The night air turned chilly, and Kitty hugged her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly about her legs. It would be the longest night of her life.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Kitty opened her eyes slowly. Shivering in the early morning chill, she wrapped her arms about her shoulders. And then she saw it again—Blue Bayou. The foggy mist rising up from the river, the moss-draped trees, the reverent stillness of the silent woods and swamps, all shrouded in a soft blue haze. It was ethereal. Kitty was awed.
But then she was wide awake. She knew it was time to move. There was no time to lose. Dear God, she had not meant to fall asleep.
“Hello, Kitty.”
He was sitting on the porch railing, knees apart, hands folded between. A blue man, she thought dizzily. A handsome, strangely smiling, blue man. “Oh, no…” Her hand flew to her throat.
“Oh, yes.” He continued to smile. “Did you really think you could slip up on me, Kitty? You seem to have forgotten a lot of things. I have instincts about people. I can smell them around me. It’s a special sense I have, and if I didn’t have it, I would’ve been dead long ago. I’m surprised you didn’t remember that. And don’t reach for that gun you had tucked in your trousers. I’ve already relieved you of it.”
She began to tremble. “How long have you known I was here?”
“I knew when you first came up the ladder. When you didn’t come on inside, I figured you were going to wait till just before dawn. How do you like Blue Bayou? Beautiful, isn’t it? Few people ever experience such a sight. Now you can see why this place can crawl right into your heart and stay. It’s another world, untouched by all the ugliness in the one you came from.”
Slowly she got to her feet, anger giving her the strength she needed. “Travis, I came to take my baby home. You had no right to kidnap him.”
“No?” He raised an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in that insolent smile. “I had every right, lovely lady. He’s my son.”
“I brought him to you and tried to tell you that, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“After all you had done? Why should I believe anything you tell me? But now I’ve got my son. So you can go back to North Carolina and sucker some other man. Sam told me you had Jerome Danton with you.”
“He’s gone. So is Sam. There’s no one left but me, and I don’t intend to leave without John.”
“You’re in my territory now, Kitty. Your hired guns found out they didn’t have a chance against me, so how do you think you’re going to fare? I won’t shoot you. I’ve killed a lot of men, but never a woman. But I promise you this, you won’t take my boy away from me. Now, I’ll do the hospitable thing and invite you inside for a cup of coffee, and then I’ll take you to the main road myself, to make sure a gator or a moccasin doesn’t get you. It’s dangerous in these parts when you don’t know your way around. It’s dangerous even when you do. So let’s go inside. We’ll be on our way as soon as Malah gets here.”
“Malah?” she echoed, stunned by his calm certainty.
“The old Creole woman who looks after John while I’m off fishing. She’ll be here in about an hour or so.”
He moved lithely from the railing, his feet not making a sound as they touched the floor. His fingers closed in a steely grip around her elbow. As she looked up into his eyes, she was startled to see that in the strange predawn light they, too, were blue, instead of the smoky-gray color she had once loved.
Roughly, he jerked her down the side and around to the front porch, all the way to the door. She was flung inside. Looking about, Kitty took in the crude but comfortable furnishings. There was one corner for cooking and eating, with a small wood stove and a handmade table. The floor was covered with a woven reed matting. Her gaze took in the wide bed, the roughhewn tables and chairs. And then she saw the wooden box in a corner, and she yanked out of Travis’s grasp to run quickly across the floor.
John lay on his side, sleeping soundly, his thumb in his mouth. Tears stung her eyes. Except for being a bit chubbier, he was the same. “My baby,” she whispered, arms reaching out for him.
“No,” Travis said harshly in a low voice, grabbing her and spinning her about to face him. “Don’t wake him up, Kitty. Not now. You’ll only make things worse when you leave without him.”
“He cries for me, doesn’t he?” she said accusingly. “I know he does. That’s why Corey had him taken to one of the slave cabins, so I wouldn’t hear him crying for me. And even after all this time, he hasn’t stopped, has he? Oh, Travis, how can you be so cruel? It doesn’t matter if you hate me, but don’t take that hatred out on our child. Can’t you see what you’re doing to him? Do you despise me so much you would let an innocent baby suffer because of it?”
He had been staring at her intensely, his jaw twitching. Suddenly he was scooping her into his arms and walking toward the bed.
“Travis, what do you think you are doing?” she protested, stunned. “Put me down.”
He laid her gently on the bed, then lowered himself to pin her body beneath his. Brushing her hair from her face with a tenderness she found surprising, he whispered, “Kitty, I want to tell you something. I never wanted a woman like I wanted you. From the first time I saw you, I knew I had to have you. Oh, I fought it. You’ll never know how damned hard I did fight it. I refused to believe I could love any woman. Sam saw it before I did, and he tried to tell me, but I laughed at him. But he was right. I did love you. Maybe I still do, but you’ve done too much, Kitty, for me to ever trust you again. I’d be scared to turn my back on you.”
Wriggling in his arms, she snapped, “I don’t want you to love me, you pompous ass! All I want is to take my baby and get out of here.”
“You aren’t going to take that boy, Kitty. You can just get that out of your head right now. He’s here, and he’s going to stay here.”
“You think this is any place to raise a child?”
“I was raised here.”
“Yes, and look how you turned out! An animal, a savage! You think I want that for my son? I want him to have the best. I can give it to him now. Can’t you see that? You’re selfish, Travis. You don’t care about him. You never cared about me.”
He laughed, a deep, husky laugh, and his gaze upon her was warm. The blue was not here in the cabin, Kitty realized, and his eyes were smoky gray, still fringed with thick, dusty lashes. Her body was starting to tingle, and she hated it for betraying her. He always did have this effect on her. She was weak, and he knew it.
His lips were so close she could feel them brushing against hers as he spoke. “We had some good times together, whether we loved each other or not, didn’t we? Seeing you in that old Reb uniform”—he chuckled—“brings back a lot of memories, Kitty. Nights spent on pine needle beds, hours when we were locked together as tight as a man and woman can get.”
He was pressed tightly against her, and the familiar longing began to burn in her. She cursed herself.
“Oh, honey, it was good,” he murmured. And then his lips were closing over hers, warm, possessive, his big hand cupping her face, holding her still as his mouth worked hungrily. His tongue darted between her lips, touching hers, and she could not suppress the satisfied sigh that rippled through her body. His hand moved to cup her breast gently, squeezing possessively.
Kitty told herself this was wrong, but her body was crying out for the familiar passion that it knew only Travis could satisfy. Nimble fingers worked at the buttons of her shirt, and then her breasts were tumbling forth into his eager hands. As he lowered his face, she caressed his soft, dark hair, moaning out loud as his teeth bit gently into one taut nipple. He began to suck hungrily, at the same time she felt her trousers being worked down over her writhing hips.
She could only succumb to the hot fever that was consuming her body. Powerless, helpless, she could do nothing but moan as he worked on her body, igniting fires that had never entirely burned out, but had been smoldering all this time.
“It was always g
ood, wasn’t it, Kitty?” He lifted his eyes to stare into her face. “God, you’re beautiful. If only you hadn’t been such a conniving little—” And then he trembled, clamping teeth upon her breast once again, this time so fiercely she cried out in pain. At the same time, he was moving on top of her, spreading her thighs with his knee, then mounting her.
She wanted to fight back but could not. Her body was betraying her now just as it had so many times in the past. Travis possessed this strange hold over her, and she was powerless to control the gnawing hunger that stripped her of her will.
He filled her with himself. “You can stay here,” he whispered against her breast, lying very still, all of him inside her now. “You can stay here and tend to John like Malah does, only you’ll be my woman. I’ll satisfy you every night of your life, Kitty.”
“No,” she whimpered, twisting beneath him, struggling for the self-control she knew would not come. “Never that way, Travis. Never.”
Almost viciously, he began to move his hips to and fro, plunging in and out, slamming her against the bed. “Then we’ll just have it this one last time to remember for always,” he ground out as he raised up to press a thumb into each side of her pelvis, fingers gripping her backside to hold her firmly beneath his assaulting thrusts. Again and again he pummeled into her.
Kitty felt the rising cry of her body as her nails dug instinctively into the strong, firm muscles of his back. It was coming, that strange, wonderful feeling that only Travis could make happen. It was coming, and she could not stop it, and suddenly it was there, and she was clinging to him, sobbing aloud with the wonder and joy of it all. The cry of ecstasy could not be suppressed as the wild sweetness engulfed her. She felt him reach his own height, the moans of pleasure escaping his lips.
And then he was gathering her close, rolling on his side once again, holding her tightly against his body. “It could never be this good with anyone else,” he said quietly. “There were women before and after, but never one like you, Kitty.”
She lay motionless, the passion subsiding and being replaced once again by cold anger. Even now, she thought indignantly, he could speak of others.
“I hate you, Travis,” she said, quietly and simply. “And if you are through with me, I would like to take my baby and go.”
He raised his head, that crooked smile on his lips once again. “You aren’t taking the boy, Kitty. Now, you can just get that through that pretty head of yours once and for all. You can stay and be my woman, and tend to my son. I’d like having you in my bed every night.”
“You go to hell.” She tried to slap his smugly smiling face, but he caught her wrist, gripping it so painfully she winced.
“I told you once, Kitty, you’ll never slap me again. Now don’t make me be rough with you. If you won’t accept my terms, then the thing for you to do is just get the hell out of here.”
She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. There had to be a way. She had come too far to fail now, and there would never be another chance. “All right,” she said finally, deciding to go along and play his little game until she could work out a plan. “May I have that cup of coffee first?”
“Of course.” He moved from the bed, straightening his clothes. “I always like to oblige my ladies, especially you, Kitty. You’re the best.”
She bit her tongue. Now was not the time to quarrel. And his lovemaking had been good, even though she still cursed her body for its betrayal. She would always remember this time, and all the other times when he had made her glory in her womanhood.
He moved to the stove, and she watched as he got a fire going, then set a kettle to boiling. Her eyes darted around the room. Her heart leaped into her throat as she saw it—the rifle propped beside the door. No, she wouldn’t shoot him in the back. She could never do that. But she could bring the rifle butt crashing down over his head, to knock him unconscious while she took John and made her getaway. And once she was back in New Orleans, she would hire her bodyguards. He would no longer be a threat.
Quietly, she moved from the bed. His back was turned, and he was talking about the coffee, saying something about how he hoped it would not be too strong for her, but she should remember the strange concoctions they’d been forced to drink during the war.
Without making a sound, Kitty picked up the rifle by the barrel, butt end up. Travis never suspected a thing, for he was intent on making coffee. She was able to sneak right up behind him, then, with every ounce of strength she had in her, she brought the rifle down in a slanted arch, striking him across the back of his head. His knees buckled forward, and he crumpled silently to the floor.
She did not pause to see how badly he was hurt. It did not matter. She would not let it matter. What was done was done. She could not stop now.
Turning, she ran to the makeshift crib and reached down to scoop John into her arms. His eyes flashed open, startled, and he began to cry with fright. “Shhhhh, darling.” She held him tightly. “It’s all over now. Mommy has you, and we’ll never be apart again.”
She was almost out the door when she remembered the rifle she had dropped after striking Travis. The swamp was dangerous, and she was alone now. She might need a weapon. Quickly, she hurried to retrieve it. Juggling John with one arm, she maneuvered the rifle and made her way out and down the ladder.
Her feet touched the ground. The bayou was no longer blue. It lay before her, gray and ominous, and she knew the path ahead would be dangerous. She would have to watch herself every step of the way. John was still crying, and she crooned to him as she began to walk quickly.
Something caught her eye, and she turned to see a bright bandanna—then the startled expression on the face of the woman who wore it. Malah. She cried out to Kitty, but Kitty turned and fled.
Threading her way gingerly along the riverbank, she found the first bend. How much farther to where she would enter the swamp? Dear God, she did not know. She had to watch carefully for the sign of the path. If she missed it, she could wind up wandering along the river until Travis awoke and came after her.
Something bellowed to her right, and she suppressed a scream as she realized she had passed within a few feet of a slant-eyed alligator lying on the riverbank. He opened his mouth, displaying dozens of long, razor-sharp teeth. Bile rose in her throat, and she stumbled over a piece of driftwood, almost falling. Righting herself, she began to run, leaping over debris in her path. Move…run…fast…faster…her heart was pounding, its thundering beats echoing above John’s frantic shrieks.
The path! Thank God, the path was there. She cut from the riverbank to enter the vine-covered world of the swamp, knowing instinctively that from this point on she could not move fast. She had to be on guard against quicksand, snakes, the slapping branches and ripping thorns. And it was almost dark. No sunlight penetrated the thick growth above.
How long had she been gone from the cabin? She had no way of knowing. An hour? John had fallen into an exhausted half-sleep, and he snuggled against her weary, aching shoulder, his thumb in his mouth. Picking her way along, she continued to croon to him, telling him that soon they would be safe. Soon he would have warm, dry clothing and food.
Then she heard it, and her blood turned to ice.
“Kitty? Kitty, where are you?”
Travis. She could hear him crashing somewhere behind her, and not too far behind, either. Oh, God, how could he be so close? He knew this place, of course. Now she had to move even faster.
“Kitty, you’re crazy! You’ll never make it out of here. You’re putting John’s life in danger as well as your own. Answer me, damn it.”
Something slapped against her face, something sticky and grabbing, and she fought the scream bubbling in her throat as she realized she had stumbled into a giant spider web. And there it was, the ugly gray thing, as big as her hand, and she slapped out with the rifle, knocking it away as she twisted and turned, stumbling, falling, dropping John to the ground with a soft thud.
She scrambled to her feet, holding the
gun under her arm as she covered the baby’s mouth with her hand. He was awake once more, about to cry. “Forgive me, darling, but I can’t let you make a sound,” she whispered frantically.
Whipping about, she realized with panic that she had somehow gotten off the path. There were no weeds trampled down, no defined trail, nothing—just brush and vines and trees and swampy patches that might be quicksand. Oh, where was the trail? How could she have been so careless? Because she was frightened, that’s how, she cursed. There had to be a way out of this place…had to be…had to be…the silent chant thundered in rhythm to her heartbeat.
And then she heard the loud, agonizing cry. She froze where she stood.
“Quicksand!”
The tortured cry was Travis’s.
“Quicksand! I’m in quicksand! Kitty, help me!”
“It’s a trick!” she said out loud, angry that he would stoop so low. It had to be a trick. He knew these swamps, every inch. He would never be so foolish as to stumble into quicksand.
“Help me, please.”
She continued to move forward, and then something made her stop. She looked at John. His eyes were turning from a baby blue to a smoky gray, and he was staring at her intently, as though he knew, somehow, what was going on, and he was asking her how she could walk away from his daddy and leave him to die.
“This is ridiculous,” she hissed. “You can’t know what’s going on. You’re just a baby. And it doesn’t matter. He was going to take you from me, can’t you see that?” Tears were streaming down her cheeks. But John continued to watch her steadily.
Closing her eyes, she remembered the kisses and the fury, everything that had ever transpired between them. God, she had loved him once, and she loved him still, even though she hated admitting it. She could not turn back.
“Kitty, for God’s sake!”
The voice sounded weaker. He was not moving forward.
John continued to stare at her, and suddenly she screamed at him, “You’re just a baby! You can’t condemn me. You can’t really know.”
The Raging Hearts: The Coltrane Saga, Book 2 Page 42