Curtis rounded the corner, close on his father’s heels. “Could you at least pretend to be happy for me, for us?”
“I don’t know what to say, me lad.” Robert stopped before an oversized landscape painting on the wall. “Perhaps if I’d been there for ye more you wouldn’t have succumbed to a woman like that Jamison girl.” He shook his head, finally facing Curtis. “Pregnant. What a mess. Curtis, how could ye fall—”
“Enough. Just stop.” Curtis ran a hand through his hair. “I did not marry Cadence because she was pregnant. There is no mess, and I love my wife.” It was a struggle to keep his temper from quite simply exploding. “Look, Pa, if you can’t get used to the idea of my having married a Jamison then we won’t darken your doorstep again. I will never be the bane of your existence again. Is that really what you want?”
Robert stood rigid refusing to turn from the landscape adorning the wall.
“I give up.” Curtis threw his arms up, turning away. “I am done with you. I can forgive every argument we’ve ever had because I had a fair part in every one of them, but if you cannot see fit to give my wife a fair chance then you can go straight to hell. In fact, I have more than half a mind to send you there myself!”
Cadence stepped shakily from the washroom just as Curtis rounded the corner. She looked a fright, pale and shaky, and he immediately put supportive arms around her.
“Did you hear?” he asked.
She nodded. “Curtis, I think, Oh!” she clasped a hand over her mouth and flew back to the washroom.
“Cadence, is everything alright?” Worry settled over him. “You haven’t been this sick for some time.”
“Fine,” she choked through the wooden door. “It was just the soup.”
“Just the soup?” he murmured. “You didn’t even eat any.”
“I smelled it,” she sputtered a bit wryly. “Your father,” she said sounding somewhat recovered, “go talk to him.”
“I am not leaving you like this to—” she emerged midsentence “—go and argue with him.”
“Go,” she commanded.
“No,” he crossed his arms stubbornly. “That man is like a brick wall and—”
“That man,” Cadence placed her hands on her hips a tinge of color returning to her cheeks, “is the only grandfather our children will ever know and I don’t care if it kills you to make peace with him, you will do it.”
“No. He is nothing but a stubborn bastard!”
“So are you, but I love you anyway.” Her face softened. “He is a good man and he may not be very good at showing it, but he loves you.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. She was the one person in the world with whom he could not argue logic. “I know that,” he grumbled trying to ignore her delicately arched eyebrows. “Very well, I’ll talk to him, but only for you and not today.”
“Fair enough,” she nodded, shadows beneath her eyes indicating how very tired she was. “Have you talked with your brothers about the plan to trap Colonel Fielding?”
“Yes, we’re going over the specifics after lunch, but Cadence I’m not sure this is such a good idea. We have to think of more than just ourselves now.” He tenderly he tipped her chin. “If anything happens to you or our baby…” The thought alone was unbearable.
Placing a hand over his she turned troubled eyes to him. “Curtis, it’s the best plan we have and I can’t live with the constant worry that he could attack at any moment. And it isn’t just me. He could hurt anyone in your family, even Marissa or Christopher. The best chance we have to reclaim our lives is to take the offensive and make him play our game.” Gently she touched his cheek. “I won’t even be in any real danger because I’ll be secretly surrounded by guards every minute of every day, right? He’ll never get near me.”
“But if something goes wrong,” he implored. “What if—”
“Curtis you know he’s watching us too closely. He’s been sending notes daily—“
“I’ve seen the notes,” he bit out pulling her into his arms. With a heavy sigh he breathed deeply of her scent. “Sunday then?”
“Sunday.”
“Curtis?” Genie’s soft voice cut through the tender moment. “Oh, there you are,” she smiled warmly. “Why don’t you take Cadence upstairs to rest for a while?”
“Cadence?” He raised a questioning brow.
“Thank you,” she nodded.
In one swift motion Curtis bent to scoop her into his arms.
“Curtis,” she giggled, settling her arms about his neck. “I can walk.”
“Ah,” he leaned in to steal a quick kiss, “but you shouldn’t have to.” To Genie he threw down the stairs. “Assemble everyone in the parlor. We need to discuss strategy.”
* * *
Click, clunk, snap…
“Curtis,” Cadence yawned and rolled absently to the side, not quite opening her eyes as her husband entered the room. She’d always been a fairly high energy person and not much for napping, but pregnancy left her thoroughly exhausted. How long had she been sleeping? Soft footfalls approached the bed and her eyes fluttered open a smile ready on her lips.
The sneering visage of the man in black stared back at her, sure she was dreaming yet another nightmare she did not immediately try to scream.
“Hello, Mrs. Langston.” A cruel hand clamped over her mouth as his body snaked across the length of her. Silent screams welled in her throat as the harsh reality that she was not dreaming swiftly descended. Thrashing against Colonel Fielding she made valiant effort shake the wiry steely frame pinning her to the bed. “Take it easy Mrs. Langston I’m not going to kill you.” He chuckled leaning in to inhale the scent of her hair. “Yet.” Flattened over the top of her Fielding let a wandering hand assess her curves. “I must say my old friend has certainly outdone himself. You are far more exquisite than any of his conquests I knew of during our earlier acquaintance.”
“Mmhm!” she tried to scream against his hand.
“Oh, now, my dear, none of that.” Fielding grinned sickeningly and nuzzled the side of her face with his own. Brandishing a long silver knife he pressed the blade to the side of her throat. Cadence shot a daggered glare at Colonel Fielding as he stuffed dusty rags into her mouth and tied a gag securely around her mouth. Balling a fist she waited for him to reach for the bonds intended for her hands and let fly with a vicious right hook.
Pain exploded in her right hand as an audible pop echoed through the narrow confines of the room. Tears sprang to her eyes as Colonel Fielding, chuckling as though swatting a fly away from his cheek, snared her wrist in a brutal fist. “Come now, Mrs. Langston, you’re not doing yourself any favors.” He clicked his tongue as though to scold her. “You’ll live at least a few minutes longer if you don’t anger me over much. You see, my dear,” he knelt before her, his black eyes directly at her eye level and not six inches away, “it will be hours yet before anyone realizes you’re missing. Then it may be days before your body is found where I’m taking you.”
Body? Cadence shook with fear as his hot sticky breath washed over her face and fleetingly she wondered if this is what Allan West felt when Colonel Fielding had ordered him killed. Curtis was nothing like this devil of a man.
“Shall we be going? I would hate for my old friend to find us before we’ve had the chance to thoroughly enjoy ourselves.”
* * *
After discussing the logistics of the plan with his father and brothers Curtis drifted from the parlor, watching the sun fade through a large picture window with unseeing eyes.
“I didn’t realize you were such a military strategist,” Robert said.
Curtis hadn’t heard his father approach. “You might be surprised, Pa,” Curtis feigned indifference. He’d been a valued strategist before discharge from the army and didn’t particularly care if his father believed it or not, or so he kept trying to convince himself.
“I would doubt that,” his father grumbled adding a nearly imperceptible insult under his breath.
; “Alright.” Curtis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I promised my wife I’d make peace with you, so let’s just have this out once and for all. We’re both adults. Let’s try behaving that way for once.”
“Gladly.” Robert Crossed his arms.
Turning steady eyes to his father Curtis continued, “Cutting through all of the old arguments, let’s call a spade a spade. I am never going to live up to your expectations of what it is to be a Langston. Why?”
“You have caused nothing but trouble in this family for years. I had thought you may be beyond all that but then you brought that Jamison girl into my house. Is her brat even yours?”
By the grace of God—or perhaps it was an angel as he could hear Cadence’s steady voice speaking to him—Curtis faced his father with an expression of absolute calm. “No more about my wife. She is here to stay.”
His father seemed not to hear. “I bailed you out of the jailhouse fifteen times in two years, and that doesn’t account for the ten other times yer brothers or Elizabeth Cole did it for me.” Robert’s eyes blazed with raw anger and disappointment. “Worst of all you shirked a soldier’s life nigh a year into the war. Me own son! All those poor boys dead in battle and you are the celebrated hero.”
Shocked, Curtis stared in absolute disbelief at his father. “Wherever did you come by such a notion? Is that truly your opinion of me?”
“Tell me it isn’t true, Curtis,” Robert raised his hands, the gesture wary. “I’ve heard all the ridiculous war hero stories, but I know ye better than to believe it. The only truth I know is you disappeared for three long years without a word. We thought ye were dead, but it’s most painfully obvious you took advantage of an opportunity to desert.”
For a long while Curtis remained silent. His father seemed locked into an illusion of Curtis at age sixteen. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.” He turned to his father with sad, broken eyes. “I’ve never claimed to be a hero, Pa, but there is one point I would like to clarify.” Contemplatively he traced a scar on the back of his right hand. “You have accused me on more than one occasion of shirking a soldier’s life nigh a year into the war, but how much war did you actually see?”
His father, ever a hard man, did not reply.
“I am a disappointment to you for stupid, juvenile pranks like joyriding in the livery wagon, but you don’t know half of it. I have committed atrocities truly worth shame, and I don’t need your judgment. One day I will burn. While you were sitting in your fancy Richmond office next to Jeff Davis himself how many casualty reports did you see? Hundreds? How many thousands of statistics crossed your desk?”
Curtis unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. “I was one of those statistics, Pa, I was there. All those names you saw on paper, I saw their faces.” Three more buttons came undone. “At night I wake up and I can still smell the smoke, and gunpowder… the blood. I hear them screaming.” He shuddered as the last of the buttons came open. “The next time you think I was too much a coward for a soldier’s life think of this.” He pulled his shirt open, revealing the ugly scars marring his chest, the remnants of a past he’d sooner not remember. “I never shirked a soldier’s life or deserted.”
Robert appeared speechless.
“I’m sorry if this disappoints your perfect illusion of my being a disappointment, but I was found unfit for duty and discharged from service after being shot twice. I woke on the battlefield only to have a mortar explode ten feet from.” Stepping forward, Curtis growled with an almost frightening sort of calm, “I spent months in an army hospital, and started running supplies because the docs didn’t even have enough medical equipment to so much as dress wounds properly. I’m not a hero and I deserve about any insult you could throw in my face, but I will not tolerate you accusing me of desertion.”
For an eternity Robert did not move. “I,” he gestured the branding silver scars, “I didn’t know.”
“No, I’m sure it’s easier for every father to view their sons as deserting cowards.”
Robert met his gaze for a long moment. “I—I’m sorry, Curtis.”
“I have no doubt.” Curtis turned away. “You might try apologizing to Cadence later, she heard every word you said and actually defended you for it.”
Curtis didn’t wait for an answer but quit the room, surprising at peace after the confrontation. He shook his head in some bemusement. The words I’m, sorry, and Curtis had never once escaped his father’s lips and certainly not in a row. Only time would tell if he and his father would manage to mend their differences. As Curtis mounted the stairs, he felt content just knowing his wife waited upstairs. Striding to the door of his childhood bedroom he twisted the knob and stepped quietly inside.
“Cadence,” he murmured testing her wakefulness. When no response was forthcoming he closed the door quietly before stepping toward the bed. In the dim light from the windows it took a moment to realize the bed was empty.
Twenty-nine
Cadence!” in a panic Curtis tore first through their bedroom and then the upper floor of the mansion. Flying down the stairs he found the rest of his family visiting leisurely in the parlor. “Has Cadence come downstairs? I can’t find her anywhere.”
“I haven’t seen her.” Genie rose and everyone else was quick to follow suit. “Let’s not panic, I’m sure she’s around. After all where could she have gone?”
Curtis tried to grasp at Genie’s logic but could not dismiss the hair standing up at the back of his neck. Fielding had been watching them closely, too closely for comfort as was evidenced by the daily letters offering excruciating detail of their activities. Was it possible Colonel Fielding had slipped into the house and taken her? A cold trembling wrapped around his legs, spreading up the length of his body and seeped into his bones.
When I take your wife from you, you’ll know it. I’m going to make sure you hear her scream.
“They’re still here,” he murmured pressing a hand to his brow eyes flicking about the room.
“Pardon?”
“They’re still here,” Curtis said a second time, mind whirling as he tried to recall exactly how long since he’d taken Cadence up stairs and which parts of the house would have been most easily accessible to a man wishing to abduct a woman right beneath his nose.
“Who is still here?”
“Fielding,” Curtis replied curtly. “Jacob,” he barked, turning to his youngest brother. “Ride into Charleston and get the sheriff, now!”
After rounding up the handful of servants and dividing the house and surrounding plantation grounds into search areas Curtis explained what he believed the situation to be. “I think Fielding kidnapped Cadence and is holding her somewhere on the grounds so that I’ll know when,” he gulped around the lump of dread lodged in his throat, “if he tries to harm her.”
“So much for our brilliant plan to trap the bastard,” Craig locked his gaze, snapping the chamber of his loaded revolver closed. “Let’s go.”
* * *
The colonel shoved Cadence firmly against the wall of one of the small old shacks scattered across the plantation. Fielding forced her to sit and straddled her legs, successfully imprisoning her beneath his lanky frame. Plucking the long silver knife from his knee length riding boot he waved the blade in front of her face. “Where shall we begin, Cadence? You don’t mind if I call you Cadence?”
Tears dripped over the bottom of her lashes. This was it. The end. I love you, Curtis, she thought, willing him to know her last thoughts were of him. With agonizing slowness Fielding fitted the pointed end of the knife beneath each button lining the front of her dress… Pop, plink… Pop, plink… Pop, plink… With each button clattering to the ancient dirt packed floor her gown opened offering him a view of her breasts covered only by a thin lace and silk chemise. When his eyes raked greedily over her body she felt dirty. She’d thought to be strong, not show him an undue amount of fear, but it was impossible. She was shaking uncontrollably and her body convulsed with sobs. Curtis
! she screamed silently.
The door exploded inward.
“You son of a bitch! Get off her!” Curtis hurled into the room, his entire demeanor murderous. Craig Langston was close behind.
It took less than half a second for Fielding to respond. In a fluid motion he leapt to his feet, hauling Cadence against the front of his chest, training the icy blade of the knife against the flesh of her throat. She gulped, imploring her husband with her eyes.
“Sergeant Langston,” Fielding said as pleasantly as crossing paths with an old friend, “so good of you to join us, and this must be your brother, the good doctor.”
“Let her go,” Curtis demanded matter-of-factly training his sidearm between the eyes of his adversary.
“And why would I do that?” the man smiled blandly. “If I let her go you’ll shoot me before I have any chance of escape but if I hold onto her,” the bland smile widened, “you wouldn’t dare shoot for fear of hitting her. Now, if you try to take even half a step closer she’ll be dead in a heartbeat. In all truth, Sergeant, it would almost be enough to kill her and let you shoot me, but that is my last resort.”
Fielding took a side step toward the door of the old shack, dragging Cadence with him.
She balked.
“My dear you can come quietly or by force, but I promise it will be far less detrimental to your health to come quietly.” To emphasize the point Fielding trailed the knife along her throat turning the edge in just enough to draw a small trickle of blood from her flesh.
Cadence closed her eyes forcing back the panic and hot tears. Opening her eyes she found herself staring into the tortured gaze of her husband. I love you, she mouthed, willing the pain out of his eyes. She couldn’t bear to think of him blaming himself for the tragedy ahead of them.
* * *
Despair closed in on Curtis. Fielding had maneuvered around him and Craig, backing toward the door, dragging Cadence with him. And she was bleeding. Bleeding! The thought of a single moment of his life without Cadence was beyond words… suffocating, unbearable! To wake each morning without her curled beside him, to never smell the sweet scent that seemed to surround her hair, to never again make love onboard ship...
Cadence (Langston Brothers Series) Page 24