Promise Me Forever

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by Janelle Taylor


  This time, their car was filled with people, and Rachel and Dan were sitting across from each other. The noise made conversation difficult, so they soon ceased trying to communicate with curious listeners nearby. For a while, they gazed out the windows as they passed forests of pine and hardwoods. Grass was long and green in the fields, wildflowers were abundant and colorful, and stock grazed in contentment. Fields were plowed and planted with a variety of crops, many in cotton or wheat or oats, but sometimes in seemingly endless rows of tobacco and corn.

  Both held books they had purchased to while away the hours, but mainly used them to keep from staring at each other. Their knees often touched as the train veered around a bend or they altered their positions, as the seats faced each other. They would glance up then, smile, gaze a moment, then focus their eyes on pages which hadn’t turned in a long time.

  The sea captain watched his bewildering sister-inlaw from beneath lowered lashes. He wondered if Rachel could suffer from a strange mental derangement that compelled her to mate and kill. What if she couldn’t help herself and didn’t even remember doing those vile deeds once they were over? How could he find out for sure? Marry her and let her attempt to murder him seemed the only answer.

  He speculated about a pattern to the mysterious deaths. Nothing about the three men or her mating schedule seemed to match. If the devastating war had done something to her mind, and her motive was determination never to be poor or vulnerable again, but she had the missing money hidden and would soon have Phillip’s inheritance, she could spend a year in disarming mourning as she had before marrying Phillip. That lengthy timing would put a snag in his ruse to romance, wed, and then expose her.

  It was easier to blame a madness that she wasn’t even aware of for her insidious actions than to believe this woman could be capable of plotting and carrying out four cold-blooded murders. That would explain why she didn’t act guilty and how she kept from dropping any incriminating clues.

  If he doubted her guilt in the least, he couldn’t do anything necessary to destroy her. But if she were only clever, dangerous, and daring, and if she had defeated the law many times and gone free, he had no choice but to use any ploy to entrap her. Soon he would know which course to sail with her.

  There were routine stops in numerous towns along the route to let passengers on and off and to unload or load freight. They had their longest one at Union Point, where the tracks forked to head either right with a branch to Athens or left along the mainline to Atlanta. They ate lunch at a small cafe near the depot. Afterward, they took a muscle-loosening stroll. They didn’t stray far from the small station as they walked along the tracks on a dirt road and looked at the landscape. Verdant leaves mingled with white or pink flowers on plum, peach, and pear trees. Sunny daffodils and purple rabbit’s ears blossomed in a profusion of beauty nearby.

  “I love spring,” Rachel murmured as she watched bees and butterflies at work amidst the blooms. She saw birds searching for worms, bugs, and insects. She noticed tall green pines reaching for a sky that was cloudless and a rich blue. A mild breeze stirred the flora and leaves. “Everything is so alive and vivid, as if all things are filled with magical energy and eagerness. Everything’s reborn, given a new chance to be better than before. It’s inspirational, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve never thought of it that way, but it’s true. You’re a very sensitive woman, Rachel McCandless. You constantly amaze me and—”

  The whistle blew its warning to reboard, to which the conductor added his shout. “We’d better get back to the train. We don’t want to get stranded here until the next one comes along tomorrow.”

  The engine and line of cars halted on Carr’s Hill, across from the one-hundred-fifty-foot-wide Oconee River and east of Athens. No trestle had been constructed for it to continue on into town, and wouldn’t be until 1881. Warehouses, a depot, and several freight, stage, and carriage companies were located at the terminus of the Georgia Railroad and lined both sides of the tracks with structures of various sizes. Hack drivers, drayers, and freight haulers met the train to compete for business. After the baggage was unloaded, separated, and claimed by passengers, returning residents and visitors were taken across the bridge and into town.

  Rachel and Dan’s carriage climbed a steep slope which was lined with homes, a canebrake, woods, and cornfields. Their driver, a student at the local college, filled their heads with facts. Athens, located below the stirrings of the Blue Ridge Mountains, was nestled among the rolling hills of North Georgia, which were covered with pines, hardwoods, and red clay. Named after Athens, Greece—another city of beauty, prosperity, and culture situated atop scenic hills—it was a town of wealth and refinement, of education and industry, of enormous homes, and a mixture of both hurried and relaxed lifestyles. If they wished to tour the city later, he asked that they please hire him as their guide, as he needed the money for tuition. Rachel told him of course they would if their schedules matched.

  The driver halted at their hotel. Across the street was the University of Georgia campus, established ninety years ago. Dan paid the student, who eagerly rushed away for another pickup.

  The Newton House Hotel was a three-story, redbrick structure with white decorative work over its numerous windows. On the second floor, a free-hanging covered porch ran half the length of the Broad Street side and half the width of the College Avenue side. Double doors with glass sidelights and oblong fanlights led into a well-furnished lobby. Two polite bellmen lifted their baggage from the stone sidewalk and carried it into the hotel. It was lovely, the couple remarked, as grand as the Planter’s Hotel in Augusta.

  They registered and were shown to their rooms, which were across the hall from each other. It was six o’clock and they were hungry, so they decided to eat before unpacking and resting. They locked their doors and went to locate the dining room, to find it another cozy setting.

  “Tomorrow morning we’ll visit Harrison Clements and see what he has to tell us. I wonder what it will be …” she murmured.

  Chapter 8

  On Tuesday, the sixth of April, Rachel and Dan hired a carriage that took them down Broad Street to the Oconee River to the Athens Arms Company owned by Harrison Clements and Phillip McCandless.

  Before they knocked on the office door, Rachel reminded Dan: “Don’t forget what I told you at breakfast; Harry is smart and tough, so we have to move slower and easier with him than we did with George.”

  Dan eyed her. “You don’t like him very much, do you?”

  “I don’t know him well, but he hasn’t made a good impression on me. He seems smart in business, but there’s something about him that makes me wary. I’m sure you’ll see what I mean. It’s his eyes. He has a disconcerting and sneaky way of squinting them or lifting one brow. I never feel comfortable around him. See if he strikes you the same way. Phillip claims I’m being foolish.”

  Dan shook his head. “I’ve never seen you be foolish, Rachel. I’ll watch him closely. I’m sure you’re right. Something has to be lurking below his surface or you wouldn’t have doubts about him.”

  “Thanks for your confidence in me. Let’s go face the lion in his den,” she jested with a smile.

  Dan heard men talking, so he didn’t knock. He simply opened the door to catch the part-owner off guard. He pushed the door aside and stepped back to allow Rachel to enter first.

  The man who had been sitting lazed back in a chair, his legs propped on his desk, got to his feet with speed and agility. The two men with him merely turned in their seats to see what had caused their friend’s curious reaction.

  “Rachel McCandless! What are you doing here?” Harrison Clements asked, sounding as if she were an annoying intrusion.

  “Harry, how nice to see you again,” Rachel murmured in a sweet and soft southern drawl. She smiled as she slowly walked toward his desk. “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything, gentlemen.”

  “Not really,” the man with thick and wiry flaxen hair replied. His light-blue
eyes narrowed, then one brow lifted quizzically. “What are you doing here?” he repeated as he came around the desk to meet her.

  Phillip’s warning, “Don’t double cross Harry and the…” raced through her mind. She cautioned herself to be careful around Harry, who possibly was her enemy. With feigned vivacity, she related the same false tale she had told George about Phillip’s sudden business trip up North and her holiday with her “cousin,” whom she introduced. If Harry recognized Dan’s name, it didn’t show, and Rachel was relieved. “I thought a visit with you and a company tour would be nice today if it’s no bother. If you’re busy….”

  “Let me finish with these gentlemen, and I’ll be with you two.”

  Rachel watched Harry guide the two men to the door, step outside to speak a few words in a lowered tone, then return to her. While he was doing so, she studied the man’s boxy face, chiseled features, and deep-clefted chin. He looked as if he spent a great deal of time outdoors, as his skin was dark and his hair appeared sun-streaked. Harry held himself stiffly, as if he were annoyed and on alert; and she was certain it was her unexpected arrival that caused his reaction. She noticed there had been no introductions of her and Dan, which seemed rude.

  Harry joined the couple inside his office, next to the arms company along the Oconee River. His ice-blue gaze roamed her face as he asked, “Now, what’s this about Phillip taking off to places unknown?”

  Putting on an innocent expression, she shrugged. “He left on business right after your visit,” she said casually. “He said he’d be gone for six to seven weeks. Baltimore was his first stop, but he could be anywhere by now. That naughty husband of mine hasn’t even contacted me yet.”

  Harry glued his eyes to Rachel’s face. “Why did he go? What kind of business?” he asked in an almost demanding tone.

  Rachel grasped the man’s surprise and suspicion. “I haven’t the faintest idea, Harry. Phillip said it was urgent and unexpected. He said he had to handle it promptly and it would require that long.”

  “That should put him back home the first or second week of May.”

  After he frowned and narrowed his gaze once more, Rachel asked, “Is there a problem? Phillip didn’t mention one before he left home suddenly.”

  “No, I just wanted to see him before the fourteenth of next month.”

  Harry sat down, but didn’t ask Rachel or Dan to take seats. He looked worried, and she surmised that it was because he would be out of a big profit if Phillip spoiled their secret deal. He probably wished he himself had handled the negotiations and collected the advance. He had to be angry with Phillip for concealing the money and perhaps refusing to pass it along to the company, or to him. “May we sit?” she asked.

  “Of course. I’m sorry, but I have things on my mind today.”

  He didn’t appear sincere, but Rachel pretended not to notice. “We just left Augusta and a wonderful visit with George and Molly Sue. They showed us around town and kept us busy for six days. They’re so nice and hospitable, but of course you know that about them. George mentioned a large arms and ammunition deal the two companies are doing together. Is that what you’re concerned about, Harry? I know Phillip’s a partner and he’s away now, but he doesn’t normally handle much of the two companies’ affairs. He leaves most of that to you and George.”

  Harrison Clements stared at her a moment, his probing gaze digging into hers to uncover clues. “We don’t have any problems with any of our contracts, Rachel,” he answered, “I only wanted to discuss an expansion during the early summer with him. I was just wondering why Phillip didn’t mention this trip to me when we talked on the twenty-fifth.”

  He’s probably asking himself if I know anything, Rachel mused. Did Phillip send me here on a factgathering mission? What did Phillip’s secret trip mean? Rachel pushed aside such speculation. “I don’t know. Unless,” she created with a bright smile, “it was because he didn’t know about it when you were there. A telegram arrived early Friday morning and he left soon after your departure by train. A little sooner, and you two might have run into each other in town.”

  Harry leaned forward. “A telegram? From whom? From where?”

  Rachel felt a surge of power and excitement at tricking this unlikable man. “He didn’t say. He only said he had to sail to Baltimore for six to seven weeks about a new investment, something urgent and sudden. You sure there isn’t a problem? You seem disturbed by this news.”

  Harry straightened. “No problems, Rachel. I just need an agreement about the expansion before May fourteenth so I can sign the contract and hire a builder. This time of year, they get busy and filled up fast. When you hear from Phillip, tell him to contact me immediately. Maybe that urgent business was why he was in such a bad mood during my last visit.”

  Rachel noticed he didn’t say to ask him, but demanded to tell him. She also caught the sarcasm in his voice during his last statement. As sweetly as she could manage, she replied, “I didn’t notice a foul mood before or after your visit with us. He did seem preoccupied, but not upset. You know Phillip; he always keeps his worries to himself. He was excited over a new prospect when he left; he said he would surprise me with good news when he returns. I can hardly wait to see what he’s getting involved with this time. He needs so many different interests to keep him interested.”

  “Just tell him to cable me as soon as possible.”

  “I will.” She changed the subject. “May we tour the company? Dan and I would love to see how guns are made.”

  Harry glanced at the stranger with her. “It has to be quick and quiet; the men are busy and I don’t like to distract them. Errors in products cost money, and even lives sometimes. Follow me,” he instructed.

  As they did, Dan winked at her and nodded his approval of her conduct.

  Rachel sent him a warm smile of gratitude. He had kept silent but watchful during her talk with Harry and she appreciated his assistance.

  Harry showed them into the factory where many men were laboring to make parts or to assemble them. They stopped only a few minutes at each work station, and no introductions were made. Harry pointed out the construction methods and gave them the names of parts. He showed them how breech action worked on a rolling block rifle and moved on to where a lever-action rifle was being put together and explained its functions.

  As if she was ignorant of gun-making, Rachel observed and merely asked a simple occasional question. Yet she paid close attention to the diagrams the men used, and made an astonishing discovery. She stared at the weapon design, an old Henry model that had been improved later by Winchester. When Harry exhibited the next model, she recognized it as a Spencer, a lever-action repeater with a spring mechanism that held the cartridges in the butt…She knew those facts from the manuals Phillip had given her to study.

  “We also make and sell slings, swivels, and sights. We have a testing range outside town; I do most of that job. Laying a rifle gives me a thrill. Pardon me, Rachel, that means to adjust the sight to compensate for any left, right, or downward drift of a cartridge after it’s fired.”

  Expert with a rifle, like the villain who shot at me? “How fascinating. You must be an excellent shot.”

  “I am,” he admitted without modesty.

  Rachel wondered how Harry and Phillip had gotten their hands on registered designs. Had they purchased the rights to use them, or had they stolen them and used them illegally? She thought it best not to ask any questions in that area, since they would reveal her knowledge on the subject. If stolen, exposure could ruin the company and could lose her the truth. She could not understand why Phillip, if he had known, could be involved in criminal activities. Had she misjudged him, as she had Craig? Whatever the truth, she must wait until later to deal with it.

  On the way out of the factory, Harry remarked, “We used to make arms for Winchester and Remington when they were too busy to fill all their orders. After the weapons were constructed, we’d ship them to their companies to have their trademarks placed
on our superb workmanship. When they expanded, they didn’t need our help anymore. I hated to lose those valuable contracts, but that’s how things go in business.”

  Rachel remembered being told how surplus arms had gone on sale after the war. It would have been simple for a skilled gunmaker to get his hands on certain models, take them apart, study their workings, then draw his own patterns. No matter that it was stealing the inventors’ ideas, works protected by law. Phillip had never mentioned buying licenses to use those patents; since he had taught her so much, he wouldn’t have overlooked that important fact. Yet, how could Harry do that foul deed without Phillip’s knowledge and consent?

  “You two will have dinner with me Friday night,” Harry said. “I’ll send word where to meet me. You are staying at the Newton House again?”

  Rachel faked a smile. “Yes, we are, and thank you for the invitation.”

  “Well, now if you don’t mind, I do have work to do this afternoon.”

  Not so polite a dismissal, she mentally scoffed. “Thank you for taking the time to show us around. We’ll see you Friday night.”

  “You said you’re planning on sightseeing?” Harry hinted.

  “Yes, we’re going to do just that,” Dan said.

  “Nice to meet you, Harry, and thanks for the tour,” Dan said. “I’ve never been inside a gun company before. Quite interesting.”

  “I’m certain you’ll have a good time with your cousin this week. If you need anything, send word to me.”

 

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