Seeking the Shore

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Seeking the Shore Page 23

by Donna Gentry Morton


  For now, all Leyton could do was wait for Jimmy Mac and Chester to stop moseying outside the kitchen, drawing circles in the dirt with the toes of their boots, and kicking up dust clouds while waiting for supper. Jimmy Mac’s dog was with them, looking depressed as he lay on the porch, seeming to know that his scraps would be coming later than usual.

  Leyton glared at his watch, wondering what the delay was in serving the men their dinner. Finally, they shuffled inside, the screen door slamming behind them. The dog stood outside the door, dancing anxiously to the tune of its own whining.

  It was Leyton’s signal to start moving.

  When Scotty and Tucker had left, and Cassie had hurried to the kitchen to whip up a late dinner for Jimmy Mac and Chester, Julianna sat in the drawing room. Not As It Seems rested in her lap.

  “He did try to reach me,” she whispered as her finger traced the title on the jacket. In a roundabout way, he tried.

  She opened the book and read at random, seeing passages she had read before, back in Ambrose Point when Jace had trusted her with his words. His writing had expanded from what she saw in the early manuscript, painting images of high seas and glorious ships, or war and romance, and also of a man and a woman, a dark-haired woman with green eyes and a father who planned every phase of her life. She loved a man no one thought she should love, and the obstacles tossed before her seemed all too familiar to Julianna. She knew this character like she knew herself.

  Flipping back to the dedication, Julianna read it at least ten times.

  To the woman who inspired me to finish this. She’ll know who she is.

  And she did. She flushed at the realization, too overwhelmed to sit still. She got up and paced the room, then wandered into the darkened dining room. There was so much racing through her mind, so much to let settle and so much to look forward to.

  She had wanted to go the train station with Tucker, but he had suggested that she stay at the house.

  “Jace doesn’t know you thought he was dead,” Tucker had explained. “Let me go meet him—that’ll be a surprise in itself—and have a chance to prepare him, just like I was able to do for you.”

  “But you’ll bring him to me? Tonight?”

  “Not a day later.” Tucker had smiled as he left her with her anticipation and dreams.

  To see his face again . . .

  She glanced in the gold-framed mirror that hung in the dining room, then opened her mouth to scream. Terror poured into her like concrete and froze her solid, rendering her paralyzed as she stared at a reflection other than her own.

  There was just enough light spilling in from the hallway to let her make out the face.

  It was Leyton. He was standing right behind her, smiling.

  Audrey was fed up with Nurse No-Nonsense. They had argued all afternoon about that pecan pie, but now Audrey was going to have her way. The nurse was asleep in the chair beside the bed, her head slumped to one side, glasses balanced on the tip of her nose.

  Audrey crept from bed and tiptoed to the door, eased it open, and slipped into the hall. She glanced from side to side and then scurried to the back stairwell that wound down to the kitchen.

  Oh, there it is, she thought when she saw the pie sitting on the counter, made just for her with fresh pecans. She helped herself to a slice and took a bite, closing her eyes in pure joy as she savored the sweetness.

  Luscious. Simply luscious.

  She carried her plate through the dimly lit kitchen and headed for the dining room. Pushing open the swinging door, she stopped cold, startled to see Leyton hovering over Julianna.

  Quietly, she retreated back into the kitchen.

  Leyton’s hand clamped over Julianna’s mouth.

  “I have a gun, love,” he warned, voice raspy from two nights in the cold. “Don’t tempt me to use it.”

  She felt the gun against her back, and her eyes darted about in fear as she wondered if he would really kill her. Obviously, he had some kind of use for her, so she was hopeful he wouldn’t pull the trigger. Then again, he might be happy with any hostage, and that made her fear for everyone else in the house, especially Mari.

  This was no time to test him. She nodded her compliance.

  “Don’t scream,” he advised as he slowly removed his hand. “Now, you’re going to go with me, aren’t you? Nice and quiet, right past the police and to your car?”

  “What are you planning to do?” she whispered.

  “Kidnap you,” he said into her ear. “I think Daddy will pay for your return. Your mother will want you back, anyway.”

  “Just tell me one thing,” she said, voice shaking. “One thing, and I’ll make sure you get everything you ask for.”

  “And what’s that, love?”

  “Back in Ambrose Point—”

  “That’s ancient history,” he said. “Let’s talk about the future. My future.”

  “An FBI agent came to the hotel I was at. Who talked to him?”

  He laughed lightly. “Why, you did, love.”

  “You know it wasn’t me.”

  “Then I guess it was someone who said she was you. It’s always amazed me what a girl will do for a little money.” He nudged her with the revolver. “Let’s go.”

  So that was it. He had brought in someone to pretend to be her. She would never have the details, but they mattered little. She knew enough to fill the hole.

  He brought his face next to hers, his beard growth burning her skin. “I said, let’s go.”

  She took small steps toward the door that led into the hallway. How quiet the house seemed, how vacant . . .

  But then, she heard a sound she couldn’t identify. It was solid, a thong that wavered on into a deep echo.

  Leyton cried out and fell to the floor, the gun dropping from his grip. Julianna switched on the overhead light and met the rounded eyes of her mother. They held more than one emotion, from disbelief to terror to, just maybe, a twinkle of amusement.

  Her mother wasn’t known for her culinary skills, and it was doubtful she could tell an eggbeater from a spatula. Tonight, though, she had discovered the perfect use for one particular kitchen staple.

  She considered the frying pan in her hands. “You know, Julianna, I believe this is the first time I’ve ever used one of these things.”

  Leyton groaned and tried to sit up. He looked jarred and stunned, putting a shaking hand to the top of his head.

  “He’s not unconscious,” Julianna said as she made a grab for the revolver on the floor. She shuddered as she picked it up, remembering what had happened the last time her quivering hands held a weapon. She couldn’t let the memory stop her from acting, though. They had to escape and leave him defenseless.

  “Oh dear, I thought I had bonked him better than that,” her mother lamented. She looked at the frying pan now resting on the dining room table. “Shall I hit him again? Harder?”

  “No, let’s just get the police in here.”

  They hurried for the doorway, reaching it just as Leyton managed to rise to his knees. Julianna shooed her mother into the hallway and was about follow when Leyton lunged, grabbing her around both ankles and causing her to fall face forward. The gun sailed from her hands and hit the floor, then skidded against the baseboard.

  “Get the police!” she shouted to her mother.

  As her mother ran, Leyton scrambled across Julianna to retrieve the gun. The two police officers barged through the foyer, guns raised. They found him standing over her, his own revolver pointed at her back.

  “Drop the gun,” one of them ordered.

  Leyton laughed, then winced. “You drop the gun.”

  “Don’t make it worse, Drakeworth.”

  He kicked Julianna in the side. “Get up, love. We’re leaving.”

  When she got to her feet, he pulled her against him and jammed the gun into her lower back. He jerked his head toward the front door and spoke to the officers. “Throw down your guns and your little walkie-talkies, then get outside. If I come out a
nd see that you’ve gone around the house to get your comrades on the back porch,” he rammed one knee into the soft flesh behind Julianna’s knee, causing hers to buckle, “she dies.”

  The officers did as told, looking helpless as they followed Leyton’s orders and moved toward the front door. Unarmed and out of communication with their fellow officers, they joined a shivering Audrey on the front porch.

  Leyton guided Julianna through the hallway and foyer, smirking with his success so far. A few steps from the front door, though, his sneer of self-pleasure disappeared, angered by a booming voice from behind.

  “No, sir!” Cassie shouted as she charged from the rear, her coffee eyes bulging in fury. “You’ll not take that child from this house!” She jumped in front of Julianna and Leyton, blocking the doorway with her large frame.

  “Cassie, no!” Julianna said in a terrified whisper. “He’s got a gun. He’ll kill you if you don’t move!”

  “Fine,” Cassie hissed, staring into Leyton’s eyes. “I’ve lived up over fifty years, but Julianna’s got to raise her baby. You want to take someone, Mr. Leyton, then you take me, you hear? You take me.”

  “Take you?” He threw back his head roared with laughter. “A black slave? A black slave woman? You’re worthless to me.”

  Julianna grew rigid with anger. “How dare you speak to Cassie that way!”

  He dug the nozzle of the gun deeper into her back. “Mind how you speak to me, love. Need I remind you who has the gun and is willing to unload it into your back?”

  Julianna looked pleadingly at Cassie. “Do what he says. As soon as he has what he wants, everything will be fine.”

  Cassie swallowed back tears. “No, child, I fear it won’t be. If you go with this devil, I know in my heart that we’ll never see you alive again.”

  Leyton sighed, sounding like a man exasperated by arguing children. He impatiently yanked the gun from Julianna’s back, warning her as he did. “If you try anything, love, anything, your slave woman will pay.” He pointed the revolver at Cassie’s chest. “Get out of the way.”

  Cassie stood to her full height and braced her shoulders. “No. I won’t do it.”

  “Cassie!” Julianna cried. “Don’t test him!”

  But Cassie was wearing the Lord’s armor tonight, and was militant in her resolve not to be intimidated. Proving that she was a slave woman to no one, she refused to obey Leyton’s orders and heed Julianna’s warnings.

  “Go ahead and shoot, Mr. Leyton,” she calmly invited, a smile playing at her lips. “I can’t wait to see God’s face.” She cocked her head and eyed him with a challenge. “What about you?”

  His eyes turned metal gray, churning with the violence of a desperate and cornered man. He raised the gun in the air. “I’ve no time for sermons,” he hissed as he brought the gun down against Cassie’s head, the blow bringing a trickle of blood down one side of her face. The attack knocked her off guard, causing her to stumble against a curio by the door. Leyton shoved her then, and she fell to the ground, taking the curio with her and landing amid shards of glass.

  Julianna screamed, but Leyton silenced her by whipping the gun back to her spine. “Imagine your girl growing up without her mother,” he said, grinning as her breath quickened. “I could arrange that, and maybe I should. Your own mother is right out there on the porch, so I’m thinking that I should shoot you and grab her.” He laughed hoarsely in her ear. “Your father would probably pay more ransom for her than he would you anyway.” He swayed slightly then, his eyes going out of focus for a few seconds. Maybe that frying pan to his head had done more damage than he first thought. “Besides, I owe her for hitting me, don’t I?”

  “Leyton, you need to surrender,” Julianna said. “Do it before you make this into a murder scene.”

  “No, I don’t need to surrender, love. You need to surrender to knowing that I’ll win.” With that, he shoved her across the threshold and onto the porch. He considered Audrey, who was standing nearby where she trembled in fear and from the cold. Maybe he should just shoot Julianna now and get her out of the way, then abduct Mrs. Audrey Sheffield in case she would net more in ransom.

  But no, he wanted to talk to Julianna about how disappointing she had been as a wife, so undependable, so unreliable, so unavailable, so un-everything and so much like his mother! Just as she had not done what a mother should do, neither had Julianna done what a wife should do. Instead, she had taken their lives on a completely different path than he expected. And now, they were going to talk about that. He jammed the gun harder into her back and ordered her down the steps and onto the walkway.

  Leyton felt suddenly woozy, and the flat ground seemed to turn hilly. He stopped to collect himself, still holding Julianna tightly against him, but relaxing his hold on the gun. It seemed heavy, and he feared he was losing his grip. Removing it from Julianna’s back, he studied his hold and wondered why he couldn’t keep the gun steady.

  In the moment he took his focus off her, Julianna stomped on Leyton’s instep. It was the foot he had injured when he kicked the vanity table. His bones crunched and he cursed. He couldn’t keep his hold on her. She broke free and ran down the walkway, the darkness hiding her more and more as she got farther away.

  Leyton’s vision wavered as he pointed the gun at what he could still make out of her form. He couldn’t let her get away, she was his last chance. He teetered like a man standing on a swaying boat, but managed to pull the trigger and send a bullet in pursuit of his moving target.

  Two men were coming up the walkway, heading toward the house, when they heard the gunfire and saw a terrified Julianna running at them. One of the men carried a long slender box of roses, but tossed them aside and bolted ahead of the other man, then pounced on Julianna like a defensive tackle in a football game. She cried out as he slammed against her and pushed her to the ground, his own body following behind and covering her like a shield.

  The man remembered another encounter he had once had with this woman, not quite two summers ago when he had nearly run her over with his car. And then there had been the rainy night several weeks later when he had intervened on a thug-infested street near a shelter . . .

  Smiling down at her now, tenderly and with a sense of relief that he could not begin to describe, he pushed a lock of hair away from her eyes.

  “Julianna . . . we hook up in the most unusual ways.”

  She laughed the laugh of giddy relief, amazed wonder and complete happiness rolled into one delightful package. Her fingertips tousled his breeze-blown hair and gently played upon the broad, strong shoulders, but mostly they touched his face, his perfect face, and caressed it as though exploring a rare and treasured gem.

  “Jace.”

  As soon as Leyton’s gun fired, another shot followed, this one from the revolver of a policeman who had been guarding the back of the house. He had grown suspicious when the other officers didn’t answer their walkie-talkie calls, so he slipped around to the front and took cover behind hedges lining the walk.

  The bullet caught Leyton squarely in the chest. He collapsed to his knees, his gun still in his hands.

  “Throw your gun aside!” The command came from an officer on the front porch, now armed, thanks to Julianna’s mother, who had run inside to get help the moment Leyton took his eyes off her.

  Leyton aimed for the officer and tried to level his revolver. It was the only threat the officer needed to react in self-defense. A bullet blazed from his gun, burning through Leyton’s skin and into his right lung, sending him sprawling back onto the sidewalk. Maroon blood poured from his wound, spilling across the walk like water tapped from a spring. His gun fell from his hand and onto the walk, where a pool of blood quickly spread around it.

  Cassie was the first person to reach him. She had been watching—praying—from just inside the door, her wadded-up apron pressed against her bleeding head. She had seen Julianna spared the bullet, and assured that the girl was safe, Cassie now knelt beside the dying devil. Lord kne
w, he had never been a friend, but she had her Christian compassion and the duties charged to every believer.

  “Let your soul be saved,” she said urgently. “Like the thief on the cross, while there’s still breath in your body.”

  Even with death closing in, the man couldn’t manage to show her any kindness. His eyes were weak, but still as cold as ever toward her. He mustered what strength was left in him, lifted his head, and spat in Cassie’s face, striking her cheek with a mixture of salvia and blood.

  In the two seconds it took Cassie to recover, Leyton’s eyes grew fixed and his body gave one final gasp.

  The soul is gone, Cassie thought as she turned her face to heaven. Have mercy.

  But even as she said it, she knew it was too late to pray for the man. She had seen people die before. In the hospital and at home, their faces reflecting the sweetness of peace.

  But not this face. This face was wretched, as though the soul had glimpsed the horrors of hell before it departed the body.

  “Ju-LEE-anna!”

  Julianna heard her mother scream her name and looked up from the ground to see her rushing down the porch steps, pale-green robe billowing behind her. “Are you hurt, darling? Oh please, don’t be hurt!”

  Jace was helping Julianna to her feet when her mother reached them. Julianna hugged her mother’s neck tightly and whispered, “It’s over, Mother. It’s finally over.”

  Her mother returned the hug, holding Julianna close for several minutes before asking, “Who is this man behind you?” Before Julianna could answer, her mother began speaking over Julianna’s shoulder. “Forgive me, I don’t know you, but I know you just risked your life to save my daughter.”

  “I can’t imagine the world without her,” Jace said.

  “Neither can I.” Julianna’s mother released her and appeared to study Jace carefully. “Have I seen you before?”

  Before Jace could speak, Cassie joined them and gathered Julianna into a protective embrace. “Your suffering is finished, child. He can’t hurt you anymore, no sir, never again.”

 

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