The Bride Star

by Piper Davenport

  “Please organize a bath for Mrs. Powell.”

  “Yessuh,” she said and went off to take care of the request.

  Sam led Rayne to their bedroom and pulled her into his arms. “You’re freezing.” He peeled off her cloak and scowled. “This is entirely inadequate clothing to wear during the winter, Rayne.”

  “I didn’t think it would be this cold!”

  Sam frowned. “That is apparently the issue, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t think,” he said, a little more condescendingly than he meant to.

  Before she could respond, the house staff knocked on the door and dragged in a large tub, along with buckets of steaming water. Once the tub was filled, the staff left discreetly, and Sam started to pull Rayne’s clothing from her body.

  “I can do it.” She slapped his hands away.

  Sam was beyond angry with her. She had disregarded her safety and he was at a loss as to how to approach her. He knew she wouldn’t react well to his words in his current state, but he also knew it would take more than a few minutes to shake off his anxiety and speak to her calmly.

  He heard her growl and turned to see she was having a difficult time with her corset. He made his way to her, unlaced the undergarment and helped her remove it. She muttered her thanks and then removed the rest of her things and climbed into the tub. Sam turned, walked out of the room, and slammed the door.

  RAYNE SCOWLED. SHE hated Sam’s angry tone, but complete silence was something she just couldn’t take. She didn’t even know why he was so mad. She was once again in a place of confusion and sadness. Now she wanted to go home again. At least there she knew what to expect. Being in love kind of sucked and she wanted her old life back.

  Sam didn’t return for an hour. By then, Rayne was almost hysterical. The staff had removed the tub and she was wrapped in her robe, pacing the room. She turned when she heard the door open. Sam stepped inside and Rayne crossed her arms to await his barrage of instructions.

  Instead he pulled her into his embrace. “I’m sorry, Angel,” he whispered and kissed the crown of her head.

  Rayne sniffed back tears. “I don’t understand why you’re so mad! And the silent treatment! What the hell was up with that?” She dropped her head onto his chest.

  “I’m sorry. I was reacting out of fear and I didn’t know how to verbalize it.”

  “Fear of what, damn it?”

  Sam pulled her to a chair and onto his lap. “I don’t want any harm to come to you, sweetheart, so when I couldn’t find you this morning and then you dressed so inadequately, it scared me.”

  “But it’s my body, Sam.” Rayne patted her chest with her palm. “I’m not typically cold and I think I can wear whatever I want to.”

  “It’s not just your body, Angel. It’s also mine. It’s something I love beyond reason and should any harm come to it, I’m not certain I would survive it.”

  “Melodramatic a bit, don’t you think?”

  Sam let out a deep sigh. “I love you, Rayne. I want you safe. If you think I’m being melodramatic, then so be it.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” She climbed off his lap. “I’m not used to this.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know how to do this!” Rayne slipped her hands into the pockets of her robe. “I think you’re going to be disappointed with me a lot.”

  Sam stood and cupped her face. “I love you, Angel. Nothing will ever change that. I’m fairly certain we’ll disappoint each other at different times in our lives, but we’ll work it out.”

  “What if we don’t?”

  “We will.”

  “We better,” she grumbled. “I don’t like fighting with you, and if we can’t figure out our differences, maybe I should just go home.”

  Sam stepped away from her and stared at her for several seconds. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  Rayne shrugged. “I will if you push me.”

  Sam crossed his arms. “I am not one of your worshipers you can threaten, Rayne. I’m your husband. These tactics won’t work on me.”

  Rayne sighed. “I’m not threatening you. I’m simply expressing my need for peace. I cannot handle fighting with you. I don’t like conflict.”

  Sam chuckled. “Who does? It is a necessary part of life, however.”

  “Well, I don’t want it between us.”

  Sam sighed. “Then let’s not fight. I have other, much more pleasant things I’d like to do.”

  * * *

  Rayne woke on Sunday morning, earlier than Sam. They’d come to a tentative resolution the night before, but she still felt out of her element. They’d had another small argument… and it was one she’d started, angry at Sam’s explanation that because she was a white woman, she could not be alone with a black man or touch him, even if it was just to shake his hand in greeting.

  They were on the noon train back to D.C. and decided to go for a ride after breakfast before they were scheduled to be at the station. Sam inspected everything she planned to wear and she was slightly irked that he made her feel like a child.

  “Maybe we should have a codeword,” Rayne snapped.

  “What does that mean?” Sam asked.

  “If you need to rescue me… um… bathe me… or perhaps change my diaper, I’ll yell ‘aardvark.’”

  Sam sighed. “Rayne.”

  She’d huffed and stomped down to the dining room. Sam insisted she eat before their ride, so she did what she was told and attempted not to scowl at him throughout the whole day… just part of it.

  Their trip back to D.C. was uneventful, and they made it to Quincy’s townhouse just in time for dinner. Victoria hugged her and pulled her into the parlor, where Emma was sitting with Hannah. Sam made his way back to Quincy’s office.

  “How was the trip?” Victoria asked.

  “It was fine.”

  Hannah frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Rayne shook her head. “Nothing. I think I’m just tired.”

  “Don’t you feel well?” Victoria asked.

  Rayne forced a smile. “I feel great. Ignore me. I’m just tired.”

  The conversation moved onto babies, Thanksgiving, and new gowns. Rayne felt entirely disjointed throughout the next hour. She felt out of place, that she didn’t belong here, and needed to figure out how to get home.

  * * *

  Sam knew Rayne was distracted, but chalked it up to their fight the day before. She didn’t eat much during dinner, and if she responded to a question, it was short. He did his best to shower her with attention, but he was growing more and more concerned as the evening wore on.

  “Rayne, what’s wrong?” he asked in frustration.

  “Nothing, Sam. I’m fine,” she said.

  When the group moved to the parlor, Sam pulled her into Quincy’s office and closed the door. “You’re not fine, Rayne. Tell me what’s amiss. Are you cold?”

  Rayne snorted. “With the fourteen layers of clothing you forced me to wear? Not likely.”

  Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Rayne.”

  “What? It’s true. I’m sweating I’m so hot.”

  “Well then, what’s wrong?”

  Rayne sighed. “Nothing. Really. I’m just tired.”

  “You’ll be able to rest tomorrow, if you like.”

  “I thought I might go for a run,” she said.

  He shook his head. “You’ll do no such thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m unable to go with you and you need to be safe.”

  “I’ll take Victoria.”

  Sam grabbed her shoulders and his eyes bore into her. “No.”

  Rayne glared at him. “Is that your final answer?” she hissed.

  “Don’t press me on this, Rayne.”

  “Fine,” she huffed.

  When it was time to turn in, Sam pulled her into his arms and apologized again for their fight. He woke early in the morning and went off to deal with the issues still p
revalent at the prison. He dove right in, with Crow at his side, and put his wife’s strange behavior out of his mind.

  * * *

  Rayne woke shortly after Sam left and found Victoria in the dining room. Rayne sat at the table and poured herself a cup of coffee. “What are your plans today?”

  “Emma and I are going for a ride. Would you like to join us?”

  “No thanks.” Rayne sipped her coffee. “I’m going to hang out and relax today if that’s okay.”

  “No problem.” Victoria grinned. “I saw your new horse. She’s a total sweetie. Rocky’s already in love with her.”

  “Yes, she is very sweet,” Rayne said distractedly. “She was a wedding gift from Crow, apparently.”

  “What are you going to name her?” Victoria took a bite of toast.

  “I don’t know yet, to be honest,” Rayne said.

  “It’ll come to you.”

  Emma arrived a few minutes later and the girls left for their ride. Rayne knew she had limited time to do what she needed to do and ran to gather a few things before making her way to the carriage house. She said good-bye to her horse and then walked to where she could hire a buggy to take her to the train station.

  She got the first train to Harrisburg and cried the whole way. Her heartache increased the farther she got from Sam, but she truly felt as though she had no choice. He was better off without her. Eventually, he’d realize she was wrong for him and he’d hate her. She knew she couldn’t watch that happen. If she went home, she would continue with her life, miserable without her love, but knowing he would be better for it.

  When the train pulled into Harrisburg, she made her way to the livery, just like Amelia had done when they’d come not so long ago, hired another buggy and driver, and set off for the Fords.

  * * *

  Emma and Victoria returned to the townhouse a little later than they expected. They were laughing as they walked inside, having just experienced the best ride they’d had in weeks and pumped up on the endorphins running through their veins.

  “Rayne!” Victoria called.

  No answer.

  “Maybe she went for a ride after all,” Emma suggested.

  “Her horse is still here, Em.”

  Emma frowned. “True. Maybe she’s sleeping.”

  The girls went upstairs and knocked on Rayne’s door. Once again there was no answer. Victoria opened the door and saw a note addressed to Sam with Rayne’s rings sitting next to it.

  “Uh-oh,” Emma said. “This doesn’t look good.”

  “Crap.” Victoria grabbed the note and went back downstairs. “What should we do?”

  “We need to take the note to Sam,” Emma said. “Quickly.”

  “I wonder where she went.”

  “Do you think…?” Emma mumbled. “No, she wouldn’t.”

  “What?” Victoria asked.

  “Do you think she’s trying to go home?”

  Victoria pulled the front door open. “Let’s go. The horses are still saddled.”

  The girls mounted and took off for the prison. They were informed that Sam was at the war office, so they took off once again. They arrived at the office and didn’t bother to secure the horses. They jumped down and ran through the doors and straight to Clayton’s office. He stood as Emma rushed toward him. “Emma? What’s amiss, sweet?”

  “Where’s Sam?”

  “In Quinn’s office,” he said.

  The girls turned and rushed down the hall. Victoria pushed the door open without knocking. Quincy stood and frowned. “Rebel?”

  Sam turned and then stood as well.

  “Sam!” Victoria said in exasperation. “We got home and Rayne wasn’t there. This was left for you and I don’t think it’s good… Rayne left her rings.”

  She handed him the note and then grabbed Emma’s hand. Sam opened the letter, read it, and the fear she saw on his face, mixed with anger, frightened Victoria.

  “What the hell is she doing?” he seethed.

  Victoria grimaced. “We think she might be trying to go home.”

  * * *

  Sam didn’t say anything else. He left the office and made a run for his horse. He vaulted onto its back and headed for the train station.

  The next train for Harrisburg didn’t leave until two. The poor man behind the ticket counter received a tongue-lashing he was not prepared for. It didn’t matter, there wasn’t an earlier train, even if Sam had brought the appropriate paperwork, and he was left in the same position he was in when he arrived. A full six hours behind Rayne.

  He thought about riding, but the two o’clock train would arrive four hours before he could on the back of a horse, so he had no choice but to wait it out. He mounted his horse again and rode back to the prison. He informed them he would be gone for a few days and found out that Stephen was done with his examination of Rose Johnson and would be on the two o’clock train as well.

  “We’ll discuss your findings then. I have a few things I need to take care of before the trip,” Sam said.

  Sam rushed back to Quincy’s house to pack a few things and found him home, along with Victoria. “What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

  “We’re coming with you,” Quincy informed him.

  “Why?”

  “Because you both may need support,” Victoria said.

  Sam swore.

  Victoria sighed. “Sophie won’t let her do anything rash. Of that, I’m certain.”

  Sam wasn’t convinced.

  “Crow has already agreed to take care of everything at the prison,” Quincy added.

  “Thank you.” Sam ran his hands through his hair. “I couldn’t locate him, but that was my next task.”

  “We ran into him on our way here, actually. We filled him in on everything,” Victoria said.

  Sam nodded but didn’t comment as he packed a bag. The group made off for the station. They arrived and found Stephen and Christine on the platform. Stephen had procured a private car and invited them to join them, which Sam was grateful for.

  Before they got settled in the parlor car, Sam pulled Stephen aside to discuss his examination of Rose Johnson. “What did you find?”

  “No tearing and no evidence of rape,” Stephen said.

  “How is that possible?”

  Stephen shrugged. “I believe it happened the way Hannah thinks it did. The bruises on her thighs are tentative. As if the man was unsure of what he was doing. Rape is a form of power and most of the time done in rage. I hate to say it, but her bruising just isn’t bad enough to be rape.”

  “What about the cuts and bruises on her face?”

  “Self inflicted. There isn’t one fist or palm print on her. She is also not a virgin.”

  Sam let out a frustrated sigh. “Thank you for your assistance.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, try and relax, Sam. Rayne will be there when you arrive. Sophie has a unique ability to make people see reason. Christine is proof positive of that.” Stephen clapped him on the shoulder.

  Sam nodded. He chose to sit away from the group, his emotions in turmoil. He didn’t know what he would do if she were able to go back. He would follow her. That’s all there was to it. He would find a way. He was unconvinced it wouldn’t be a possibility. He was efficient at torture and would simply demonstrate his abilities to the facilitator of the portal if need be.

  * * *

  Rayne arrived at the Fords to find a surprised Sophie in the parlor. “Rayne? What are you doing here?”

  “I want to go home.”

  “What happened?” Sophie stood and gave her a hug.

  “I need to go home,” Rayne said. “Find Madame. Now.”

  Sophie grasped her arms. “Where’s Sam?”

  “He’s at the prison.”

  “Rayne!” Sophie admonished. “What have you done?”

  Rayne’s eyes filled with tears. “I want to go home, Sophie.”

  “Did you travel here alone?”

  “Totally irrelevant! Tell me how th
e hell to get home!”

  Sophie sighed. “There are consequences, Rayne. Ones I don’t think you fully comprehend.”

  Rayne pushed her away. “I WANT TO GO HOME. AND I WANT TO GO HOME NOW!”

  Jamie rushed into the room. “What’s going on?” The concern for his wife was written all over his face. “Rayne? What are you doing here?”

  Rayne became more and more hysterical and started to hyperventilate. “I need to go home. I can’t live here.”

  Sophie helped Rayne to the sofa. “Sweetie, take a deep breath. That’s it. Again.”

  Rayne sobbed. “I need to go home, Sophie. Tell me how to go home.”

  “What brought all this on?” Sophie turned to Jamie. “Jamie, can you get us some tea, please?” He left to organize refreshments as Sophie handed Rayne a handkerchief. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Nothing happened! I want to go home.”

  “Feed me another line of BS, Rayne, and I’m going to open a can on you,” Sophie warned.

  Rayne blew her nose. “I can’t stay here. I’m no good for Sam. We fight all the time… about really stupid things… and I’m done.”

  Sophie shook her head. “Rayne, every couple fights.”

  Rayne scowled. “Well, I’m not going to do it anymore.”

  Sophie leaned an elbow against the back of the sofa and settled her head in her hand. “And why are you so special?”

  Rayne crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

  Sophie pursed her lips. “Tell me, why the sudden need to run away?”

  “He’s being a jerk.”

  “Oh, really? How exactly is he being a jerk?”

  Rayne bit her lip. “He’s a racist.”

  “No, he’s not,” Sophie argued.

  “Yes. He. Is. I wanted to shake one of the worker’s hands and he essentially ripped my arm from my body to stop me.”

  “Ripped your arm from your body? Really?”

  Rayne nodded. “Yes. He told me that I was never to be alone with any of the workers, using that horrible N word!”

  Sophie gasped. “He called him a—?”

  “No,” Rayne rushed to clarify. “The other one.”

  “Oh, Rayne.” Sophie sighed. “I think I need to explain a few things to you.”

  “Nothing can explain this away!”