Runaway

by Heather Graham

“No, please!” she shrieked out.

  She didn’t know what would have happened. Except, at that moment, the savage land itself intervened. Clive Carter gave out a shriek of agony, and fell to his knees.

  Chapter 23

  Jarrett had seen the snake earlier. It had been curled around the limb of one of the gnarled trees that hung over the water. Water was its home, and it was comfortable in it and not content to be far from it.

  Jarrett hadn’t thought much of the snake. He knew to leave the creature alone. Anyone out here knew to leave an animal alone and stay out of its way.

  Maybe, Jarrett thought, God—or perhaps his stepmother’s Indian Great Spirit—had intervened, for it seemed now that the cottonmouth, disturbed by the fighting and shouting, had come down the branch of the tree.

  And dropped onto Clive Carter somehow. For even as the man shrieked out in his pain, the gold-toned snake was trying to slink away back down the embankment again.

  It wasn’t to be. A gun was fired by one of the army men. The snake exploded into pieces.

  And with the sound Jarrett flew into action himself.

  He raced for Clive Carter, catching the man by his hair when he would have fallen.

  He remembered that this was one enemy he could not let die.

  “I can save you from that bite!” he told the man. “You know how you die of snakebite? Slowly. The poison seeps into you. It’s agony. You twitch, you convulse. The pain is more than you can imagine and then … death. Anything is easier. A bullet through the brain is easier. Hanging is easier. Anything is less than the agony you’ll soon be writhing in!”

  Clive Carter was already feeling the seep of the poison. “Do it!” he screamed. “Do it, damn it, do it, one of you. You have to save me, you bastards, you bloody have to!”

  “I don’t have to do anything except watch you die!” Jarrett roared at him.

  Everyone was still, around them. Tyler Argosy and his men sat their horses without moving.

  The Indians, as well, remained still.

  And Clive Carter apparently believed him. “Please, God!” he cried out, his voice rising. “What do you want? Money? What? I’ll give you anything—”

  “Give me the truth!” Jarrett said. “The truth, now, here, before witnesses!”

  Carter sagged against him. “You had someone else fire the shot that killed your father,” Jarrett said, his tone merciless. “You hired someone, and you carefully planned it to make sure that everyone would be convinced Tara had killed him.”

  Carter said something.

  Jarrett tugged at his hair. “What? I didn’t hear you?”

  “Yes, for the love of God, yes! She deserved whatever happened to her! She came into my house, she tricked and deceived and seduced my father. She—”

  “She was decent to him, and you were concerned only with yourself!” Jarrett spat out. Then he realized—it didn’t matter what Carter wanted to say about Tara. None of them believed it. Tyler knew her, just as his brother knew her, and his people knew her. Words didn’t matter.

  Except those words he needed so desperately.

  The confession.

  “Damn it!” Carter raged. “Do it, do what you need to do, before God—”

  “One more thing,” Jarrett said.

  “What? For the love of God! What?”

  “You were never married to her. Never.”

  Carter mumbled something.

  “What?” it was Jarrett’s turn to demand. He dragged up Clive Carter’s head, meeting the man’s glazing eyes. He had to hurry. Cottonmouth poison traveled fast.

  “I was never married to her. The certificate is a forgery, Jenson Jones made it up for me, Jenson Jones fired the shot that killed my father.”

  There was a sudden cry from within the ranks of the army men. Jarrett realized that Jones was there, with them. “He made me do it!” the ugly little man shouted out. “He forced me, I had no choice at all, no choice—”

  Jarrett inhaled and exhaled. He stared at Tara across the damp embankment that separated them. She had never been more beautiful, her blue eyes brimming and violet with tears that did not fall. He smiled.

  He looked back to Carter. He wanted to throw the man from him.

  Let him die.

  But all of his life he had been known for keeping his word. By his white friends; by his Indian relations.

  He slipped his knife from the sheath at his calf and bent down to Carter.

  Carter started to scream anew.

  “Shut up! I have to draw the poison.”

  The snake had caught Carter midarm. Jarrett ripped up the sleeve, found the bite, and crossed it with clean slashes. He grasped the man’s arm and began to suck hard at the blood, spitting it out each time it filled his mouth.

  Carter groaned.

  And passed out cold.

  He would live, Jarrett thought.

  He stepped back, away from the fallen man. Tara came running up, throwing herself into his arms. He caught her, crushed her to him, and held tight.

  A moment later he looked up. Tyler had ridden over. Two of his men were off their horses, picking up Carter. Jenson Jones was still babbling away, claiming it had all been Carter’s fault. Tyler handed Jarrett a flask of whiskey. Jarrett rinsed the taste of blood and venom from his mouth and spat on the ground.

  “My wife isn’t going anywhere with you,” Jarrett told Tyler, returning the flask.

  Tyler nodded. “I think we can safely leave you now,” he said.

  Tyler looked over Jarrett’s shoulder. James and Osceola still sat their mounts like sentinels before the other warriors.

  Tyler lifted a hand to Osceola.

  Osceola nodded gravely.

  If they were to meet in battle, they would kill one another if they could.

  But there would be no battle today.

  Tyler lifted a hand to his men, shouting out an order. The army men turned. With Jenson Jones still claiming coercion by Carter and Carter lying over the haunches of a horse, they rode away, one by one.

  Jarrett turned. Osceola nodded to him. He and the other Seminole men turned their horses as well, and silent as the wraiths they needed to be, the Indians disappeared, one by one.

  Except for James. He dismounted and came to them both, smiling ear to ear. He took Tara gently into his arms and hugged her fiercely.

  “Thank you. Thank you!”

  “You’re the best sister-in-law a man could have,” he assured her.

  “You’re the best brother-in-law.”

  He pulled away from her, clasping his brother’s hand. “I think it’s all right to leave the two of you children now, isn’t it?”

  Jarrett smiled and nodded.

  Then James mounted again and, like the others, rode through the trees, quickly disappearing from view.

  Jarrett drew Tara into his arms again, holding her fiercely. “Oh, God!” he breathed.

  “Oh, Jarrett!” she replied, and pulled away, staring at him, her blue eyes brimming again. “Oh, Jarrett, I didn’t believe that I could be saved. But you—you—”

  “I like rescuing you,” he said.

  “Oh, God, I love you!” she whispered. Then her brows knit with concern. “Jarrett, you sucked that poison out of him. You’re going—”

  “I’m going to be fine. I was bitten when I was a boy and I’ve gained something of an immunity. I swear to you, my love, I’ll be fine.”

  She smiled. She threw herself against him again, holding tight.

  He lifted her chin, brushing her mouth with his own. Her lips were salty with the taste of her tears.

  “Let’s go home, little runaway,” he told her.

  She smiled. “A runaway no longer. For I have run home!” she whispered.

  He kissed her again. The savage wilderness surrounded him, but he knew that she was right. It was home to her, as it had been to him from the very first.

  Or perhaps home wasn’t even in this Eden he loved so much.

  They had come h
ome to one another.

  “The war—the war is far from over!” he told her huskily. “Tara, I don’t know what the future will hold.”

  “It will hold a son, so your brother says,” she told him.

  “It is a savage and dangerous land, and you were loath to come here once.”

  She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Savage, dangerous, wild—rather like the man I married. And neither of them I would ever, ever leave!” she vowed passionately.

  He smiled and swept her up into his arms and kissed her deeply before carrying her up the embankment and toward the hammock where their horses waited.

  It was time to go home. Destiny had come full circle.

  He had acquired a wife.

  And God had given him love.

  Now, they had to forge a future. Together.

  Epilogue

  It was fall. To Tara it had always been the most beautiful season. In the North the leaves on the trees would be changing to brilliant colors, the air would have a nip. Here, fall came more subtly. The dead heat of summer—and it had been dreadfully hot—was lifted. The humidity had suddenly eased as well, and the days were simply beautiful. It was still warm enough to make one want to plunge into an inviting stream or happily dangle bare toes from a log, but by night it was decidedly cool and completely comfortable.

  It had been a beautiful time to have a baby. Ian McKenzie had come into the world on October fifth. She had personally expected him to arrive on the fourth, but he had been quite stubborn, and it was long past midnight when he actually arrived. Despite all the warnings she had received from Naomi and other young mothers, she hadn’t quite been prepared for labor, and she hadn’t been entirely gracious through the ordeal, nearly breaking Jarrett’s fingers, but when it had been all over, she had experienced peace and happiness as she had never truly imagined them possible on earth. Her son was beautiful, round, healthy, with a lusty wail, huge blue eyes, and a headful of dark hair. For hours after his birth she and Jarrett had simply lain on opposite sides of him, marveling at his perfection. For that day they’d let nothing intrude. They were both dreamers and idealists, longing for such peace and perfection as this in their Eden.

  In the outside world, however, there was no peace to be had.

  The war raged on. James had led his people ever deeper into the South. The summer had been brutal. American troops had suffered cruelly from disease. Campaigns against the Indians had bogged down. With fall, and the cooler weather now arriving, the situation was due to grow worse. But she and Jarrett had long ago made the decision to stay, to do whatever they could to save the lives of innocents—white lives, red lives. They had been told they could not stay neutral. They intended to prove everyone wrong and do just that. In spite of the war, even through her pregnancy, she had managed to visit James and his family. In spite of the war James and Naomi managed to see them. They had made a silent pact. They would prevail.

  Jarrett still left upon occasion. He carried messages for the army and for the Seminoles. It never ceased to hurt. But she understood. Each time she lived for the moment he would return, and she learned not to be so afraid. They had weathered so much. They would weather more. If anything, their love grew stronger with each reunion, and for that she was heartily grateful.

  Sometimes the past seemed just a vague nightmare, and for that she was grateful as well. It was true that she had come home.

  “Tara!”

  She smiled, slipping on her second earring as she heard Jarrett’s voice from below. He was growing anxious for her to come down. He’d been very strange most of the morning and she’d been afraid that he had been biding his time before telling her about another journey he must take. But he hadn’t been grave or reserved, he had been grinning like the devil’s own imp.

  “Tara!”

  She came out on the balcony and looked down to the yard below. She frowned, seeing that Jeeves and Molly had set a table out on the lawn. The sun was beating down on the silver, the white linen tablecloth was blowing just slightly. As she looked across the yard she could see that an army ship was coming into dock.

  “Jarrett?” she questioned uneasily.

  He was just below her, near the table. He was in a black frock coat with a crisp white shirt and embroidered waistcoat beneath. His ebony hair was smoothed back, and his eyes were dark as coal as he looked up at her, a slight smile curving his lip.

  “It is not a call to duty, my love,” he assured her.

  “Then …?”

  “What is young Ian up to?”

  “Sleeping peacefully and being an angel, quite unlike his father. Jarrett, tell me what is going on!”

  “Come down here and see!” he commanded with wicked relish.

  She checked the baby in his cradle, then hurried from their room, running down the stairway and out the back. Jarrett was awaiting her impatiently, offering his arm for a stroll down to meet the docking ship.

  “You are quite certain you’re not going to surprise me with a sudden departure?”

  He shook his head.

  “Not this time.”

  “Jarrett …”

  “Behave. We’ve guests arriving. You’ll want to greet them properly.”

  She was about to argue, but words suddenly stilled within her throat. She could see the young couple and child who had come to the starboard side of the ship, ready to come ashore. She was a pretty young woman with rich brown hair and bright hazel eyes. The toddler squirming in her arms was a little boy with brown hair and blue eyes. The man was slim and tall with a fashionable mustache and rich curling blond hair.

  “William!” She gasped, staring at her brother. She spun on Jarrett, who shrugged.

  “Brother or not, you did whisper for him in your sleep. I was compelled to meet the fellow—and delighted, of course, to learn that he and his wife could manage a trip down here.”

  She threw herself into his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet. Then she raced down the dock to greet her brother, Marina, and her nephew. There was pure mayhem for a good twenty minutes. William and Marina and young Master Wyeth Brent met Jarrett. Tyler Argosy explained to Tara how he and the army men at Fort Brooke had been engaged to bring her brother and his family down the river, keeping it all a secret from her. Robert appeared even as they all made their way to the luncheon on the lawn, and the day stretched out with hours of wonder and delight. The war was forgotten; the conversation switched back and forth from plays to literature, music, infants, feedings, sleeping, and the national elections. Ole Hickory was about to leave the office of the presidency. Martin Van Buren would be taking the oath come spring.

  By nightfall, with her family tucked in for their stay, Tara was both exhausted and exhilarated. She wasn’t certain where Jarrett had gone, but she stepped outside to the porch, shivering just slightly in the night air. A full moon was out, beautiful in the black velvet heaven. A night owl cried, and she smiled, closing her eyes slightly as she listened to the flow of the river. There was another sound, something slight, just behind her. She spun around. Jarrett had come out, still so tall and striking in black, his ebony eyes giving away little, just as they had that night that seemed so long ago now in the tavern in New Orleans. He strode across the porch to her, lifted her chin, and studied her eyes.

  “Happy?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Well, I did have to meet the man of your dreams.”

  She smiled. “And now that you’ve met him?”

  “I’m quite impressed. Ian has a most literary and talented fellow for an uncle.”

  “His other uncle is equally impressive, of course.”

  Jarrett smiled, shrugging. “Of course.” She saw a sparkle against the ebony darkness of his eyes and he suddenly lifted her into his arms.

  “The army is still present, you know,” he whispered softly. “Tyler’s ship will not leave until the morning.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, you see, I have intimate plans for
my wife this evening, and I do remember once before her threatening to scream should I carry her up the stairs and to our bed.”

  Tara slipped her arm around his shoulders. “I do remember the occasion, but I don’t remember you caring much one way or the other if I did or didn’t scream!”

  “Umm. Maybe not.”

  “And you are a gambler, of course.”

  “How true.”

  He turned into the house and started up the stairs, and she smiled as he made his way to their bedroom.

  “Well, my little runaway?” he teased huskily in the darkness, laying her down upon the bed and easing himself on top of her. She saw the white flash of his smile, the glitter of his eyes, and a sweet burst of fire seemed to ignite within her.

  “Winner takes all,” she informed him solemnly. She threaded her fingers through his hair and drew him down to her. His lips found hers, and the fire burned to a steady blaze.

  Tonight would be sweet tempest.

  And life …

  Indeed, it would remain a tempest as well. Bitter and tragic at times, but precious in these moments when they could lie together in peace.

  But whatever lay ahead did not matter at this moment.

  She was indeed one runaway who had come home, into his arms. And she would stay there happily, never to run again, living with him in his paradise.

  For all of their lives.

  Chronology

  1492 Christopher Columbus discovers the “New World.”

  1513 Florida discovered by Juan Ponce de León, who sights Florida from his ship on March 27, steps on shore near present-day St. Augustine in early April.

  1539 Hernando de Soto lands on west coast of the peninsula, near present-day Tampa.

  1564 The French arrive and establish Fort Caroline on the St. Johns River. Immediately following the establishment of the French fort, Spain dispatches Pedro de Menéndez to get rid of the French invaders, “pirates and perturbers of the public peace.” Menéndez dutifully captures the French stronghold and slays or enslaves the inhabitants.

  1565 Pedro de Menéndez founds St. Augustine, the first permanent European settlement in what is now the United States.