Passion's Fury

by Patricia Hagan

  She still had not looked at Rance. Now she walked to the door and through it without a single glance backward, keeping her back straight and her face set. She went into her own room, closed the door behind her, and leaned against it, staring ahead without seeing.

  A few hours later, when the hotel was quiet for the night, April lay in bed, wide awake, studying the ceiling. When she heard her door open softly, she knew who it was without turning to look, and joy began gathering in her.

  He stopped at the foot of her bed and gazed down at her. She returned his gaze. Neither spoke for several moments.

  “I won’t see you again after tomorrow,” Rance said finally. “I came to say good-bye…and to wish you luck with your protector.” He did not try to keep the sarcasm from his voice, and she bristled instantly.

  “Will I be worse off with Kaid than I have been with you? He’ll keep his hands off me.”

  “Aren’t you tired of pretending you don’t want me, April?” he asked quietly. Without waiting for her answer, he sat down beside her and drew back the covers. Looking deeply into her eyes, he reached over and touched her thigh, feeling the warmth of her through the thin cotton nightgown.

  April shuddered. She wanted to return his touch. But if she did, would he taunt her, make her admit that she wanted him? His hand moved upward and he leaned over to kiss her, a burning kiss that went on and on. She responded, returning his passion with hers, and her arms twined around his neck, pulling him closer. In that one endless kiss, the world receded and there was only their desire.

  Rance moved back slowly, briefly touching her face with his fingers, letting them trail down over the smooth cheek to her stubborn little chin.

  Suddenly he chuckled softly and began dancing his fingers slowly over her thighs and belly.

  “Years ago,” he murmured huskily, “I used to have fantasies about taming your wild spirit. Whenever I saw you at Pinehurst, I wondered about you. I think I desired you even then.”

  A puzzled frown furrowed her brow and he said, “No, I never cared for Vanessa. It was always you who intrigued me.”

  April relaxed again, and his stroking became hotter, more insistent. She writhed beneath his hands, and he bent for another kiss.

  She felt his fingers parting the soft flesh between her thighs and could not suppress the moan of pleasure which escaped her trembling lips as he began to caress her. Sweet hot flames of ecstasy shot into her innermost recesses.

  He continued to stroke rhythmically while they kissed. Then, raising his head, he whispered harshly, “Say you want me, April. Say you want me.”

  She could no longer resist him. “Yes, damn you,” she whispered hoarsely. “I want you.”

  No man, she thought, has ever made me feel this way…like living and dying all rolled into one.

  He wanted her as desperately as she did him. Quickly shedding his clothes, he mounted her, plunging himself all the way in, thrusting his hips to and fro, forcing himself to hold back…hold back until he felt her heels digging into his back, her nails clawing at the flesh of his shoulders. Only then did he allow himself the ultimate glory.

  Afterward, he held her against him. She cradled her head against his shoulder, her fingertips entwining the damp curling hairs of his chest. She could not fight him, not ever again. She was happy here, happier lying in his arms than she had ever been in her life, and she would not let pride keep her from admitting that. She would tell Rance she loved him, and pray that he would not taunt her any more.

  “Rance,” she began.

  Rance held her lovingly, gazing down into her face. “I love you, April,” he told her, letting go to touch her face lovingly with one hand. “I think I always have, but I thought that damned plantation meant more to you than me or any man ever could.”

  “I guess I was foolish enough to think that, too,” she admitted, her heart pounding tremulously at his nearness, at the realization that he did, truly, love her. “And I thought I was just a possession to you…something to own.”

  He laughed softly, smiling down at her in adoration. “Oh, yes, you are a possession, my beauty, and you always will be. I intend to own you, in bed and out, for the rest of my life. But I was ready to give you up, because I figured that’s what you wanted. I needed to know that you really loved me, April. And that’s all I was waiting for.”

  They kissed again for long, precious moments. Then he said, “Let’s declare a truce, my love. There never was any question of my letting you go—not with Blackmon or anyone else. You’re mine, and I’ll never let you go.”

  A splintering crash drove them apart, Rance leaping to his feet. Framed in the doorway stood Kaid, his face black with rage.

  “So, Darlin’,” he sneered, his voice shaking with fury, “you enjoy doing it with this one! You never cared for me, not at all, no matter how much I loved you.”

  As Rance turned away, reaching for his gun, Kaid shrieked at April, “You never cared for me! You just used me, damn you! Used me!”

  She was never sure, later, exactly how it happened. Kaid was screaming at her, his face contorted with the most awful fury she had ever seen. The next instant, a shot rang out and she was covered with blood. As she heard her own terrified screams, she realized it was not her own blood but Rance’s blood that splashed onto her face, her neck, her bosom. And then she knew no more.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Numbed by sorrow, April had lost track of the time they had been traveling. Each time she closed her eyes the image of Rance lying in a spreading pool of his own blood returned with stark horror. Dead. The word ripped its way through her mind, stunning her with grief. Dead, and only moments after they had both realized how deeply they really loved one another. It was unspeakably cruel. She silently cursed the God who had let this happen.

  She no longer cared whether they ever reached Alabama. She did not care if Kaid made good his frequent threats to kill her. She numbly did as she was told, riding the train, being tossed up onto a stolen horse once they reached Wilmington, riding through swamps and woodlands with the sun beating down fiercely.

  At night, Kaid would camp far away from the main roads, forcing her to eat whatever he could kill in the woods. A rabbit. A squirrel. Once, there was only a rattlesnake, cooked over a fire after it was skinned.

  He would laugh evilly. “Me and you are gonna be together for a long, long time. We made a deal. I take you back to that fancy plantation of yours, and then me and you just might even get married.”

  Strangely, he never tried to touch her, not ever. His love for her had turned wholly to hate, but he didn’t molest her or even suggest it. It was the single mercy in April’s life, and she was grateful.

  It took them almost a month to reach Montgomery, traveling slowly so as to avoid anyone who might ask why Kaid wasn’t fighting. Letting him lead her, pretending to be subservient, April gave Kaid the directions to Pinehurst.

  They had made their way through the woods, staying off the main road, as always. As they sat atop the fresh horses Kaid had stolen just outside Columbus, Georgia, April drank in the sight of her once-palatial home.

  The grounds were overgrown with weeds. The mansion, itself, was but a shell of what was once a splendid structure. Gone were the roses that had entwined the proud columns of the wide front porch. All of Pinehurst cried out in pain over having been neglected and allowed to die.

  “It looks deserted,” Kaid said, more to himself than to April. He tugged at his beard thoughtfully. She started to nudge her horse forward, but he reached out to block her way and snapped, “Don’t you go no further. I said it looks deserted. I can’t be sure it is. We ain’t gonna just go ridin’ up there. Not after what you told me once about your sister and the men she had working for her.”

  “I doubt they’re still here,” she said quietly, almost sadly. “I doubt that anyone is here anymore.”

  “Well, I’m gonna nose around a bit and be sure. These woods circle them grounds all the way around?”

&n
bsp; She nodded.

  “Then we hang back in the woods and poke about till it gets dark. We can tell if somebody is inside when it gets dark, ’cause they’ll be lightin’ up.”

  For the next several hours, they moved about the woods. April’s heart constricted as the utter decay of her home became more and more apparent. The servants’ quarters were entirely empty. The cattle pens were deserted and knee-high in weeds. The stables held no horses, either. The high-bred stock her father had taken such pride in were simply gone.

  “There ain’t nothing here, it don’t look like to me,” Kaid said finally, as they returned to their best vantage point. The blue sky began to pale to a darker shade, heralding the night. He looked at her for a long time, as though deep in thought, then said, “I think there’s some riches here to be had, darlin’. The slaves might’ve run off, and your sister may not have hung around when things got poor, but we can make something of this place, you and me. I’m gonna like livin’ here. I know how to rebuild this place into what it looks like it once was, a real palace. I’ll live like a goddamn king.”

  Suddenly, he jerked around straining to see through the thick foliage. April followed his gaze, a tremor darting through her as she saw a light in the window.

  “What room is that?” he demanded.

  She could not speak. She was overcome with the realization that someone was still living in the house! But who? Poppa? Vanessa?

  He hissed, “I asked you a question, damnit.”

  “The parlor,” she replied, not turning away from the house. “It’s the parlor.”

  “We’re gonna sneak up there, real quiet, and I’m gonna get the drop on whoever’s in there. We’re gonna go by my rules, darlin’, not theirs. The first thing I’m gonna do is kill whatever stud she’s got living in there. There won’t be nobody left ’cept me and you and your sister.

  “And you know something else?” He peered intently at her upturned face. “If your sister is nicer to me than you are, then she’s gonna be the one to share my kingdom, and you’ll be feedin’ the buzzards. Understand me?”

  Without waiting for a reply, he fastened his burly hand about her wrists and jerked her along. When they reached the weed-covered grounds, he forced her to crawl along with him on hands and knees.

  There was no sound save for the crickets chirping their early summer song, and even this ceased as the insects became aware of intruders in their realm. Above, the sky was blue black, and there was no moon to cast shadows. It was a night of total darkness. A night, April thought fearfully, created for murder.

  Kaid pulled her through the blackness to the rear of the house, groping his way, pausing now and then to ask her where they were in relationship to the parlor. They were heading for the back door of the house.

  She shivered in the night breeze. Somewhere along the way, she had lost her shawl, and her thin muslin dress was frayed.

  They reached the back porch steps. She felt the cold steel of a blade against her throat and held her breath in terror as Kaid whispered, “Now you’re gonna lead me inside. You’re gonna take me straight to that room where somebody is sitting. And you ain’t gonna bump into nothin’ on purpose just to make noise and let ’em know we’re here. I’ve got a knife in one hand and a gun in the other, and even though you’re still the prettiest woman I ever laid eyes on, I’ll kill you so quick you won’t have time to scream. You understand me?”

  She could only nod slightly, feeling the sharp blade nick her flesh. But the terror was gone. She was no longer afraid of dying. Rance was gone, and she saw no future for herself. He had killed the only man she had ever loved. Never before had she felt capable of taking a life, but, God forgive her, she knew she could snuff out Kaid’s without a second of remorse. The time, she vowed fiercely, would come.

  She led him up the stairs and opened the back door. The hinges squeaked loudly, and Kaid jerked her back, hissing, “Slowly, damn you, bitch. I told you not to make no noise!”

  This time, she pulled the door gently, and the squeak was faint. They stepped into the kitchen. He wrapped his fingers around the knife, making a fist which he held tightly against her throat. She could only take tiny, halting steps, as he kept holding her back, waiting long moments for any sound, any sign that their presence had been detected.

  It seemed to take forever to cross the kitchen and enter the hallway. April had to grope for the doorway. Then, toward the middle of the long corridor that ran the length of the house, she could see a pale golden light. The doors to the parlor—which stood between the main hallway and the front foyer—were open. Kaid could see the rest of the way himself and no longer depended on her to lead him. He continued to move cautiously, slowly, hesitating every few steps.

  Suddenly they could hear voices. April recognized Vanessa’s and, despite all that had happened, felt a warmth stir in her.

  She realized at once that Vanessa was drunk.

  “…don’t care what you hear in town,” Vanessa was saying. “The Yankees aren’t heading this way. Why do you have to look for trouble, Zeke?” She paused to hiccup. There was the sound of glass hitting glass as she poured herself another drink.

  “You haven’t had to fight in the damned war. You’ve lived here damn good, you bastard.”

  “You call this good? You even call this living?” He sounded angry. “The slaves run off. You’ve about sold all the silver. I’d like to know what the hell else is left besides the goddamn land. And when the Yankees come, they’re gonna take that.”

  “No, they won’t. I’ll give them shelter. Tell them I’m a Union sympathizer. They won’t take my land. Besides…” She hiccuped once more. “They aren’t coming.”

  “Damn you, Vanessa. Listen to me!”

  They heard the sound of glass shattering. April envisioned Zeke knocking Vanessa’s drink from her hand, sending it smashing into the fireplace.

  “I told you the war news isn’t good for the South. That crazy Yankee General Sherman is heading south. Some say he’s heading straight for Atlanta. And Grant is moving on Richmond. Damn it, let’s sell off the rest of the silver and get the hell out of here. We’ll go to Mexico.”

  “You’re crazy,” came her blistering retort. “Pinehurst is the biggest, richest plantation in all of Alabama, and I’m not leaving it. Not ever. Do you hear me? You get the hell out if you want to, but I’m staying! I’ve fought too hard to gain control here, and when the war is over, I’ll build this place back to what it once was. If you don’t want to be a part of all that, then to hell with you.”

  “You aren’t having another drink—”

  “You don’t tell me what to do, you bastard!”

  There was the sound of scuffling, and Kaid took advantage of the moment. Shoving April to one side, he rushed the rest of the distance into the arched doorway of the parlor, a weapon in each hand, and stood there, legs spread, face alight with triumph.

  April hurried after him, standing just behind him and a few feet to his left.

  Vanessa’s eyes widened in shock, then narrowed to stark freezing hatred as she saw April. Zeke demanded, “Just who the hell are you?” Nodding to April, he said, “You oughta know better than to come back here.”

  Vanessa quickly regained her composure. “I’ll handle this,” she snapped, eyes flicking over Kaid. “How dare you come storming into my home this way? I’ll have you arrested. And get that girl out of here. She was disowned by my father and has no right to be in this house!”

  “I’ll do the talking!” Kaid waved his gun ominously, and Vanessa fell silent. She was not, he decided at once, as beautiful as April. She was elegantly dressed in a rose satin gown, the bodice cut low, exposing a generous, appealing bosom. Her hair hung about her face in golden ringlets, a lovely sight. But there was just something, he thought, something ugly about her…ugly and undesirable. He made his decision easily. She would die. He would keep April.

  “April, here, can prove she was meant to have this place,” Kaid told them brusquely. �
�She told me about the ring her daddy give her. Whoever’s got that ring is the rightful owner here.”

  April cursed herself silently for that long ago day when she had so foolishly confided the story to him. Vanessa and Zeke exchanged anxious, alarmed looks. At least, April thought with some satisfaction, she had not told Kaid where the ring was hidden. That was her secret.

  “Now, the way I see it,” Kaid continued, enjoying his power, “you two ain’t nothin’ but poachers, and I figure the best thing to do is just go on and get rid of you so you won’t be around to make no trouble. I’ve come a long way and been through hell and back to get here. I’ve deserted the army, and I aim to sit out the rest of the war right here in this house. I sure don’t need nobody making trouble—”

  April saw him raise his hand slightly, knew instinctively that he was about to fire the gun. There was no time to think—only to act and act quickly—and she hurled herself against his side. He fell against the door opening. The gun exploded, the bullet shattering into the chandelier above them, sending down a shower of glass.

  Zeke leaped forward, hands outstretched, and April jumped backward into the foyer, out of the way. The two men thrashed wildly on the floor. Zeke had seen the knife in Kaid’s left hand, and it was this he was after, using every ounce of strength he could muster to fasten his hand around Kaid’s and twist downward, plunging the blade into the big man’s throat.

  April could not scream. She stood there in silent, frozen horror, hands clutching her own throat in revulsion as she watched the blood gurgling rapidly from Kaid’s. She closed her eyes and envisioned her beloved’s blood, blood let by the hand of the man who was now dying.

  “Get him out of here!”

  Her eyes blinked at the sound of Vanessa’s hysterical voice.

  “Get that son-of-a-bitch out of here. Dig a hole. Bury him. Do something with him. Just get him out of the house.”