Echoes of the Heart

by Webb, Carole

  His eyes slanted and brows drew together. “This is nonsense. You’re acting like a spoiled child, Raeden. We are getting your things and leaving together. That’s final.” He stood and left the room to finished dressing.

  She sat quiet for a moment while her blood boiled then jumped up to face him red-faced ready to pounce. “I suppose you think I will just drop all my plans so you can use me as a chattel.” She felt perspiration bead on her forehead.

  He stood firm while his jaw tensed. “You forced me into this agreement. You will not force me to be a wife to drag around and use when you have the notion. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  His face remained free from emotion as he grabbed his coat. “You know, Rae, you can be a real bitch! I must have been crazy to think we could be together. I’ll see you again when hell freezes over.” He reached for her and pulled back her head to kiss her mouth in a brutal attack then pushed her away while she groped for control. She knew she could be a shrew. He didn’t have to tell her.

  He aimlessly tossed a ring box in her direction then turned on his heel to storm out of the room, slamming the door so hard it vibrated the walls. Rigid footsteps echoed from the hallway while her eyes blinked back tears. Refusing to cry, she stomped about the room tossing her belongings into trunks.

  Raeden thought this might happen, another fight when he did not get his way.

  He won’t get another chance to coerce me into something I can’t do. Her eyes kept glancing at the small box on the floor and her inquisitiveness intensified. What could it be, another ring? She wanted to leave it but curiosity drove her to look inside and see what it held.

  An enormous Marquise diamond sparkled up at her encircled by blood red rubies set in 18k platinum. Exquisite. Five stones, smaller in size, adorned the wedding band. She turned the rings watching the facets reflect the light from the window, nearly mesmerized by the effect. He certainly has good taste. This must have cost a small fortune. She could not leave it behind. I will take this as a memento. I deserve it after putting up with such a pompous peacock! He just stood there and called me a bitch, for Christ sake!

  She tossed the small box inside her suitcase and clasped the lid, ready to leave. After the bellhop brought down her luggage, she had the concierge hail a cab. She had to leave town. She didn’t trust him. Hadn’t he told her he always sticks to commitments? As her husband, he could force her but he would never crush her resolve.

  Arriving at her home, she jumped from the hansom. “I need your assistance inside. There’s a big tip if you hurry.” Pulling her skirts to her knees, she charged into the house, dress billowing to the sides, a relief to find the house empty.

  Her room looked ransacked after she finished throwing everything into trunks. After calling the driver to load her belongings, she went to retrieve Arte and her gear from the stable and tied him alongside.

  Out of breath with beads of sweat on her forehead, the driver stared as if he thought she had escaped from an asylum. It didn’t matter as long as she vanished from his clutches. No one would stop her.

  With Arte secured in a holding pen at the train station, she exchanged her ticket for one the following morning and arranged to have her trunks held in storage, taking along only what she needed for one night and the trip.

  They drove to Maxwell’s Boarding House where she rented a room for one night including meals. The driver left smiling with a handsome tip.

  She plopped on her bed and dropped to the pillow then released her breath. Let him find her now, his little meek wife!

  Raeden fumed for a while imagining ways to get even for this ruse. Then she began taking in her surroundings and glanced around the small quaint room, sparsely furnished with only a small bureau, wooden chair topped by a thin cushion under a narrow writing table and a lamp stand next to her adequate bed.

  Adorned by only one picture on the wall overlooking the street, a sparkling clean window curtained in eyelet muslin matching her bedspread added to the room’s simple charm.

  Since leaving Cash’s hotel room in such a hurry, she decided to bathe in the shared bathroom at the end of the long hallway to the right of her room.

  She leaned back in the tub luxuriating in the hot water ebbing all the morning’s tension.

  A rumbling in her middle reminded her she had skipped breakfast and lunch. After slipping into a fawn-colored walking dress, she made her way to the café several blocks from the boarding house and had a pastry with coffee then visited a nearby bookstore to purchase copies of her favorite magazines and the new novel Alice in Wonderland for the journey to New York.

  Later in the evening, after dining with the guests, she retired to her room and sat curled in a quilt clad in her nightgown, leafing through a magazine unable to concentrate. She switched off the light and lay down with her thoughts. Suddenly tired from the lack of sleep she had been receiving Raeden hugged a pillow to her chest. A wave of loneliness washed over her before she fell into a deep sleep.

  Forty-seven

  Half-crazed, Cash stormed from the hotel room in the morning, animosity growing with each step, asking himself how she could turn on him with such vehemence after the closeness they had shared the past few days. Did she mean all those things she said? Her stubborn nature remained a sore spot. Perhaps he could coerce her into submission. Though he knew she might bend to his will if he forced her, he could never break her completely.

  He walked for nearly an hour cooling his temper then entered a pub and had a double scotch for breakfast while his mind raced. He needed Raeden, craved her, loved her, an obsession like no other woman he had had in the past. Her desire for him he could arouse from her so easily drove him mad with passion to have her. He knew he must attempt a different tactic to convince her. What?

  Leaving the bar, he retrieved Rabbit to take a long ride into the snow-covered fields. Riding should clear his head. It seemed Raeden wanted him on her own terms. It’s impossible. No woman would ever turn him into a lovesick coward.

  He gave the cowpony her head to race kicking up snow through the open fields surrounding the city, the cold wind in his face cooling his temper. No woman had ever been able to make him this angry. Why the hell didn’t he just leave her alone in the first place? Because he could not, that’s why.

  The hotel room empty of Raeden’s belongings did not surprise him when he returned. Best let her cool off and himself as well. The way he felt now, he might strangle her with his bare hands. He would see her tomorrow at her parents’ home. She must realize her ambitions were nothing compared to the fate of an entire race of people facing extermination.

  After a meal in the hotel dining room, he laid awake in bed with a derelict notion when the essence of Raeden’s perfume wafted from the bed linens where she had slept—loneliness.

  ***

  Raeden felt the burn of bruised lips from the brutal kiss she had received before escaping from that savage as she breakfasted at the boarding house, waiting the six a.m. train.

  Burdened by only a small bag of essentials, including her pistol, she boarded to her stateroom in a dust blue traveling suit, exhilarated at being on her way at last to New York City and the life she had dreamed of for years, feeling smug in her defiance of Cash. She wondered if he knew of her disappearance, confident he would not follow since he had a commitment in Washington.

  Still fearful of strange men, she planned to take meals in her room and wore the rings Cash had discarded to ward off the possible advances of any admirers. She twisted the rings in the sunlight reflecting through the window and watched the colored flashes circling the small room while an ache echoed in her heart, worse than the first time she had left him. Sudden unexpected tears pooled in her eyes.

  [MSOffice1]

  ***

  Cash sat up in bed with a start, sensing something wrong then scrambled into his clothing and rode directly to Raeden’s house. Cynthia answered his knock and invited him inside. He stepped into the foyer glancing around for a glimpse of Ra
eden, his temper rising as each minute passed.

  He tried to keep his voice calm, but he felt mad as hell. “Is Rae here? I need to speak with her.”

  Cynthia appeared disconcerted. “No, she’s not. I just noticed her belongings gone and just assumed … Cash, is something wrong?”

  The muscles in his neck tightened spreading to his jaw. What is she up to now? “She’s not with me. Do you have any idea where she might be?” When I get my hands on her, I’ll strangle her pretty little throat! Heat rose up his neck and he had the sudden urge to put his fist through a wall.

  Cynthia paused for a moment looking bewildered then her face perked. “She did mention New York. She had planned to leave just before New Year’s Day. Maybe she went to another hotel to wait.”

  Cash clenched his fists and flung a look so intense and hostile Cynthia jumped back, blue eyes agape. He unclenched his fists sorry he had frightened her and attempted to keep his voice calm but his temples pulsed and his face felt hot.

  “Let us know when you find her. I’m worried. She has always had a way of stirring up trouble.”

  Rage ignited almost out of control. “You had better hope I do not find her.” He walked to the stable and found no sign of her mount then turned and swore under his breath, swinging into the saddle. “Shit.”

  He rode to the train station checking for the bay but saw no sign of Arte. Then he entered the station to check the schedule with the ticket master to learn indeed a train left the same morning with connections to New York City and said he had seen a young woman matching the description Cash gave him boarding the train.

  Cash slammed his fist on the counter and his eyes glared in rage while he snapped at the man. “How could you let a young lady ride all the way to New York without a chaperone?”

  The agent cringed and stepped out of his reach, his eyes wide with fear. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s not our business. Perhaps you would care to purchase a ticket and go after her?”

  “I already have a ticket.”

  He spun on his heels then rode to the nearest sleazy pub and sat at the bar with two other men drinking early in the morning.

  Not much later, his nerves unwound only slightly as he looked at a half-empty bottle of scotch whiskey on the bar before him and poured another tall glass.

  Somehow, he managed to find his hotel room and cursed Raeden as he fell, fully clothed, in a stupor onto the bed.

  A head pounding like a base drum and a mouth full of fur greeted Cash when he woke that afternoon. The light coming in the window made him squint with pain. He drank several glasses of water and collapsed back on the bed. He thought of how a bludgeoned pugilist must feel as he rose slowly to shed his wrinkled clothing to take a hot steamy bath.

  Thinking of the morning, he wondered how much he actually knocked back. He had never come close to this kind of hangover and he still felt drunk. He threw on some clothes and didn’t dare shave then exited the room and after forcing down a meal chased by a pot of coffee in the hotel dining room, he thought he might live.

  Anger and resentment flared as he thought of Raeden. He would be damned before he would chase her all the way to New York. Especially when she made it quite clear she did not want to be with him.

  Best to put the past behind him and forget about Raeden, he had more significant things to consider than a reckless affair.

  Forty-eight

  Amid the commotion at Central Station, Raeden arrived in New York City, resolve unwavering in the face of great odds against her venture. Black acrid smoke from burning coal stung her eyes as she stared in the distance at the erection of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, a renaissance masterpiece reaching for the cloud-covered sky. She had read construction resumed since the Civil War ended, such a remarkable sight. Fresh snow layered atop the soot stained mounds along the street and sidewalks softening the black blanket beneath.

  Checking into The Inn at Irving Place, she stood at the damask draped window looking over rooftops and a twinge of fear shrouded her excitement before she turned to unpack.

  A thick-cushioned settee and chair adorned the lush carpeted suite with mirrored end tables holding electric leaded-glass lamps. The anteroom held a narrow padded bench seat at the foot of a large bed sided by polished oak end tables. A clock sat atop a chest of drawers on the right along with a vanity.

  To the left a claw-footed porcelain tub sat in the middle of the bathing room atop a gleaming Spanish tiled floor with a pull-chain convenience in the corner and a gilt framed beveled mirror hung over a pedestal sink.

  Raeden pulled dense Egyptian cotton towels from the cabinet and ran a bath, eager to remove the road grime and shampoo her hair before taking a short nap.

  In the early afternoon, she spoke with the concierge to acquire names of realty agents and solicitors in the vicinity and called for appointments before boarding the metro to the Financial District, passing the temporary tent-like structures on Wall Street serving customers transacting stock market trades.

  She chose the Mellon Bank to handle her accounts and deposited the bank drafts from St. Louis grateful for the generous endowment from her grandparents’ estate.

  On meeting with the realty agent, she discussed her requirements over a map of the city. She desired a small warehouse in the Fashion District and apartments with access to public transportation. He pointed out areas she should avoid, such as Five Corners with its high crime rate and violence, riddled with gangs and itinerants she should avoid.

  Exhausted and hungry, she returned to the inn, had a light supper then fell into bed, excitement from the busy day clouded by memories of the man she loved. Her body ached to be near him and feel his protective arms around her dissolving the fears and chasing away the nightmares still plaguing her sleep. Eventually her body succumbed to fatigue and she sank deeper into her tearstained pillow and fell asleep.

  ***

  The solicitor she met with the following day listened intently to her story about the forced nuptials, the consummation topic avoided, and another lie of omission. He explained Cash would need to sign the papers as well to avoid a court battle and a trip back to South Dakota. The documents would be ready the following week. Surely, he would agree. What senator would want the scandal of an estranged wife living alone in New York City? His reputation might be ruined. Not that he had lived the life of a monk.

  A little voice in her head told her she might regret her decision but in actuality, she must do it. She did not desire any remnants of her past to destroy her future and she hoped time would dim the memories leaving her free to pursue her quest.

  With no word from her agent, she changed into a brown and tan riding habit and traveled to the stable near Central Park where she boarded Arte, to enjoy a nice long ride. The many snow-covered trees along the paths lying dormant promised a full spring display.

  She tried to imagine Central Park in the next season with leafy branches shading the lanes winding through the park and the aroma of cherry blossoms hanging in the air.

  Refreshed by the ride, she returned to find a message from her agent waiting, asking her to meet him the following morning to view a property meeting her criteria and an apartment near the Village he believed she would find to her liking.

  ***

  The sun rose to a new day and Raeden made a tour of Fifth Avenue, checking all the retailers vending clothing, made mental notes of pricing and noticed not much offered compared to her stylish gowns.

  She rode the ferry to view the harbor and the New York skyline reflecting over the water then rode in the park keeping her mind busy to avoid the ache settling in an empty space, yearning for fulfillment, between her heart and stomach. This will pass in time, it has to. Nothing lasts forever.

  She met her agent to inspect the property and found the warehouse nearly perfect. Ample lighting covered the floor space with massive steel-lined windows along the front to allow plenty of sunlight and it had commercial overhead fans to circulate air. The back wall, not in direct sunlight
, would be perfect for shelving the bolts of fabric and a small room to the left in the corner could hold an office. Work tables, a drafting area and garment racks would fit easily onto the mammoth open-air floor.

  Since the landlord was hesitant to sign a lease with a woman, she had to pay six months in advance. The agent gave her the name of an honest contractor she could hire to complete her required needs. She slowly strolled around the warehouse, her head buzzing with ideas.

  Offered a ride by her agent, Raeden swiftly declined. In spite of the gun she carried in her bag, all the terrors resurfaced making it hard to breath. Therefore, she followed him in her own taxi to the Chelsea Hotel near the Village where he had located the perfect apartment on the second floor, spacious, freshly painted and papered with a simple design that would blend with any décor.

  Floor vents located in the corner supplied heat to the adequate living room.

  Off to the left was a kitchen big enough for a small dining table in the nook opening to a terrace overlooking the gardens in the rear. Morning sun would shine through windows in the bedroom off to the right.

  Raeden surveyed the mid-sized apartment visualizing dimensions and arrangements of furniture to place around the room.

  Another lease signed and paid, she drove to Lord’s Department Store and strolled leisurely among the aisles purchasing articles of furniture to make the apartment her own—an Italian Mosaic bistro table with two cast iron café chairs perfect for the nook off the kitchen and a blue and yellow brocade sofa with overstuffed cushions and matching wingback chair to set upon an Oriental carpet over the oak floors in the living room.

  For the last room, she chose a four-poster bed, big enough to spread out magazines and designs to work on if she chose or to pass the time if she could not sleep during the night. Then she purchased essentials to set up housekeeping, all due for delivery the following day. It’s a good start.