Out Of The Darkness

by Crawford, Dianna; Druten, Rachel;

  twelve

  As Colin stared down at Mary from astride his stallion, he felt his pulse fuse with the ceaseless, exotic beat of the natives’ upraised voices. He couldn’t believe it. He’d been in the bush for months, and when he’d finally ventured back, the first white woman he laid his weary eyes on was Mary. And from the way his heart was pounding, he might as well have spared himself the trouble of leaving in the first place.

  Surrounded by the press of statuesque, ebony-skinned Zulus, Mary’s small, delicate frame, albeit bountiful with child, looked fragile and vulnerable. Glints of sunlight, brighter than the refractions off the Hope diamond, sparkled in the drops of water clinging to the wild waves of her wet hair and the lashes of her astonished brown eyes. And the chaste white shift, molded to her body, struck Colin as so provocative, it nearly drove him mad not to leap from his horse and sweep her into his arms.

  Well, he guessed that answered the question.

  Six months he’d been gone, and it was as if he’d never left. The woman couldn’t be unhinged from his thoughts. Or his heart.

  And, unless Ed McKenzie had been found since Colin had received his last report from Deputy Magistrate Scott, Mary was still without a husband. Something had to be done. After all this time, an annulment might be a real possibility, he thought hopefully.

  Gathering up the hem of her dripping garment, Mary cast a despairing look back in Colin’s direction, as with Kweela and Nandi’s help, she hastened to the carriage.

  Colin wheeled his horse and trotted back to his men, flanked on a crest overlooking the river. Putting Sergeant Bartlett in charge, he ordered them to proceed ahead to Johannesburg. He would follow in due course.

  Among the dark-skinned natives, Daniel’s pale face was more conspicuous than the moon in a night sky. Colin caught his eye and saluted. Dismounting, he tied his horse to the branch of a Mapeni tree and wove his way through the throng.

  Daniel met him halfway up the slope. Wet from hips down, he extended a chilled hand and a warm greeting. “Glad you’re back, old friend. Those few letters you sent haven’t nearly compensated for the loss of your good company.”

  Colin laughed. “Doesn’t look to me like you’re lacking for companionship.”

  “God has done great things here today, Colin—”

  A young native woman broke from the crowd, prostrating herself before Daniel, and began kissing his bare feet.

  Daniel reached down and helped her rise. Shaking his head, he pointed to himself, then lifted his gaze and his arms to the sky.

  The young woman’s face seemed to light up with understanding. As she bowed and backed into the crowd, a tall, bearded Kaffir in a leopard skin tunic stepped forward.

  His voice was deep and mellifluous, and he spoke with a cultivated British accent. “I will explain to the woman, Umfundici. I will make her understand that the healing of her child came from the Great Invisible God. But it is hard to explain to my people when they witness your magic.”

  “Not my magic,” Daniel corrected. “God’s miracles.”

  It seemed Daniel had been up to much more than merely one of his river baptisms.

  Apparently sensing Colin’s skepticism, the man turned and said sternly, “This day, people have been made well here. Even a lad with a cursed leg.”

  Colin nodded, struggling to maintain a composed expression. How easy it was for these simple folk to be duped. He saw it in the mines. He saw it here. Not that Daniel would do such a thing intentionally. But the natives were so gullible, so anxious to be convinced, that Colin suspected they conjured up ills just to have them cured. The miracles of Daniel’s God were as authentic to them as their witch doctors’ sorcery.

  He glanced at Daniel and was struck by the sincerity and conviction burning in his friend’s eyes.

  To Daniel, his God was no sorcerer.

  It was hard to believe that such a brilliant man could be so metaphysically seduced.

  ❧

  As the last Zulu stragglers disappeared over the crest of the hill and their singing faded into the distance, Mary reappeared with Emma. Colin struggled for calm. He must not give himself away to the Bryants. To covet a married woman was a grave sin to these fine Christian people—even to Colin, himself.

  He tried not to stare at her, but he couldn’t help himself. The true miracle here today was how this sweet girl could look so dainty and so fetching, when most women close to their time were heavy and awkward. She had changed into a loose-fitting dress and seemed to float toward him in a froth of blue as clear a color as the sky. Her hair was pulled into a bun at her crown, from which wisps of curls escaped, drifting softly about her glowing face.

  The nearer they came, the more she lagged behind Emma, her shy gaze not quite reaching his.

  Emma, however, was not reticent. “Colin, my dear boy, how wonderful. You’re home at last. We’ve missed you.” She gave him a hug and peck on each cheek.

  “I’ve missed all of you, too,” he replied, including Mary in his encompassing smile. “And our musicales. Native chants and jungle drums just don’t quite do it.”

  “Now that you’re back, we’ll have to start up again,” Daniel said.

  Without Grace Ellen, I hope. Colin remembered that last evening they were all together.

  “Unfortunately, we’ve lost Grace Ellen,” Emma said.

  There are such things as miracles, after all.

  “She and her father are off to India.”

  To find other unsuspecting prey, no doubt. Colin felt almost giddy with relief.

  “But we have met a charming couple who have recently moved here from Durban. Both musicians. She plays the. . .” Emma continued, but Colin was finding it very difficult to concentrate.

  When he realized that she’d paused, he said, “You arrange the date, and I will most certainly be there,” hoping she hadn’t noticed his momentary lapse.

  Emma smiled at Mary. “Not too soon, I think. Mary is expecting any day, now.”

  “It feels more like any minute.”

  Those were the first words Mary had spoken, and the mere sound of her soft, lilting voice made Colin’s heart skip more than a beat.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about Ed, or you would have written.” Her large eyes were sad. “He doesn’t even know he’s going to be a father.”

  Emma squeezed her hand. “Have faith, little one. Remember what I said about God’s promise. Everything will work out in the end.”

  Colin’s jaw tightened. That fiction might be of comfort to Emma and Daniel, but they had no right to foist their fantasies on Mary. As far as Colin was concerned, the worst thing now would be if the cad did come back. Then Mary would be stuck with the shiftless no-account for the rest of her life.

  Emma put her arm around Mary, shooting a warning look at the two men not to continue this conversation. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day, Mary dear. It’s time we went home.”

  As she and Mary moved back to the carriage, Daniel took Colin aside. “You don’t suppose her husband changed his name for some reason?” he asked quietly.

  “Mary and I have already discussed that possibility.”

  “I mean before he and Mary were married. Maybe McKenzie isn’t his real name.”

  “I suppose anything’s possible.” Colin glanced at Mary, glad enough for the excuse. “Even foul play.”

  They stood silent for a moment, neither wanting to ex-pound on the possibility that Ed McKenzie might, in fact, be dead.

  Daniel took a deep breath. “Well, good luck, old man. I hope you find him soon.” He gave Colin’s arm an encouraging squeeze as he turned.

  Emma called, “You must come and have some of Nandi’s good home cooking, Colin.”

  “Name the day,” he answered, meeting Mary’s gaze.

  ❧

  As he reined up in front of the district headquarters in Johan-nesburg, Constable Peterson gave Colin a smart salute. “Wel-come back, sir.”

  “Tha
nk you, Peterson.” Colin relinquished his horse to the officer and took the steps two at a time, acknowledging the greetings of his staff as he strode down the hall.

  He’d been a fool to stay away so long, living in primitive conditions, eating less than palatable food. Scott, his second-in-command, was a competent man. He could have gone north and taken over the patrols once Colin set up the substations. The last couple of months Colin had used even minor dis-turbances at the mines as an excuse for remaining in the Murchison District. . .to escape his own particular disturbances.

  All the while, this was where his primary duty lay. It was time to admit he’d allowed personal feelings to interfere with his professional judgment.

  He ran up the stairs and pushed open his office door.

  Deputy Magistrate Scott’s neat blond beard split with a smile as he put down the sheet of paper he was reading and marched across the room to shake his superior’s hand. “Good to have you back, sir.”

  The two men looked eye to eye, but where Colin sported an enviable head of thick dark hair, Deputy Scott’s was mostly on his chin. But his physique was as lean and hard as Colin’s and they shared a sense of duty and commitment. He was a man who could be counted on, as Colin well knew.

  “I’ve had tea prepared, sir. Unless you’d like something stronger.”

  “Tea will be fine.”

  Colin removed his cap and hung it on the hat rack, then moved to the window. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked absently down onto the street, not yet ready to face the backlog of paperwork that had accumulated in his absence. Further evidence of his neglect.

  He turned and accepted the cup of tea the deputy handed him. The first sip burned his tongue, and he sucked in air. “Hot. Just the way I like it.”

  Grinning at his colleague, he dropped into the chair behind his desk and gestured the other man to sit opposite. “Bring me up to date.”

  “The usual problems. Nothing exceptional. Except more of an influx of Kaffirs’ wives and children.”

  Colin shook his head. “I’m not surprised.”

  “Some of the folks around here are starting to complain. They don’t like the shantytowns springing up on the outskirts.”

  “Instead, they should be outraged by how little the mines pay those poor men,” Colin asserted. “Their families have to live somewhere.”

  “The folks claim crime has doubled.” The deputy gave Colin a beleaguered look. “Not true, but try and convince them.”

  “Been giving you a hard time, have they?” Taking another swallow of tea, Colin smiled. “I’ll tell you what. After you catch me up, how does a holiday sound?”

  Scott looked painfully grateful. “My wife will take that as good news. She’s seen very little of me since you’ve been gone. I must admit, now that I’ve had such an extended taste of your job, might I say, sir, you’re welcome to it.”

  Colin pulled out his timepiece. “It’s late. Why don’t you go home. There are just a couple of things I want to check before I leave. We’ll have a go at it tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Deputy Scott rose, tossed Colin a quick salute, and headed toward the door. “Oh. Bye the bye, sir—” He turned back. “Did you receive the message I sent about that fellow we’ve been searching for. . .McKenzie?”

  “You’ve located McKenzie?” Colin lunged to his feet, rattling the half-empty cup and splashing its remaining contents into the saucer.

  “No, not that. A United States marshal was in town last week asking about him. It appears McKenzie robbed some factory in New York City. The clever fellow led the authorities to think he’d gone to some northern territory. Alaska, I believe. Sent them on quite an ostrich chase. But they finally tracked him to a ship heading in our direction. The ship’s captain remembered him in particular because he performed a wedding ceremony for McKenzie.”

  Colin stared into his empty cup.

  There was no longer a shred of doubt.

  Mary was married. And to a thief.

  Absently he poured the splashed tea from the saucer back into the cup and handed it to Scott to dispose of.

  He frowned. “I was just with Mrs. McKenzie and the Reverend and Mrs. Bryant. None of them mentioned anything about a visit from a United States marshal.”

  “Well, sir, I saw no reason to involve the poor woman. As we both know, she can’t give the marshal any more information than we’ve already gotten from her. Was I wrong in shielding her, sir?”

  “I would have done the same,” Colin said, wondering just how many others besides himself had the urge to protect Mary. How many others, in his absence, had come to recognize her extraordinary qualities.

  “On the other hand, sir, if she knew something about the theft—”

  “I seriously doubt that. The woman is so honest, it would have been impossible for her to keep such a secret.” Colin scratched his chin thoughtfully. “But if McKenzie’s on the run, that makes it easier to see why he’s been so hard to trace. He’s changed his name, for sure. Maybe even dyed his hair.” He looked up at the deputy. “Did the marshal say how much McKenzie stole?”

  “No. But it must have been considerable. There’s a reward for his capture of a thousand American dollars.”

  Colin’s anger at Mary’s husband spiked. There had been no reason for him to leave her penniless. No reason at all. . .

  Unless he lost it all gambling aboard ship before he got here.

  To Ryzzi Kryzika.

  No wonder that little miscreant had been so evasive. If there was anything left to lift, Ryzzi certainly wouldn’t have wanted the law mucking it up.

  Well, Kryzika had a big surprise coming.

  Colin was about to get some answers if he had to wring them out of the runt’s scrawny neck with his own bare hands.

  He looked up at his deputy and actually smiled. “I think I know someone who is going to feel much more like talking than he did before.”

  “Because of the reward.”

  “That, too.”

  thirteen

  Colin paced his office like a caged lion. It had been two days since he’d seen Mary at the river. Why hadn’t he wangled an invitation for dinner at the Bryants’ then?

  Well, since he hadn’t, and Emma had yet to be in touch, he’d have to plan another ploy.

  He could always use the excuse of the U.S. marshal’s visit.

  But he wouldn’t.

  Even his deputy knew better than to take the chance of upsetting a woman so close to her time.

  He could stop by on his way to. . .wherever.

  He glowered at the pile of papers on his desk. Six months’ worth. He’d hardly made a dent. He seemed capable of little else than mooning about Mary.

  At least he’d made some inroads into finding her husband. When Ryzzi Kryzika heard about the reward, the degenerate scoundrel was sure he could be “helpful.” Colin was sure, too. For that kind of money the little ferret would turn on his own mother.

  Colin could hardly wait. Once he’d apprehended McKenzie, he expected to exert every influence to convince the thief that a quick annulment would be in his best interests.

  He raked his hand through his hair. Kryzika should have turned up something by now. It had been two days since their conversation.

  Striding over to his office window, he leaned out and peered down the street toward Ryzzi Kryzika’s “establishment.” It was mid-afternoon, and as usual, that part of the street was relatively deserted. Ryzzi’s “employees” were still asleep, and their customers didn’t come out until after dark.

  If he didn’t hear from the little runt soon, he might just be forced to send a squad down at midnight to interrupt commerce.

  Suddenly, something sparkled on a rise above the city. . . reflecting the sun. Henry’s telescope? Colin chuckled, speculating where it was directed today.

  For the first time, he felt a twinge of envy—not for Henry’s wealth, but for the stability of his life and the love of his family. Loneliness surged through C
olin. He wondered if those gifts would ever be his.

  Just as he was about to pull in his head, he saw Daniel riding at a fast clip from the opposite direction. His friend had every appearance of a man on a mission. On his way to headquarters to see Colin?

  For Mary.

  Maybe she’d gotten wind of the U.S. marshal.

  Burning with curiosity and concern, Colin hurried out of his office and down the stairs to greet his friend. He reached the street just as Daniel galloped by.

  “Daniel,” he shouted, running after him.

  Daniel didn’t stop, but reined his steed to a slower gait, allowing Colin to catch up. “Sorry. Can’t talk. I’m after the doctor.”

  “Mary?”

  Daniel nodded, visibly concerned.

  “I’ll fetch the doctor. You’re needed at home.” Colin swung around to a deputy loitering on the steps. “Saddle my horse!”

  ❧

  Daniel’s house had never seemed so far out of town, nor Dr. Lukin so slow—not even that sad night Colin had brought him for Emma.

  Turning in his saddle, Colin shouted at the lagging buggy. “Isn’t it commonplace for a woman to have problems birthing her first child?”

  The doctor stretched toward him, cupping his hand behind his ear. “What’s that?”

  “Problems,” Colin shouted louder. “Don’t some women have trouble with their first?”

  The doctor nodded. “Some do.” And he continued at the same ponderous clip.

  “This is Mrs. McKenzie’s first, you know,” Colin shouted. “Maybe we should go a little faster.”

  “She’s a strong, healthy girl. I wouldn’t worry yet,” the doctor called back, not increasing his speed by so much as a blink.

  Yet?

  Was the doctor crazy?

  If not yet, when?

  Colin was beside himself.

  “Just the normal problems,” the doctor called out.

  “Problems? What problems?”

  The fellow was so cavalier about it all. Colin could have strangled him. Didn’t he understand how fragile Mary was?