Stolen Heritage (Historical Christian Romance)

by Barbara Goss

  “I never realized how brutal Ram was. I didn't think anyone would be killed!”

  Laurel was speechless for several moments. “What you are telling me, Melita, is that if I don't agree to marry Ram, I'll die.”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you suggest I do?” Laurel asked rolling her eyes. “I have no intention of marrying Ram Atwood.”

  “I wouldn't tell him that yet. We need time.”

  “Tell me, what exactly did Ram expect you to do by visiting me today?” Laurel asked suspiciously.

  “He wanted me to tell you how wonderful he is and that he and I are just friends. He also wanted me to say unpleasant things about Jeremy Grant, for he wonders if you have interests in that area. I think Jeremy is in love with you, but I didn't tell Ram that.”

  “Why do you think that?” Laurel asked, her heart pounding hopefully.

  “The way he looks at you, protects you, and defends you.”

  “We’re good friends is all. Jeremy is that type of caring person.”

  “He and I were close at one time, but I don’t ever recall him looking at me the way he looks at you. Why, at the farewell party, he never once took his eyes off you.”

  Laurel hoped Melita was right about Jeremy, but her mind was still on Ram and their problem.

  “Actually,” Laurel said, sweeping aside all secrecy, “your spying on Jeremy for Ram is the only thing I didn't already know about this situation. I've been dodging Ram all week. I don't know how much longer I can play cat and mouse.” Laurel studied Melita carefully. “What will you do? This must be terribly painful for you.”

  “Me? I'm not sure yet. Trust me, though, I won't help him hurt others. I love him and must make him understand he can't manipulate people. I'll find a way to deal with Ram.”

  “Melita, if you're hopelessly in love with Ram, how do I know I can trust you?” Laurel asked. “He may charm you into telling him I have no intention of marrying him.”

  Melita shook her head. “You'll have to trust me, I guess.” The beautiful woman smiled mysteriously and stood to leave. She reached the door and turned, “Don’t worry, Laurel, I won’t let him hurt you.”

  Misgivings overwhelmed Laurel. Had she done the right thing? Could she really trust Melita, a woman who was obviously obsessively in love? Opening the French doors, she walked out onto the balcony. As she breathed in the fresh air, she thought about a walk. Yet hadn't Jeremy instructed her to avoid danger by staying near Angus? Angus! I'll ask my father to walk with me. Then it dawned on her; she'd never seen her father walk! Hadn't he always been in the dining room before her and always been in a chair, awaiting their checker games?

  Momentary panic overcame her. In her selfishness, she'd never asked after his health. She'd purred just like Smoky over his concern for her, yet she'd never thought to ask about him. Guilt at her own thoughtlessness washed over her. Her father could be a cripple or invalid, and she didn't even know it.

  Smoky jumped over the balcony railing with something in his mouth and scampered into the bedroom and under the bed. Laurel groaned. Suppose it was a dead mouse or something! Reluctantly she crawled under the bed after the mischievous kitten.

  Grabbing Smoky and pulling him out, she pried the object from his mouth.

  “Gracious, Smoky,” she laughed. “Someone meant well by giving you a juicy hunk of beef, but whoever it is doesn't know how to feed a cat. You'll only eat small finely cut chunks of meat.”

  Smoky sniffed after the beef and meowed.

  “Yes, you may have it, after I break it up for you.” She kissed his forehead. Walking to his dish, she stooped and began tearing the meat into small, bite-sized pieces. “What's this?” she said aloud, pulling out a large glob of white powder buried within the meat cube. “No!” she yelled and swatted Smoky away from the dish he'd approached with anticipation.

  Laurel took the dish away, placed it inside her upper dresser drawer, and closed it. She'd figure out later what to do with it. Perhaps the substance was harmless, but the thought that Ram or Ada might poison the cat remained uppermost in her mind. She still had doubts about whether or not she should have told Melita so much today. Sympathy for Melita had prompted her to speak too freely. Now she worried.

  For the now Smoky had better stay inside the room and only go out with her or Maggie. Locking him in, she walked to her father's room. She had to make things right with Angus McCallister.

  A boisterous invitation to enter followed her special knock. “Hello, Daughter!” He smiled at the sight of her. He set down the book he’d been reading and gave her his full attention.

  “Good morning, Father.” She kissed him on the forehead. For once Laurel took the time to study him carefully. He sat with a blanket on his lap. Nothing unusual about that.

  “The checkerboard is in the cupboard. You caught me unprepared this morning, or are you early?”

  “I'm very early, and I didn't come to play checkers. I came to see you. I mean really see you.” She sat in the chair opposite the small table before him and took his wrinkled, crooked hands in hers. “I've been a selfish daughter, basking in the love and attention you've been showering on me. Until this morning, it never dawned on me that I haven't returned that concern.”

  “Nonsense,” he roared. “You've been the perfect daughter.”

  “Father, why have I never seen you walk? Are you able? All this time, I've never given it a second thought. I feel terrible.”

  Angus surprised Laurel by roaring with laughter.

  Frustrated with his finding humor in something she felt serious about, she became angry and with arms akimbo demanded, “And what is so funny?”

  “I’m sorry, Daughter,” he said, trying to stifle his laughing. “Your concern isn't a laughing matter, yet I find myself the object of the joke, not you.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Had it ever occurred to you that I tried to hide my state of not-so-well-being? A number of times your concern came close to making me disclose my secret.” He became more serious. “It just struck me funny that I'd not succeeded. How foolish I've been to even try to keep it a secret. I guess I didn't want you to know how helpless and feeble your father actually is. How can you possibly feel protected and safe in this world, when your only protector is a feeble, crippled old man?”

  “What foolishness,” she said, hoping he didn't realize how close to home his statement hit, for that was exactly how she felt. “What's wrong with you?”

  “Nothing terribly dramatic. Years of drinking have made me weak, and I've a severe case of gout. I can walk, slowly, with a cane and Ada's help.” He sighed, and his eyes filled. “Your father is weak and helpless. I'm sorry.”

  “If only I'd been able to return to you sooner,” Laurel thought aloud.

  “That might have helped my condition, but that isn't how it was meant to be.”

  She rose and hugged the man. “I don't love you any less. You shouldn't have tried to hide it.”

  Wiping the tears from his eyes, he said roughly, “We all have some vanity… Now get that checkerboard!”

  In the hall, returning to her room, Laurel bumped into Maggie.

  “Gram, did you give Smoky a large hunk of beef?”

  Maggie shook her head, and as usual a worried look followed.

  Laurel decided it was time to confide in her grandmother and ushered her into the bedroom. Smoky stretched from his perch atop the highest dresser, where sunshine spread over him. He rolled onto his back, basking to the fullest extent.

  Without disturbing Smoky, Laurel removed the food dish from the drawer and handed it to Maggie.

  Maggie poked at the white powder and smelled it. She shook her head and looked at Laurel questioningly.

  Laurel shrugged. “I don't know what it is or who gave it to him.”

  Maggie became irritated and pounded her fists, as she usually did when her inability to speak frustrated her. Luckily, she pounded them on the bed, and they made no sound.

&nb
sp; Knowing how she felt, Laurel went to the desk and took a pen and piece of paper and brought them to her grandmother. Maggie grabbed them and wrote furiously. Laurel could barely read the words. The gist of the message was that Laurel should guard Smoky until they found out who was responsible.

  Laurel agreed. “But isn't it possible that hunk of meat wasn't meant for Smoky? Perhaps Ada or Ram is trying to discourage rats or mice in the stable, and Smoky intercepted the meat.”

  Maggie shrugged and wrote: They never use meat on rats or mice.

  “Will you help me take Smoky out, when necessary?”

  Maggie nodded, then her eyes lit up. She'd remembered something. Fishing in her pocket, she pulled out an envelope. Handing it to Laurel, she left the room, carrying the dish with the beef.

  With pounding heart, Laurel hoped the message was from Jeremy and that he'd returned. As she tore open the envelope she smiled to see his masculine writing.

  Strangely, he only said to meet him by the rock along the creek tonight at eight o'clock sharp.

  Completely absorbed in thoughts of Jeremy Grant, Laurel managed to get through dinner and Ram's advances and invitations. Pleading a headache, she excused herself early and paced her room until seven-thirty. Then she chose a plain black dress, to better hide herself in the dark. Ada had chosen the black dress saying she’d need it for funerals, and that every woman owned at least one black dress. She brushed her hair, letting it fall loosely about her shoulders, the way Melita wore hers.

  As a final touch, she sprayed her neck with perfume and pinched her cheeks to give them color. Satisfied with her appearance, she kissed the sleeping Smoky on the head and quietly slipped from the room, using the French doors.

  When she swung her legs over the balcony, she recalled the last time she'd done so and had fallen into Ram's arms. What would she do if he appeared now? She thanked God that she saw no one and ran along the creek, wondering if Jeremy was already there. Would she have to await him? The sun had already started its descent, and she’d rather not be out alone, as there was only a sliver of a moon out.

  She approached the rock cautiously, for she didn't see anyone and the darkness unnerved her.

  Rustling behind her caused her to jump. “It's just me, Laurel,” a familiar voice sounded from the path behind her. The moon caught Jeremy's face, and Laurel ran to him in relief.

  Their embrace seemed natural, and both seemed reluctant to end it.

  Jeremy tenderly gazed into her eyes. His eyes shone brightly in the pale light. “I missed you,” he whispered.

  “I missed you, too,” she whispered breathlessly. Then she pulled away, suddenly unsure of her emotions. She wondered if Melita was right and Jeremy really did fall in love with her. Or was this just friendship love?

  “Laurel,” he said sternly, “I want you to pack your things and come stay with Flora and me until this matter with Ram is settled. Your life may be in danger.”

  Chapter 15

  “My life may be in danger?" Laurel laughed. “But you knew that before you left for Fort Sill.” Why the sudden concern? she wondered.

  “Yes, but more so now. I spoke to Melita, and she said—”

  “You spoke to Melita, too?”

  “Why, yes. She stopped by this afternoon. Did you speak to her?”

  Laurel nodded. The moon caught her hair's red highlights, accentuating the waves that fell loosely over her shoulders. “What did she tell you?”

  “She has agreed to help set up Ram so the army can arrest him.”

  “Jeremy, can we trust her? She’s infatuated with Ram and would do anything for him. It makes me feel very uneasy. I want to trust her, yet…”

  “At this point we don't have much choice. I brought six men back with me, and they're just waiting to get enough proof to nab Ram Atwood and put him away for a long time.”

  “Did Melita tell you how she had spied on you for Ram? How she used you?”

  He looked down, embarrassed. “She confessed everything. She cried—” he broke off.

  “I guess,” said Laurel, “our conversations were pretty much the same then. Did she tell you of Ram's plans for me, since he discovered my father changed his will?”

  “Yes,” his face hardened. “I don't want him even close to courting you, for whatever reason. Don't forget, you're only good to him as his wife or … dead.”

  “You mean he may decide the latter would be faster and easier?”

  He nodded. “Get your things together. I'll wait.”

  She looked up at him and felt the warmth of true concern, yet she couldn't obey. “I can't leave my father and grandmother. Is there no other way?”

  Thoughtfully he paced before her.

  “Didn't Melita say she'd help set up Ram? Perhaps she can do that quickly. I can dodge him a little longer,” she pleaded.

  Jeremy took her into his arms and rocked her gently. “I don't want him anywhere near you,” he whispered, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

  Now is as good a time as any to find out she thought. Laurel searched his eyes and asked, “Why?”

  Squeezing her hard, he whispered in her ear, “Because …”

  Laurel continued eying him carefully, “Because of our friendship, or because Flora asked you to look out for me?”

  Jeremy pulled away and held her by her shoulders. He came close to her. They stood almost nose to nose when he said, “No, because I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  Laurel’s head jerked up in surprise and stood gaping at him. Within moments his lips were pressing hers in the most wonderful expression of affection Laurel had ever experienced: her first kiss. When it was over, her knees wobbled, and she embraced him again, more to keep herself upright than out of affection—though she felt plenty of that, too.

  They stood embracing for several minutes.

  He finally said. “I thought I loved Melita, but I never missed her when I was away. I never thought about her night and day and I never wanted to be near her every second of every day. I thought I was in love because she was lovely, intelligent and we’d been together so long… we sort of grew on each other, I guess. My pride was what hurt when she broke off our engagement for Ram.” He sighed. “No one knows what love really is until it happens. And it has happened. Unexpectedly, but it’s real. I couldn’t wait to get back to Fort Worth so I could see you.”

  Shyly, she looked into his clear, gentle eyes. “Oh, Jeremy! I love you, too.”

  His embrace tightened. He whispered, his breath hot against her ear, “Then come with me tonight. I need to know you are safe.”

  Pulling away, she held him at arm's length. “Give me a little more time. I'd have to explain everything to my father. I couldn't just leave him. He can't walk, did you know?”

  “Not at all?” Jeremy asked.

  “Hardly. He walks some with a cane. He needs me, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy sighed. “I don't know what to do. I've never been more worried about anyone than I am about you.”

  “I promise to be careful, and if need be, I'll send for you.”

  “Things happen fast… it may be too late!”

  “I just can’t leave them, Jeremy. My father is so happy having me here. He thinks I don’t know that he still nips a bit of whiskey now and then, but I can smell it. Yet, he isn’t drunk anymore. If I leave…”

  “All right,” he said, “but I don't feel right about leaving you here.”

  Laurel gazed into his large concern-filled brown eyes. With her own blue orbs she silently begged to be kissed again.

  She got her wish. How she loved Jeremy’s kisses. She experienced sensations she’d never felt before. She clung to him for several more minutes basking in the foreign but wonderful feeling that his kisses and hugs caused to her body.

  Jeremy kissed her more abruptly this time. “You,” he said tapping her nose. Had better get back to your room before it gets any darker. I’ll walk you back.”

  “No, she cried. If Ram sees me coming back will be wor
se for me.”

  He nodded. “I’ll walk you to the bend in the creek, and I’ll watch through the bushes until I see you safely into your room.”

  When Laurel returned to her room, she flopped down upon the bed and sighed. “Welcome to your new life, Laurel McCallister!” She patted the bed, “C'mon Smoky.” No response. She sat and gazed about the room. “Smoky!” she called. Panic filled her, and she sprang up, kneeled, and looked beneath the bed. She tore open the closet—no gray kitten. Grasping the knob of the French doors, she yanked them open. Cool evening air hit her face, but no Smoky appeared. Trying to keep her voice calm, she called, “Smoky! Smoky!”

  A noise caused her to turn abruptly. There in the bedroom doorway from the hall stood Maggie, clutching the cat.

  “Thank God.” Laurel raced to her grandmother. “I was so worried.”

  Maggie gave Smoky to Laurel, walked to the desk, scratched words onto paper, and handed it to her granddaughter. Laurel read the words and laughed. “Yes, I did ask you to help with him. I forgot. Thank you. Maybe from now on you could leave me a note or something, so I don't worry. I don't know what I'd do without him,” she said, hugging the furry, gray, kitten who looked up at her with wide yellow eyes as if to say, “What’s all the fuss, I’m fine.”

  With Smoky asleep at the bottom of the bed and her hair brushed, Laurel removed her bathrobe, preparing to slip into bed. Suddenly, she spun toward the door, a noise outside her hall door drew her attention. No one knocked, but she heard footsteps and the rustle of paper. Walking over to the door, she noticed a slip of paper showing from beneath the door. Stooping, she picked it up and opened it.

  Laurel:

  Meet me at the rock in ten minutes. Urgent.

  Ram

  Laurel's hands shook with fright as she read the words. Why the rock? Was it a common meeting place? Jeremy had known about it from her story about the day she had become lost. How did Ram know she went there? Meet him there at night? Never. Oh no! Had Ram seen her and Jeremy at the rock? Her hands shook nervously as she refolded the paper, slid it back under her door. She decided to pretend she'd never found it. Perhaps that's what he'll think, too, she assured herself. She tossed and turned for most of the night and once thought she heard someone outside her door. In the morning, the note was gone.