Outside, the cool night air felt good against Alexandra's face and her head began to clear as the drug lost its effect. She would not think of what she had just been through, not now, she couldn't. She had to think of escaping from the plantation before Giles discovered her missing.
They hurried across the lawn to the kitchen.
Once inside, Ebba grabbed her large, worn valise. It was stuffed with all her possessions.
"You were already packed, Ebba?" Alexandra asked, surprised.
"I knew Miss Eleanor was going, child, and I knew that I'd be going when that happened, too. This is all I have. Now, let's pack some food. I've baked cornbread and there's some meat to take. Hurry, child."
"Ebba, you pack the food while I harness the horse, unless you know how."
Ebba's eyes grew large. "Sugar, I'm afraid of those animals and I ain't never harnessed one."
"Well, I haven't either, but I've seen it done. I'll do my best. Is that the stable over there?"
"Yes, but hurry, child. He might wake up at any moment, and he'd kill us both sure as the world."
"I'm going, Ebba. You hurry, too."
Alexandra left the kitchen for the stable. How she would harness the horse she didn't know, but she was determined to use her last ounce of strength to escape Giles. Knocking aside the clinging moss and limbs of trees, Alexandra ran determinedly on, growing more angry by the second. The pain that riddled her body only served to intensify her determination to escape Jarmon Plantation.
She stopped outside the stable, standing there a moment as she took great gulps of air to catch her breath. When she flung the stable door open and stepped inside, she gasped. The horse had never been unhitched from his harness or the carriage!
She wouldn't have to do it! But how completely cruel of Giles Jarmon. The poor animal. She hurried over to the dejected beast whose head hung down wearily. He eyed her suspiciously, as if expecting more punishment. There were old welts on his sides where Giles had whipped him frequently.
She threw her valise into the carriage and firmly took the reins as she pulled at the reluctant animal. The carriage jangled, creaked and groaned as it rolled out of the stable and Alexandra gritted her teeth. The noise was enough to wake the dead, much less the sleeping Giles, but there was nothing that could be done about it. They had to have the horse and carriage. She led the horse, walking beside him to keep him quiet and reassured, speaking to him all the way toward the kitchen. They had to go around the mansion to the front yard to gain the main road. They weren't nearly free yet.
Suddenly a dark figure approached Alexandra. She gasped, biting her hand to keep from crying out and jerking the horse to a stop. Then her breath came out in a sigh of relief as she realized that it was Ebba moving up to the carriage.
"Glad you got it, sugar. Ready to go?"
"Yes, Ebba. Giles had left the horse like this. But hurry, hurry. Get inside. You've got everything?"
Ebba nodded as she threw her things into the carriage, then hoisted herself inside.
Now, Alexandra thought, if we can just make it to the front of the house and down the drive without him hearing and coming after us.
She pulled at the horse. He was reluctant. She pulled again, straining her sore muscles, and he began walking. The pain in her back was a constant red haze that drove her on, demanding that she not be subjected to Giles' brutal treatment again. Moss hit her face, blinding her as she strove to find her way around the house. Finally, she was at the side of the huge mansion, then on the circular drive. At last, she could reach the one road leading away from Jarmon Plantation.
She stopped the horse and threw the reins inside. Before stepping into the carriage, she turned around. She wanted one last look at the mansion that had bred a person like Giles, but to her horror she saw the dark shape of a man on the verandah. Then he began to move, taking the stairs two at a time. Giles hit the ground and was running, running toward her!
She froze, unable to move. Every horror that had ever haunted her was embodied in the dark, sinister figure running toward her. But still she couldn't move and he was getting closer, and closer.
"Hurry!" Ebba hissed, and the familiar voice broke Alexandra's dream-like stupor.
She got into the carriage, and grabbing the reins in both hands, she flicked them harshly over the poor animal's back. He jerked forward in surprise, then quickened his pace as Alexandra urged him on, but he was not quick enough. Giles was upon them. He grabbed Alexandra's arm, pulling, holding on as the animal gathered speed.
Desperate, Alexandra forgot her fright, her pain, as her hand came down on the whip Giles had left in the seat. Her fingers curled around it and as she raised it, she looked hard into his dark, furious eyes. Her eyes glinted like bits of green glass as she brought the whip down viciously across his face, striking again and again until his blood ran red and his face contorted in pain and rage. Still he hung on as the animal raced down the drive away from the mansion. Alexandra clung to the reins of the wildly running horse with one hand and plied the whip with the other. Then she saw her chance. There was a bend in the road with the branches of the trees hanging low along the side. She urged the horse on, then turned to Giles as the trees came close. She lashed out at him once more before the branches caught him, scraping his body away from her and the carriage.
Alexandra's triumphant laughter rang out in the quiet, still country night.
PART THREE: THE EYES OF TEXAS
Chapter 17
TEXAS! Was it as endless as it seemed? Alexandra shaded her eyes as she looked far into the distance, wishing that she wore a more appropriate hat than the small fashionable one perched atop her curls. No matter how far they traveled, or how far her eyes could see, it was still a land of endless proportions—a flat, dry, dusty country filled with gamma grass, brush, and mesquite. There was no resemblance here to anything she'd known before. And surprisingly, many small animals as well as the large herds of wild longhorns and mustangs lived in this desolate country, thriving in the hot, dry climate.
Even the fine horse and comfortable sidesaddle could not keep the muscles of her body from aching as they rode deeper and deeper into south Texas toward the Bar J Ranch. Alexandra glanced over at her companions. They sat their horses well, seemingly tireless, but then they were United States Cavalrymen and were used to long hours in the saddle. Alexandra was not! And her healing back did not help matters.
Four soldiers were escorting her to the Bar J Ranch: Lieutenant Blake, his sergeant, and two enlisted men. She had been fortunate to attain their protection in Corpus Christi, the port where she had debarked from the boat she'd boarded in New Orleans. The thought of Louisiana brought memories flooding back.
She remembered how she had not slowed the poor horse down until Ebba and she were far away from Giles and the Jarmon Plantation; after the pace had slowed she had walked the exhausted beast much of the way to New Orleans. It had been a long, painful trip, but after stopping to rest several times, they had finally arrived just as dawn was breaking over the city.
Fortunately, Ebba knew her way around New Orleans and had insisted that she and Alexandra stay with some people she knew in the Negro section. They would be safer there; Giles would be less likely to find them. It was a small overcrowded house but to Alexandra, it had seemed like heaven.
As soon as the local banks had opened, she had reluctantly wired to New York for money. Now Stan Lewis was sure to find her. She only hoped that once she was out of New Orleans, Stan Lewis and Giles Jarmon would not be able to find her in the vastness of Texas.
So she'd taken the chance, gotten the money, then had set about finding passage to Corpus Christi, the closest port to the Bar J Ranch in south Texas. She had been lucky. A schooner was sailing in three days; her money would arrive in time.
Before leaving, she had given Ebba money to go out and purchase whatever clothes for her she could, with a special request to get a riding habit and boots. She did not dare shop for herself, too afraid th
at Giles or Madame LeBlanc would find her.
Ebba had been gone all afternoon, but had finally returned carrying many packages and boxes. Either she had been unable to buy or had chosen not to buy, any simple gowns. The ones she had purchased were luxurious and expensive. But there was no time left to shop again so Alexandra had thanked Ebba, grateful for anything at all to take along on her escape.
She had given the horse and carriage to the Negro family who had helped them, and also a substantial sum of money to Ebba to help her when she got up North.
Alexandra enjoyed the interlude on the ship; it had proven pleasant and restful, the clean salt air flushing the humid rot of the dying South from her spirit, healing her. She'd shared a cabin with several Northern women who were going to join their husbands in Texas, soldiers stationed at the fort in Brownsville, and since an escort of soldiers would be waiting in Corpus Christi to meet the women, they had assured Alexandra that she would be welcome to travel with them for it would be much safer than trying to hire an unreliable escort.
So, by the time they had arrived in Corpus Christi, Alexandra felt happier, more secure, more like her old self, and was looking forward to completing her promise to Olaf and Eleanor. The soldiers had been waiting, as expected, to escort the women and were more than happy to include Alexandra in their party. There had been wagons for the women to ride in and room for their trunks and the other military supplies which had also arrived on the schooner. She'd felt quite safe as they had ridden inland and then south towards Brownsville on the tip of Texas and near the Mexican border. The major had assured her that even though they would not go by the Bar J Ranch, he would send an escort with her over to the ranch.
The four days they had traveled to get there had been long, hot, and dusty, but Alexandra had enjoyed the company of the other women and the obvious admiration of the soldiers. One man in particular had been most attentive—Lieutenant Blake. He had always been there to help her, making sure she was comfortable. The major had even let him escort her to the Bar J Ranch, and she'd felt quite safe in his presence.
Suddenly, Alexandra's thoughts were jerked back to the present as she saw a brown adobe building in the distance. Could that at last be the Bar J Ranch? The flat, prairie lands all looked alike to her.
"That's the Bar J hacienda, Miss Alexandra," Lieutenant Blake said, glancing at the beauty riding beside him. He was sorry she would not be going on to Brownsville with the rest of the party. But he didn't think a woman like this one would stay long in desolate south Texas. There was nothing here but a lot of half starving Rebels who'd fled the dying South after the war, and thousands of wild cattle and mustangs. No, it was certainly not the place for a fine Northern lady like Miss Alexandra Clarke, but she'd been adamant about coming. At least they had gotten her there safely, but if she didn't want to stay, he'd be only too happy to take her back to the others.
"It's like nothing I've ever seen before," Alexandra said, studying the adobe structure. At least it wasn't a one room shack, but still it was hardly a mansion. The structure was Spanish in architecture with a flat roof and a rounded archway in front. It seemed to fit the countryside, blending in with the colors and the stark, flat land. The sun was intense and it was already hot, much too hot for May; she wondered if it ever got really cold in the winter.
"No, ma'am. I doubt if it is. You'd be used to something much finer," Lieutenant Blake said.
"Finer, perhaps, but not as appropriate," Alexandra said thoughtfully.
Lieutenant Blake grunted, thinking that she didn't have any idea of what she was getting into. The Indians were about tamed, but the men of Texas were wild and almost impossible to control. The fort at Brownsville was supposed to keep things in order, but in this wide expanse of land, there was little they could do. Miss Alexandra was just too innocent a young woman to understand what she was getting into, and she wasn't strong enough to last through the hardships that were innate to the country. But she was stubborn as well as beautiful and was determined to see for herself, he thought. Well, give her a month, then she'd be begging for someone to take her away—to anywhere that was civilized.
Stopping in front of the entrance to the hacienda, Lieutenant Blake put his large hand over Alexandra's gloved ones, saying, "Remember to come to me if you need help, Miss Alexandra. You will have friends in Brownsville when we get there. Remember that, please."
She turned her bright eyes up to his face, looking at the strong jawline, the intense brown eyes. "Thank you for your interest, Lieutenant Blake, and for bringing me here safely. If I, indeed, need help, or want to leave the Bar J Ranch, I will certainly think of my friends at Brownsville."
"Well, what brings you folks this way?" a voice hailed them, as a man walked slowly toward them from the hacienda.
Alexandra watched him closely, realizing that her time had come. She looked over at the lieutenant. He quickly dismounted and came over to her horse, then helped her down, his hands lingering on her small waist longer than was necessary, but Alexandra didn't notice, her attention caught up with the man who approached them.
"What have we got that the army needs now?" the man drawled as he stopped beside Alexandra and Lieutenant Blake, his eyes squinting in the sunlight as he eyed the group of soldiers unfavorably.
"We've come for nothing of yours, sir," Lieutenant Blake said smartly. "We've brought Miss Alexandra Clarke to you."
"Oh?" the man said slowly, his attention focusing on Alexandra. A beautiful woman, a rare beauty, he thought, as his eyes quickly looked her over. But what was she doing here?
Alexandra stared at the man, forgetting her manners completely. There was a feeling of aristocracy about him even though he was dressed so strangely in tight fitting pants, an open necked shirt, high boots with very high heels and a red scarf tied around his neck. There was an extremely large hat planted securely on his head, but she could see the sharp black eyes under it appraising her. And there was something familiar in his features.
"Well?" he asked, still watching Alexandra.
"I've come to see Jacob Jarmon and his uncle, Lamar Jarmon."
The man's expression didn't change, but there was a slight twitch to his lips as he spoke. "Well, now, what would bring a fine Yankee lady all the way out here to see two hombres like that?"
Alexandra felt her face turning red. "I am Alexandra Clarke. I have just come from the Jarmon Plantation in Louisiana."
The man's mouth tightened, but not in friendship or pleasure. "So?"
This was not proving to be easy. Why had she ever thought they would welcome her with open arms? But she plunged on. She'd come too far not to continue. "Eleanor—"
"Eleanor?" the man asked quickly, his face softening for a moment before the hard mask came down again.
"She sent me to see her son and his uncle. She's dead."
The man uttered several strong oaths as he turned quickly away from them and began pacing the hard packed dirt in front of the hacienda. His hands clenched and unclenched as if it took great effort to control himself. In a moment he came back, pushed his hat back on his head, then said, "Welcome to the Bar J, Miss Clarke. If you're a friend of Eleanor's, then you're our friend, too. I'm Lamar Jarmon. You can call me Lamar, everyone does. Her son is here. You can meet him later."
Alexandra smiled back, her heart giving a tiny jump in relief. She'd been accepted!
"You'll be staying then, Miss Alexandra?" Lieutenant Blake asked discouragingly.
Alexandra looked at him, then back at Lamar Jarmon. And as she looked into the dark eyes of the older man, she said, "Yes, I'll be staying—if I'm welcome."
Lamar Jarmon said slowly, deliberately, "You're welcome, but I must warn you right now that anyone staying at the Bar J has to pull their own weight and it's not a woman's world. You won't like it here."
"Yes, I understand. I'll do whatever is necessary, but you see, Eleanor asked me on her deathbed to come here. There are things I must tell you and then, I want to stay a while, just a whi
le," she said gently, imploringly, her green eyes soft and moist.
"If Eleanor sent you and you're determined to stay after having traveled this far into Texas, then you know what you're getting into. But I'll warn you again, Texas is no place for a woman—not a woman like you."
Alexandra flushed again, but this time in anger as she said, "Mister Jarmon, I am not a child. I know what I'm getting into. I made a promise to Eleanor and I never break my promises."
Lamar Jarmon smiled slightly, thinking that perhaps he'd judged the lady wrong, perhaps she was tough enough for Texas, at least she had a temper and was no mewling girl that would demand attention and pampering. Well, they'd see, but he knew one man who'd be mad as hell to have this little slip of a girl around the place. No, Eleanor's son wouldn't be glad to see the lady she'd sent here. Hell, he'd been so crabby and mean since he came back from New Orleans that hardly a man dared approach him. He'd always had a bad temper, but now it was almost always aflame. Well, at least things would be lively for a while. Of course, they'd have to send her away before they made the cattle drive to Kansas, but they'd cross that bridge when they came to it. He never worried in advance; it just made a man old before his time.
"Well, Miss Clarke, if you're as determined as you seem to be, perhaps you'll make it on the Bar J after all. Are those your bags on the pack horse?"
Alexandra grinned at him, showing her lovely white teeth and he caught his breath for an instant. The Bar J hands would never be the same after seeing her. There was no doubt about that, he thought. "Yes, they're mine. I didn't bring much. I didn't know what I'd need."
He nodded, thinking that women never traveled light even when they thought they did.
"You can unload, men," Lieutenant Blake said, eyeing Lamar Jarmon uneasily. Turning toward Alexandra, he said, "You realize there won't be any women here, except a Mexican or Indian perhaps. Are you sure you want to stay?"
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