Where would you have been by the time I awoke this morning if Danton’s men hadn’t come to tell me my wife was in another man’s hotel room? You drugged me and my men, and then you persuaded Dulcie to help you get Hugo out of the way. Oh, you were clever, my darling, very clever, and it almost worked.”

  Kitty had been unable to speak. Staring up at him, seeing his angry eyes on fire and bulging, his whole body trembling with rage, she knew of no words to save her. It was done. Now she could only lie and watch and listen. And pray that no harm would come to her son. Hugo had snatched him from her as they’d entered the house, and she had heard his wails from the second floor as Corey dragged her on up to the third, to this torture chamber.

  “Dulcie has been taken away,” Corey had said as he rummaged in a wardrobe closet, returning with a small chest and a triumphant grin on his face. “I can’t have her around now that I know she cannot be trusted. I told Hugo to get rid of Addie, as well. I don’t know how you got into town, but I figure that outlaw Luther had a hand in it. Rance tells me all my guards were knocked out about the same time. Addie played a hand in it somewhere. So they’re gone now, my dear. All your nigra friends. It’s just you and me.”

  “My baby,” she had cried then, straining against the shackles that held her. “For God’s sake, Corey, do with me what you will but don’t harm my baby.”

  “Harm your baby?” He stopped unfastening his shirt to stare down at her incredulously. “Why, my sweet, loving wife, do you think I would harm our baby? He’s mine, too, you know. You have nothing to fear about him, as long as you don’t try anything foolish again. But that is nothing to worry about. You won’t have the opportunity. I won’t make the same mistake again. I think I will keep you right here, forever. I will spread the word, with Dr. Sims’s confirmation, of course, that you have suffered a nervous collapse. You have not been ‘just right’ since the birth of our son. You will be confined to bed, with someone to watch you at all times. Later, when I’ve taken care of Coltrane, and Danton and his men, you will have had time to realize how well off you are.”

  His laughter had been frightening. “Ah, my sweet, when you recover from your little nervous collapse, I will be the most powerful man in this state. And what a lovely portrait we will present to everyone, a man and his wife and his son, so loving and happy. And who knows? By then my own seed may be growing inside you. Then our family will be complete, won’t it?”

  Kitty had watched in horror as he opened the chest and began pulling out all sorts of devices she had never dreamed existed. “See this?” He held up a feathered object. “Nancy used to love this one. She said it drove her insane. I have every size you can imagine. I found these lovelies in a little shop in Paris that I had heard about. I became so captivated that I ordered everything they had to offer. Oh, you may find that a few will cause you a bit of distress, but you won’t mind. The overall ecstasy will more than compensate for any minor little discomfort. And quite frankly, my dear, I really don’t care if you do suffer this night. I intend to make you scream as punishment for what you tried to do this night—what you did do! It will take a while for me to live down your antics this time, but people will understand when they hear you are tetched.”

  He was naked, standing before her, wearing a horrendous object over his manhood. He moved to get on the bed, straddling her. She could only lie there helplessly as he violated her brutally and mercilessly. Her cries of protest and pain only served to excite him more, and she was grateful when the blackness finally took over and sweet oblivion carried her away.

  The minutes passed. She tried to sleep but could not. Where was John? Was he being cared for as he should be? And what of Dulcie and Addie? She prayed they would not suffer.

  If only Travis had believed her. But he had thrown her back into the arms of the man she feared. He had rejected his own son. Dear God, hadn’t he ever loved me? Why was it so easy for him to believe the worst?

  Slowly, she began to seethe. Travis was to blame for all of this. Had he not gone away with the troops, they would have married. He had left her behind, carrying his child, alone, no one to turn to.

  And the love in her heart began turning to hate.

  Suddenly she heard footsteps coming down the hall. Her body tensed. There was the sound of a key scraping in the lock, and she threw her head quickly to one side and pretended to be asleep. Perhaps he would go away.

  The door clicked shut. She held her breath. Was he there in the room with her, staring at her naked body, becoming aroused and trying to decide which of those despicable toy
s he would use now?

  “She’s still asleep.”

  Corey’s voice was very faint. Her eyes flashed open. The room was empty. She was about to murmur a prayer of thanksgiving when she heard Rance’s guttural laugh from the other side of the door.

  “Really worked on her good, huh, boss? When you get your women in this room, they always get fixed up, don’t they? What do you have in there, anyway? I’d love to know what’s behind that door—”

  “None of your damn business,” Corey snapped. “Now, you listen to me. I want that widow taken care of tonight. I want her scared out of her wits. This time we’ll make sure Danton’s men look responsible, and you’d better not mess up. Do you understand?”

  “Right. I’ve already got two men in ambush for Frank Dawson. Everybody knows he rides with Danton. When we get through with that woman, we’ll fire her shotgun once, make it look like she killed one of her attackers. When the marshals get there, they’ll find Dawson dead, and that will connect Danton in a way he can’t get out of.”

  Kitty’s mouth opened in a silent scream. What were they planning to do to poor Mattie Glass now?

  “I don’t want that woman killed. You make sure of it,” Corey barked. “But I do want those boys of hers hurt bad enough that she’ll be willing to sell out and go where it’s safe, to make sure they don’t get killed next time. You make that clear to her, understand?”

  “Yeah, I know. The more land you get, the more power you’ve got. We’ll eventually run Danton and his bunch out of this county.”

  “Exactly. With every parcel I take over, he becomes weaker and weaker. I want him out of the way. I intend to be the power in these parts, with no competition. I’ve worked too hard and planned too long for anything to go wrong now.”

  “What if Danton won’t clear out? Have you ever thought about that? What if he just sits back and holds on to what he’s already got?”

  There was a pause. Kitty strained to hear, knowing it was very important that she know everything that was said.

  “We’ll have to kill him,” Corey said with finality. “I don’t want him around. He controls too many men. And that whole damned Klan group is growing. Not just here, but all over. I won’t have it here. I’m going to stop it before it gets any bigger.”

  “Look, boss, I’m not taking up for Danton or the Klan, and we both know I fought for the North, so I ain’t got much sympathy for Johnny Rebs in the first place. But if I was in their boots, I’d probably want to get an underground movement going, too. I’d never admit the war was over and the South was whipped. And the South ain’t going to admit it. Not a hundred years from now. So they’ve got to do something to strike back at the land-grabbers and carpetbaggers. No offense!” He paused to chuckle. “And at the ‘uppity niggers’, as they call ’em. So what I’m saying is that you’re smart, real smart, to stop the Klan from getting any stronger here. Get ’em out. All of ’em. You be the power in this part of the country. You got enough money for us to hire the best guns around, haven’t you?”

  “You know I have.”

  “Then we’ll hire them. We’ll have an army all our own. Who knows? You may be Governor of this damn state one day. Now don’t you worry about a thing. My men will be back any time now saying Frank Dawson is dead. Just as soon as they do, we’ll ride on the widow Glass. It’s almost dark now.”

  Almost dark, Kitty thought in panic. She had slept through the day. Where was John? Oh, God, if she could only free herself and find a way to warn Mattie. At least, she thought with a fierce wave of pride, she still had the will to fight back.

  She looked about the room. It was becoming darker. Besides the bed, the only furnishings were a wardrobe closet and a bedside commode. The drapes were very thick, to keep out the light and muffle the screams that echoed in the dismal place.

  Without realizing it, Kitty had been straining at her bonds, and only when she felt the smarting and the slow oozing of blood trickling down her arms did she realize just how fiercely she had been struggling.

  More voices. Lifting her head from the pillow, Kitty could barely make out Rance’s excited whisper. “Did you get him? Is he dead?”

  “No problem.” A strange monotone, unfamiliar. The man speaking sounded amused. “We just waylaid him, and bang! He’s dead, all right. We got him out at the bunkhouse, putting one of those white Klan outfits on him.”

  “Good.” It was Corey’s voice, and she could almost see him smiling and sighing with relief. She fought the impulse to retch. They had murdered someone. Next, they would do something terrible to Mattie and her sons. And she was helpless to stop it.

  “We’d better get moving now,” Rance was saying. “Boss, soon as we get back, I’ll report straight to you. It shouldn’t take long. Not over an hour. Two at the most.”

  “I’ll be in here.”

  Kitty winced.

  Feet scurried down the hall. Again the key turned in the lock and though her eyes were closed, she could feel him staring down at her. Through her lids, the room became brighter. He had lit the lantern that sat on top of the wardrobe closet.

  She felt seeking fingertips trail up her belly, pinch one nipple almost painfully. Then he said, “Wake up, my darling. I’m going to unshackle you for a short while so you can attend to your personal needs. I have a robe for you. Hugo will be bringing a supper tray shortly. You need nourishment. We have a long night of pleasure ahead. I have so many toys yet to show you.”

  He removed a key from his vest pocket and inserted it into the lock of the shackle on her left wrist. “Ahh, you’ve been struggling. I see you’ve cut yourself. You shouldn’t resist me, Kitty, and all this wouldn’t be necessary.” He unlocked her right wrist. “There. Now doesn’t that feel much better?”

  She rubbed her arms, grimacing at the touch of the tender flesh. He was unlocking her ankles. When she was free, she grabbed at a quilt to cover her nakedness, drawing herself up against the headboard, knees against her chest.

  “Now get up and move around. Stretch a bit. I’ll get your robe for you, and then I’ll leave you alone, if you wish. I can’t allow you to leave this room, however, not for many, many weeks. I’m sure you understand why.”

  “I want to see my baby,” she said in a short, clipped voice. “I want to make sure he’s all right.”

  “Oh, he’s fine.” He waved his hand flippantly. “I have a new servant looking after him. He cries for his mommy because you have spoiled him terribly, but that is more punishment for your behavior last night, Kitty. Knowing your child cries out for you, and you cannot answer.”

  Her teeth were gritting together, upper lip curled back in a snarl, her voice guttural and thick. “I loathe you, Corey McRae. I loathe and despise you and long for the day I can spit on your grave.”

  A flash went through his eyes, then disappeared as he smiled, shaking his head from side to side as though mustering the patience to deal with a wayward child. “Kitty, Kitty, why must you continue to fight me? Don’t you know I have won? What must I do? Take the lash to your sweet, tender flesh? I don’t want to do that. And I don’t like to think I am the sort to vent my anger upon a helpless child. So don’t force me to do anything unpleasant to little John.”

  Her heart was pounding. He would do it. She knew he would. Any man who would have a helpless widow raped, her children beaten, had no conscience. She had to hold her temper.

  “Good. I see in your eyes that you realize you have no other choice except to bend to my will.” He nodded his approval. “Now, you get up and tend to your needs, and I’ll get you a lovely robe, so that when Hugo brings in your supper tray you will be all right.”

  She did not move. “When may I see my baby to know he is all right?”

  He sucked in his lower lip, studied her between narrowed lids. After several moments of silence, he said, “Tomorrow. I can understand your anxiety. So, if you behave yourself tonight and show me pleasure, I promise you that tomorrow I will have your son brought in to you for a short whi
le. You can see for yourself that he is being well cared for. And, if you continue to cooperate, you will see him again soon.”

  He touched her cheek with his fingertips, and this time she did not flinch in revulsion. “You’re an intelligent woman, Kitty. Foolish, yes, but you do have superior intelligence. I feel quite confident that you are going to come around.”

  He stepped away, toward the wardrobe closet. Kitty was about to step from the bed, the quilt still wrapped about her, when the air was split with the sound of gunfire.

  “What the hell.” Corey twisted away from the closet, sprang to the drapes and flung them open. “That’s here! On my land.”

  He was almost to the door when someone began pounding on it. “Mr. McRae, you better come quick.” That was Hugo’s frightened, anxious voice. “There’s trouble, big trouble.”

  Corey flung the door open, and the Negro stood there in the illuminated hall, eyes milky white and bulging with terror. They could still hear guns firing steadily, and now and then the anguished screams of men hit.

  “It’s Danton’s men. Bound to be,” Hugo was saying. “Rance and the others haven’t had time to leave. They must have been waiting.”

  Kitty was forgotten as Corey ran from the room, yelling at Hugo to get his guns, round up the servants, anyone who could shoot. “What in the hell went wrong?” He was cursing as his voice disappeared down the stairway along with their thundering footsteps.

  Kitty leaped from the bed, flinging open the doors to the closet. A robe hung-there, and she grabbed it, pulling it on her trembling body. Then she fled from the room, plunging down the hall, hands sliding along the railing as her feet moved rapidly down the stairs to the second floor. She ran all the way to the nursery and pushed the door open, only to scream at the sight of the empty cradle. John was not there!