The Woman on the Painted Horse

by Angela Christina Archer

  “Stop,” I shouted, rushing toward the two men and wedging myself between them. “I’ll do whatever it takes so you won’t suffer for my actions. William and I risked your safety. We took a gamble and lost, and I’m sorry, but I will resolve the situation, I swear it.”

  “You should’ve only gambled your life, and not ours,” Charlie said through gritted teeth.

  “I know we should’ve, Charlie.” I stepped closer to him, hoping the sincerity in my face would assure him of my promise. “And, I’ll do anything in my power to make certain the clan remains unharmed. I did this. I caused this problem, and I’ll bring resolution.”

  “No, I will.” Before I could blink, Charlie lunged for me, grabbed my hair and I fell to my knees with a knife to my throat. “Move, and she dies,” he shouted at William.

  “Let her go, Charlie,” William demanded, his fists clenched tight. He stepped toward us, but stopped as Charlie pressed the knife into my neck. The sharp blade cut into my skin and drew blood. My horrified screams echoed through the trees as the blood dripped down my neck.

  “She’s no good to you if she’s dead. You think you face wrath now, it will be a thousand times worse if you kill her.”

  “Yes, but you make the mistake of thinking her murder would be traced back to me.”

  “Let her go.”

  “No. She’ll return to Mr. Ludlow and sacrifice herself for our leniency. You and your family are no longer welcome here in the village, the price for the damage you have done,” shouted Charlie.

  “Tie them up,” Andrew said.

  Charlie pressed my face into the ground. Dirt choked my lungs as I fought not to breathe in too much. With the knife still pressed against the skin on the back of my neck, I offered no resistance, but lay quietly.

  “You won’t get away with what you’ve done, Charlie,” William yelled.

  Mr. Graysden repeatedly shouted for William to stop struggling, but he didn’t listen, and his strength proved a weak effort against several members of the clan. Charlie tied my hands and feet together and left me lying in the dirt as he stepped around me.

  “Charlie, please untie them and let them go, please,” I begged. “I’ll go with Thomas, I’ll do anything you ask, just please, please, let them go.”

  “No talking,” he ordered as he kicked the back of my head.

  I strained my neck around, searching for William, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. The cut on my neck stung, and my shoulders ached from the small rocks beneath my body. The coarse ropes were tied too tight around my wrists and dug into my skin, scraping deeper with the tiniest movement. Moments later, horse hooves stepped near my head and Charlie dragged me behind him, my chest down, through the dirt. He jerked me to my feet and threw me into the back of Thomas’s carriage. The rough, splintery wood floor hurt more than the dirt and rocks, scraping my face, chest, and arms.

  The carriage rolled down the road. The sounds of the village grew faint, then finally, they disappeared altogether. Had this been my fate all along? Or perhaps, it was the karmic punishment for my sedition and the repercussion for my choice.

  If only I had just forgotten about William, and decided not to meet him at the gates that night, then so many would have been spared from turmoil. All in the name of love, right? That was my reason and the excuse, which I told myself repeatedly.

  Perhaps I had been the fiend all along, and not Thomas or my parents. I’d been wrecking many lives for my own selfish greed. Was I more like Mama and Daddy than I’d once thought? Certainly, they’ve done the same and worse. They took what they wanted, as they pleased, with no regard for anyone or any effect their desires would inflict upon others. I wanted William, and I stepped on the backs of numerous people to get him. I hadn’t cared what my actions would do to anyone else. I only thought of me, selfish, selfish me.

  The carriage stopped abruptly, throwing me forward into the back railing. Charlie grabbed my feet and hauled me from the wagon. He untied my legs, heaved me to my feet, and pushed me toward two horses standing in front of us.

  Thomas dismounted his horse and strode toward us. A few feet before he reached us, Charlie threw me down to the ground in front of Thomas and then stepped away.

  “She’s not welcome in our village. William and his family will be punished for their actions. The village had nothing to do with what William and Alexandra did, nor did we ever condone their behavior.”

  “Mr. Gilbert, good evening to you, too. Of course your family wasn’t involved. Your father has far too much intellect for such nonsense.” Thomas cocked his head to the side. His expression would shock the devil himself and make him pause. He mocked Charlie with his tone and condemned him with his eyes. His controlled temper scared me as much as his expression did. “Mr. Gilbert, where is young Mr. Graysden?”

  “He’s been dealt with.”

  “Bring him to me,” Thomas demanded.

  “No, Thomas, no,” I screamed, fighting the ropes that bound my hands and struggling to my feet. “Leave William alone.”

  Thomas knelt down as I continued to struggle, grabbed my neck, and squeezed my throat, cutting off my air. “I should make you watch me kill him,” he snapped and his spittle hit my cheek. “Make you witness the pain in his eyes before life leaves his body.”

  I fought until he released me and I dropped to the ground. Weak, I laid my head in the dirt. Clouds of dust puffed as I gasped for breath, choking me, and filling my mouth with sand.

  “You cry over a filthy dog,” Thomas said, kicking me in the back with his pointed boot. He stared at Charlie for a second, raised one eyebrow, and cocked his head again. “Mr. Gilbert, did you not hear me? Bring William Graysden to me. Now.”

  Charlie hesitated. “We won’t grant William to you, Mr. Ludlow.”

  “I would ask why, Mr. Gilbert, but I do not care. My demand for Mr. Graysden was not negotiable.”

  “No, Mr. Ludlow. He won’t be granted from our hands to anyone who means to kill him. I won’t send William to his death.”

  Thomas stood calmly for a second with his arms crossed. His silent composure was mind-numbingly maddening. “If that is your choice,” he finally said, shrugging his shoulders and glancing at Duncan. “Escort Alexandra to her father, please. I will be along shortly, after I have a brief chat with Mr. Gilbert.”

  Duncan yanked me to my feet and shoved me toward the carriage, nearly knocking me to the ground with every thrust. The more I fought, the harder he hit me.

  “Charlie, don’t trust him,” I shouted through Duncan’s punches.

  Thomas marched toward us, the spurs on his boots clinking with every thunderous step. “You need to learn when to be silent,” he shouted and slammed my body against the carriage. A cold, bone-chilling smile spread across his face as he tied a rope around my neck. The cut from the knife stung as the hemp fibers scratched my skin. “I really do not want to return a dead daughter to your father, but if you do not stop opening your mouth, I am afraid I will have no choice.”

  “Thomas, what are you doing?” Duncan asked.

  “They refuse to give me Mr. Graysden, but that does not mean I cannot just take him.”

  “I hope he kills you,” I spit through hindered breaths.

  “I don’t care about you, and I don’t care about him.” He paused with a slight laugh in his voice. “You see, Alexandra, life is nothing more than an endless stream of business deals.”

  “To you, perhaps, but not to everyone.”

  “You are just as narrow minded as your father. You know, Alexandra, you shouldn’t be so confused and ignorant. I need your father’s connections to get close to the President, and your father needs money. Years of bad business decisions and an extravagant, unruly, selfish, wife can bankrupt a man, you know.”

  “You are going to assassinate President Davis, aren’
t you,” I gasped, horrified. “You think he can’t win the war, and the only thing you know to do is what your uncle taught you. If you can’t go through the politicians, you kill them.”

  Wrapping his hand around my neck, again, he slowly began choking me, his spittle spattered again on my face as he spoke. “After I steal your father’s land from under his nose, I am going to kill you.”

  He punched me in the face, hard, and the world disappeared.

  Chapter 23

  Thomas paced in front of me while Daddy sat at his desk, finger-rolling a pencil across the wood. Duncan stood by the window, leaning up against the book table. Daddy’s eyes followed Thomas, never once looking at me as I stood in the middle of the room. Perhaps he believed he would burst into flames should his eyes fall upon his heathen daughter, I didn’t know, nor care. Why should I? Broken, scared, and just as angry, I couldn’t show it, much less act upon it.

  “Nathanial, if I marry her, I want a percentage of the business,” Thomas shouted.

  “No.”

  “Then I will expect payment on your loan in full by morning.”

  “And, you believe all should be handed to you at your beck and call? Don’t you forget, you need me. You can’t make those choices. You aren’t in charge of this plan, your father and I are. You believe I desired Elizabeth when we married?” Daddy’s voice lowered an octave. “Unfortunately, Thomas, we must sometimes forego love and happiness for the sake of money and power.”

  “Money does have a way of making you capable of overlooking everything,” Duncan laughed.

  “So can the young Negro girls owned by friends and given as gifts,” Thomas mocked. He chuckled with a gleam in his eye that shouldn’t be trusted. “Tell me, Nathanial. Did you ever see your son before I sent him and his mother to Mr. Cole? I am quite certain Elizabeth would care to know her husband bedded a slave girl, over and over, at my father’s manor. Since your marriage is so ghastly, perhaps you should tell your wife and save yourself the trouble of any more vile years with the wench.”

  A few months ago, I stole a young girl and her new born infant. Mr. Cole had planned to hang her for a reason she wouldn’t reveal, and now I knew why. Her reason sat in front of me. His pencil twirled between two of his fingers and he lacked any concern for her or remorse for his actions. The infant boy’s creamy light skin and brown hair had not been from a slave hand, or Mr. Cole, but from Daddy.

  I had held my own brother that night. Perhaps once in a distant time the thought of the little boy growing up without a Daddy, or knowing who he was, would have saddened me. But not now. Now, instead of sympathy, jealousy was the only emotion I could muster. The boy would never know the sick man I knew. How fortunate for him.

  “Did you have fun with my father’s gift, the little whore? Ordering her to do everything you desired, everything you imagined, and everything Elizabeth refuses her husband,” Thomas mocked, his smile faded, and then disappeared.

  “Perhaps, Elizabeth already expects an affair or would understand. No man should be forced to be with only one woman for the rest of his life,” Duncan interrupted.

  “You say such now, Duncan, but you better hope Grace’s child looks like her and not you,” Thomas rebutted. “Michael already suspects Grace’s infidelity, and if Mr. Buchanan hears word, your engagement to Mary will be over.”

  Daddy threw down the pencil and punched his desk. “Silence,” he shouted. “Both of you need to learn to keep your business in check. Thomas, your grandfather would roll over in his grave if he knew how loosely you keep yourself. Success requires intelligence, patience, and stealth. Success is not seducing another man’s wife and fathering a child when you are plotting with a wealthy and powerful man, and have an agreement for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Duncan waved off Daddy’s words. “I don’t know if the child is even mine. Grace has spread her legs for many men in this town. Besides, they weren’t married at the time.”

  Mary’s perfect world had the same perfect ending as the rest of the women, an unfaithful husband who married for business and not for love. How sad for her not to know, how sad to live life based on a lie, and how sad that she was blind to it. She believed Duncan truly loved her. Although, such was the world she clung too, just like Mama and every other woman in this town.

  “Tell me, Nathanial, was my slave girl the only one, or are there more Monroe bastards running around this town?” Thomas asked. “How do you think your reputation would hold up if the truth was known?”

  “Enough.” Daddy growled, leaping from his desk and grabbing the lapels of Thomas’s jacket. “Your threats no longer hold meaning to me, Thomas. Do not underestimate my power. Don’t think I won’t expose your plan to President Davis.”

  Thomas laughed. “You dare threaten me? No one will believe you.”

  “That is a bold statement coming from the nephew of Joseph Ludlow, a man exiled from this state for plotting the assassination of the Governor. It would not be too hard to convince others, considering your family’s reputation.”

  “You don’t have any proof.” Thomas pushed himself free from Daddy’s grip, jerking his frock coat straight. “No one will believe you are not involved, especially if you are my father-in-law.”

  Daddy fetched a stack of envelopes from his desk. “I have plenty of proof. I have every document that you, your father, Duncan, and Mr. Atzerodt have ever written, and fortunately for me, I am only mentioned in a few of the letters. Those can very easily fall into the fire, if needed.”

  I closed my eyes, praying for the curse of deafness or the ability to rip my ears off so I couldn’t hear the conversation around me. How does one live knowing the dark secrets of another? How does one forget the numbing shock or horrifying shake of emotions when one meets that person again? Forgetting is unthinkable, and tucking the memory away in the vastness of one’s mind is impossible. Every time one lay eyes on that person, they relive the memory. Like a snake, it will strike, biting them repeatedly. Anxiety will make their skin crawl, and all they will wish to do is forget that they know anything at all.

  Neither Daddy nor Thomas would ever be the same in my eyes. In truth, they’d been worse than I’d once believed, and they’d been vile. In just a matter of a few moments, any world I knew had ceased to exist. Every day of my life had been a lie.

  Daddy ignored Thomas and strode to my side, lifting my chin with his finger. “I trust I don’t have to threaten you because of what you have heard.” His eyes narrowed, studying the sincerity behind my nod of agreement before he let go of my face. “Thomas, you and Alexandra will marry in the spring. Elizabeth has always preferred spring weddings, and she will be delighted to plan one.”

  “No.” I regretted my protest, immediately.

  Daddy slapped my face with such force I fell to the ground. Weak and broken, I lay on the floor, the sadness and pain too overwhelming to move.

  Thomas grabbed my arm and wrenched me to my feet. “I suppose, for the sake of appearances. I could marry you.” His grip tightened and his nails dug into my skin as he leaned in to whisper. “Until you fall mysteriously ill and die.”

  “You mean, until you steal Daddy’s land, and then you kill me,” I snapped.

  Thomas’s eyes narrowed in anger. I knew I would pay for that remark.

  “What is she talking about, Thomas?” Daddy asked.

  “I have no idea, Nathanial.”

  Daddy stared at Thomas, but his features remained expressionless, the perfect mask for hiding his betrayal.

  “Deal with Alexandra as you wish. I am tired.” Daddy said. He grabbed his jacket and left the room, leaving me alone with Duncan and Thomas, the two wolves hungry for prey.

  “You might as well retire for the evening yourself,” Thomas said to Duncan, motioning him to leave as he sauntered over and poured himself a glass of whisk
ey. Seconds later, the front door slammed shut.

  Gulping the first shot, Thomas glowered out the window and poured another glass slightly fuller than the one before. Fear paralyzed me as he gulped a second, then a third, and then a fourth shot. How badly would Thomas rip my soul? How broken would he leave my body? I wished for the pleasure of the unknown, the divine ignorance of the attack looming in the darkness.

  “Alexandra, that was quite the damage you attempted,” he growled. Drinking his fifth and final shot, he slammed the glass onto the table and stalked toward me. “I thought you would have learned your place by now.”

  “Cowering to you is not my place.”

  “It will be, when you become my wife.”

  “Do you honestly believe I’ll marry you, Thomas?” I laughed. “I’d rather die than marry you and live with your coldness, forced every day to cower to you for peace, forced every day to witness your screaming, angry fits as I beg for your forgiveness. You will not be allowed such pleasure.”

  Thomas laughed, a quiet, malicious laugh. “And the disrespect continues.”

  “Where is William?” I demanded.

  “He is dead.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Thomas’s fingers wrapped around my jaw and forced me to look at him. “But, you really should,” he taunted.

  Instinct said he was lying, but his expression said otherwise, and the dark thunderstorm of doubt began to roll in. Had he given me the same calm, cold stare he gave Daddy when hiding his lies? Or, had Charlie conceded to his demand? Perhaps he even killed Charlie and had taken William by force.

  “I know you’re lying.”

  Thomas shrugged and chuckled, ignoring my accusation. His expression was unreadable. He circled around me, removing the coat from my shoulders Duncan had given me in the carriage. His fingers traced my neck, and then down along my collar bone, light at first, then his touch grew more forceful as his hands, and then his lips, wandered my neck. I hated feeling his touch, hated feeling his lips against my skin.