Promise Me Forever

by Janelle Taylor

  “No I haven’t! You forget Captain Daniel Slade as victim number four. I’ll see you hanged before he’s dead and buried like the others.”

  Rachel feigned bewilderment. “Whatever are you babbling about?”

  Camellia put her flushed face close to Rachel’s lovely one. “We both know the answer to the question. Toss this one back into the pond, Rachel. You hook him and harm him and I’ll kill you myself, or • have it done for me!”

  Again, everyone present was shocked by the redhead’s icy threat, even though they all assumed she didn’t mean it.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, Miss Jones, but we’re good friends; and it will remain that way, no matter how it looks to you and to others like you. It wouldn’t shock me to find your pretty nose stuck in my current troubles. If it is, be prepared to have it cut off.”

  Camellia gaped at Rachel in disbelief. “You’re threatening me?”

  “You made the threats; mine was a warning. Despite your wealth and prestige, the authorities won’t glance the other way if you commit such a crime or pay for it to be done. I’ll be certain to mention our meeting today, in detail, to those fine investigators when we speak again. Of course, if you speak with them first, please be sure to explain your meanings clearly to them.”

  “You’ll be sorry if you try to blacken my name, you trollop.”

  “How so, dear Camellia? Please tell me more about your motives.”

  One of the woman’s friends tugged on her arm and cautioned her to self-control. Camellia scowled, but heeded her advice. “Another time, my cunning Black Widow,” she vowed. “Rest assured my eyes and ears will be on you. Make one slip and…” She slapped her hands together loudly. “You’ll be squashed like a pesky mosquito.”

  Rachel locked her gaze with Camellia’s. “Guilty or innocent, my blood on your hands would give you a thrill, wouldn’t it?”

  Before she could stop it, the reckless admission leapt from her pouty lips. “You have no idea how much.”

  Rachel grinned at that slip. “Oh, but I do,” she purred. “Take heed, for my ears and eyes are on you, • too. Who better than a twice-spurned lover, a jealous and vindictive rival, to frame the object of her despair? Did your ‘friends’ in Chief Anderson’s office disclose that unexpected angle of their case? I doubt it. If I were you, I would watch my words and guard my steps well for a while or you’ll be answering as many questions as I am.”

  Rachel turned to the uneasy jeweler, smiled, and said, “I’m sorry you had to witness such unladylike behavior from both of us, Mr. Meigs. Thank you for your kindness and assistance. Good afternoon.”

  Rachel’s head was held high and her shoulders straight as she left the others gaping after her in stunned silence. She hadn’t wanted to conduct herself that way in public, but had been given no choice except to defend herself and to hush Camellia. The bitter confrontation had drained her. Camellia’s attention was on her today, so she shouldn’t visit Dan on his ship, with or without Milton Baldwin’s escort. Nor was she in a mood to see her partner in the shipping firm. Despite how much she yearned to see her love, Rachel had Burke head the carriage homeward where she could relax and think.

  “What’s going on, Miss Rachel?” Lula Mae asked.

  Rachel caught the stern tone and serious expression on the woman’s face. She was baffled. “I told you, Lula Mae, I had a terrible quarrel with Camellia Jones in Mr. Meigs’s store. That’s why I’m so upset.”

  “I don’t means that. I mean with you and that man.”

  Rachel studied the nosy and bold woman and grasped which two words she stressed. “What do you really mean, Lula Mae?”

  “He comes here out of nowhere to sees Mr. Phillip. You sneaks off with him. He lies to the law to keeps you outta trouble. You treats him cold and mean and takes off again. You comes home and you’s friends again.”

  “I explained those reasons to you before. We are friends, Lula Mae. I was wrong about him, and wrong to be cruel to him.”

  “‘Cause he loves you and is helping you? I hope you ain’t letting him fools you like Mr. Newman did.”

  Rachel told herself the woman was controlled by worry and affection for her, but she was nevertheless vexed with Lula. “Dan is nothing like Craig Newman, nothing.”

  The housekeeper frowned. “No more ‘Captain Slade,’ is it?”

  Rachel hoped the woman would realize soon how much she was provoking her mistress and how difficult it was to master her annoyance and to withhold a stern rebuke. “Is there something wrong with us being friends?”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  Calmly, but strongly, Rachel replied, “I do.”

  “Too much, too soon, I’m afeared. It’ll stir up more trouble.”

  “What reason do you have to dislike and mistrust Dan?”

  “In here,” the woman said, pointing to her stomach to indicate an instinct. “It tells me, and it ain’t never been wrong.”

  It is this time, Rachel’s mind argued. “Don’t worry, Lula Mae,” her gentle tone advised, “I’m walking slowly and carefully and with my eyes open wide. I won’t be hurt or tricked again.”

  “I got reasons to worry and not believe you, Miss Rachel. I seed them pitchers in your room. I seed hows you two was with each other.”

  “What pitchers?” she queried, failing to understand the woman’s pronunciation of pictures.

  “Them of you and him on that sneaky trip, them pitchers in your drawer.”

  Comprehension filled Rachel and angered her. What she’d endured today atop her current troubles and perils caused her to lose control. “You’ve been looking through my things to check out your crazy suspicion? It’s none of your business, Lula Mae!”

  The woman took that scolding as an affront. Her shoulders jerked back and her body stiffened as her cheeks flushed. “I was putting away your warsh and seed them. You got so much on you these days, I was trying to do more chores to help you. This ain’t no way to thank me or be kind.”

  Despite that explanation and the woman’s hurt feelings, Rachel was miffed. “Why didn’t you leave it on my bed as usual?”

  “I told you,” the simple woman said, “I thawt it would help you. When I seed them pitchers, I was scared. I thawt you was gitting yourself into a fix with him. I don’t want you hurt more.”

  “You mustn’t fret.” She explained about the party in Augusta and alleged the pictures were George Leathers’ idea, since at that time he believed they were cousins and they would make nice keepsakes. “There’s no harm in having them made and in keeping them.”

  “Could be, if the wrong eyes sees them. Best to git rid of them.”

  Rachel envisioned burning those heart-stirring souvenirs and shuddered. She tried to soothe the woman’s fears with deceit. “I’ve done nothing wrong with him, so why should I? They’re lovely, and I looked my best that night. Besides, worrier, Dan is an old and dear friend of Phillip’s, so why would anyone find our behavior offensive or wicked?”

  “You forgitting the past,” Lula Mae pointed out, “them investigations, the dangers you’re in, those loose tongues awagging. It be crazy to look close to a man at this time. You know what mean folks will say; that you done chose number four and were acourting him afore Mr. Phillip was cold and stiff.”

  She and Dan were being careful to conceal their relationship so it shouldn’t create more problems for her. “I’ll have to take that risk, Lula Mae; I can’t give up all my male friends and acquaintances to prevent more rumors. Gossip will plague me anyway.”

  “It’s them kind of men that’s harmed you worst, Miss Rachel. Keep ‘em away till this trouble be over,” she urged.

  “I don’t know how long that will be, Lula Mae. I doubt my file has been closed once since it was started years ago. No matter what I say or do, someone will find fault with it. I must live as normally as possible.”

  “Even if such foolishness gits you hurt?”

  “I’ll have to be the judge of what’s best fo
r me—not you or anyone else. I’m sorry if that sounds mean, but I have to rule my life from now on.”

  “You ain’t never shut the door in my face afore. It’s him, ain’t it? He’s the cause of you acting like this.”

  Rachel thought the woman sounded jealous and possessive; her resentment and intrusion were blatantly obvious. To keep peace, she said, “I’m under a heavy strain, Lula Mae. Dan is a big help and comfort. I need that support and strength right now. He isn’t pushing himself on me.”

  “He wants you, Miss Rachel. He’s achasing you. Cain’t you see that?”

  “Even if that were true—”

  “He’s gonna git you. I jest know it. I can feel it. It scares me.”

  Rachel was distressed by the woman’s uncharacteristic behavior. She asked herself if the housekeeper was addle brained today. Or perhaps Lula Mae was only worried about her mistress losing everything and sending both out on their own again. Maybe the woman was scared she would run off with Dan and leave her to fend for herself.

  “All I can say is calm down,” Rachel appeased, “and thank you for such love and concern. I’ll be fine, Lula Mae; we all will. This should be over soon, and things will be back to normal at Moss Haven.”

  As she shook her head, strands of Lula Mae’s drab brown hair broke free of its confining bun. Her dark-brown eyes dulled with sadness.

  “No ma’am, Miss Rachel, not this time, not ever again. I jest knows it. You gonna be hurt real bad this time. Lord have mercy on me; I cain’t stops you from doing wrong. What’s gonna happen to all of us?”

  “Give me love and trust, and a lot of patience and understanding, Lula Mae, and I promise to make things better for us soon. I can’t concentrate on solving our problems if we’re quarreling. Please help me.”

  “You wouldn’t break your word to me?”

  “No, dear friend, never. As long as we’ve been together and as much as we’ve shared and endured, you shouldn’t even have to ask that.”

  “You’re right, Miss Rachel. I’m ashamed of myself. I’ll help you.”

  “Thank you, Lula Mae. I’ll take a long and cool bath in the wash shed. After my trip today, I’m hot and tense and dusty.”

  “That’s jest what you need. I’ll git everything fixed. When I’m done, I’ll cook you the best supper you’ve ever had.”

  Rachel didn’t argue with her over preparing the bath. “That’s kind of you, dear friend. I’ll go get my things and meet you in the wash shed. Remember where I told you I hid the cashbox if you need any for shopping. I don’t want anything happening to the last of our money.”

  “Lord, have mercy on us, it best not.”

  At seven, Daniel Slade arrived to call on Rachel. He noticed how the protective housekeeper frowned at him when she opened the door. With few words, she guided him into the parlor and went upstairs.

  Within minutes, a smiling Rachel entered the room and greeted him. Both were aware of the older woman’s presence in the server where she was clearing away dinner dishes and leftover food. Rachel offered Dan refreshments, but he refused. They carried on a casual, genial, and innocent conversation until Lula Mae finished her work and left the house.

  “Why didn’t you come to visit me today?” Dan asked. “I waited and worried all afternoon. You did say Friday, didn’t you?”

  Rachel related her confrontation with Camellia Jones in the jewelry shop. “After that, I decided my mood would be better on Monday. I’m sorry you worried. I should have sent you a message, but I assumed you’d realize something had happened to prevent my coming, such as Milton being unavailable.”

  “That hateful witch,” Dan muttered. He wondered what, if Rachel was low on money, she was doing in a jewelry shop? “Why were you there?” he blurted out.

  Rachel decided to be honest with him. Dan appeared shocked and dismayed that things were that bad for her.

  “Don’t worry about the money, Rachel; I’ll give you what you need. How much will it take to clear up your problems?”

  “None now, but thank you. If things get bad, I’ll tell you.”

  “You shouldn’t have to sell your jewelry to support yourself. Are you too proud to accept a gift or a loan from me?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I don’t want to depend on you or anyone right now. I must stand strong and tall to take care of myself.” While she spoke, Rachel observed Lula Mae lurking near a side window. She was furious, but she didn’t let on she had sighted the housekeeper. She tapped her lips with her forefinger to indicate silence to Dan. “Lula Mae at window,” she mouthed, then winked at him and grinned as she set out to dupe the woman. “You were a good friend to Phillip, and you’ve been a good one to me. I appreciate all you’ve done and are doing to help me through this difficult period. If I need a loan to carry me to better days, I’ll come see you. I have to be in town on Monday for business; perhaps we can have lunch and chat longer. I’m afraid I’m very tired tonight, if you don’t mind.”

  Dan caught the clues for a meeting in a few days. He was vexed with Lula Mae for spoiling their visit and intrigued by the woman’s stealthy conduct. He kept his voice and expression amiable as he said, “I understand, Rachel. Things like that are exhausting. Lunch Monday sounds enjoyable. Please don’t hesitate to send Burke for me if you need anything or there’s more trouble here. Why don’t you see me out so you can rest?”

  “Thank you, Dan,” she said as they headed into the hallway. “That’s very kind and generous of you.”

  The moment the walls on either side concealed them from view, they embraced and kissed. Their mouths feasted wildly and swiftly. Both knew the daring woman might come inside if they lingered too long.

  “I’ll see you Monday on your ship,” she whispered.

  “I love you, Rachel;” he whispered. “You’ll love me, too, one day.”

  “Could any woman resist you very long?” She grinned. “Who could possibly compete with or compare to you, Daniel Slade?”

  “No one, I hope.”

  “Get along with you. I’ll explain everything in detail Monday.”

  He kissed her and hugged her once more. “Good night, love.”

  She traced her fingers over his enticing mouth. “Good night, Dan.”

  Rachel opened the door and walked onto the porch with him. After exchanging waves she stood there while he mounted and departed. She went inside, locked the doors, the windows, then doused the lamps and went upstairs. She peered out the water closet window that overlooked the other structure and saw light glowing on the ground outside Lula Mae’s quarters behind the kitchen. Rachel decided the woman had hurried to her room while Dan was galloping away toward town.

  The widow was curious about why her longtime and loyal housekeeper would spy on her, on them. Was it from loving concern? Or something else? Dan’s past speculations about another person being responsible for her misfortunes haunted her mind. If he was right, it had to be someone who had begun their evil work after she wed her first husband.

  She asked herself again, as she had years ago, if Lula Mae had loved and wanted William Barlow. If so, had the unmarried woman felt betrayed when he chose a young and beautiful wife over an older and plain one? Lula Mae had visited them that fateful last day. Lula Mae had detested Craig Newman, and also had visited them on his ill-fated last day. Lula Mae had tried to persuade her not to marry Phillip, had warned her it would end in trouble. During the month before Phillip’s death, Lula Mae had acted strangely around him, as if angry with him.

  While Rachel was away with Dan, the older woman had their schedule and would have had the opportunity to contact the law. Maybe Lula Mae was smarter than she let on; maybe she could write a legible note like the one quoted to her by the investigator. Maybe the older woman hated all men; she certainly made enough statements to imply that feeling.

  William Barlow and his son… Craig Newman … Phillip McCandless… Could an embittered spinster and alleged friend…

  Don’t think such wicked and crazy th
oughts! Rachel cautioned herself. Lula Mae Morris is strange at times, but she couldn’t be capable of four murders!

  After receiving that letter from her mother, Rachel knew that Earl Starger had alibis on two crucial occasions. And he would never hire someone to do such crimes for him in the first place. He would do them himself with sadistic delight! It couldn’t be her lecherous stepfather.

  Camellia Jones? She was mean, but a doubtful suspect.

  Craig’s brother Paul? Hateful and spiteful, but also a doubtful suspect.

  Rachel couldn’t think of anyone else with a motive to kill her husbands or a satanic desire to destroy her. That eliminated everyone she knew! It compelled her to return to her wild theory about a jinx or a curse!

  Suddenly, a terrible thought entered her mind. The doctor working on Craig’s accident for the authorities had asked her if she ever suffered from blackouts or fainting spells. He had mentioned people doing things and not remembering them, and not being responsible legally for their actions during those times. She had believed then it was a trick to make her confess to escape arrest. Later, Phillip had explained such a mental condition—illness—truly existed.

  The past flooded her distraught brain. When William’s son died, she had been napping; it had been his scream—hadn’t it?—that awakened her. When William died, she had been asleep in another room. When Craig took his fall, she hadn’t heard any scream he might have let out because she had fainted while working in the garden beneath a hot sun and assailed by anxieties, and possibly from the strain of being pregnant, which she hadn’t known at that time. When Phillip had died, she had been asleep in another room.

  Could a person, she fretted in panic, do such horrible things and not realize them? Could one have an evil side that stayed concealed from even the person in question? Could there be a wicked force, another Rachel, living secretly and working insidiously within her? Had Earl’s lechery and her hatred of him have birthed another being inside her?

  God help me, surely not. That’s crazy, impossible. Isn’t it? she thought in confusion.

  Rachel asked herself how she could make certain, and she couldn’t think of an answer. She dared not go to a doctor, which might mean exposure! If her theory was true and she was dangerous and if a Black Widow curse ruled her other nature, her beloved Dan could be…