Undaunted Love, page 26
“Ayuh!” Gardner called back. “Got something?”
“No, just wonderin’. You think Gingras is really gone?” He bent down and pulled a wiry weed.
Gardner shrugged. “Should be. But I can’t get the measure of the man. He ain’t from around here, and seems like Hugh only brought him here to get his Yankee friends land.”
“I don’t understand about that. Hugh was an advisor to the Confederate government.”
“Men like Hugh, they don’t have loyalties, beyond money. He had contacts up North before the War, business associates, bankers. I imagine that when the War started goin’ bad, he found a way to get in touch with those men, start buildin’ support for his ambitions about the Senate. He found a way to pay for votes, for contributions.” Gardner stopped walking and looked at Rafe. “You’re in his way, you know.”
“Me? Why? I’m not doin’ anything to Hugh Byrd, leastwise nothin’ that ain’t already been done. And Livvie wasn’t gonna marry Wyman anyways.”
“The new fella is nicer, and he’s from an even more influential family. I imagine Cole Sanderson’s daddy ain’t gonna be too happy that Liv’s already married, and with a baby, worse still. Dependin’ on how Hugh tells it, he may lose his support.” Gardner plucked a hornworm off a tobacco leaf and plunked it in his bucket.
“Well, he certainly can say he didn’t know. That’s the truth.”
“Hugh don’t deal in the truth much. So even when he tells it, who knows if anyone’ll believe him. If he can use Gingras to get rid of you, you can be sure he will, even if it won’t help him now. You and Livvie need to get on up to Charleston and on that ship.”
Returning to the house for lunch, the men washed up and went into the kitchen. Nackie and Madeline were chatting and cutting out biscuits with a glass. Madeline smiled at her husband, then looked with surprise at Rafe.
“Where’s Liv?” she asked.
Rafe and Gardner looked at her in confusion. “We’ve been out on the back ten all morning, wormin’ and weedin’,” Gardner said. “She weren’t out there.”
Madeline and Nackie exchanged a glance. “Judah brung in a note for her, and she read it and said she was meetin’ you at the barn,” Nackie said to Rafe.
“I didn’t send a note, and I only went to the barn a few minutes ago to wash up…” He frowned, looking at Gardner, then back at Nackie. “He wouldn’t…” he muttered, and ran out the kitchen door. Gardner followed, leaving Madeline and Nackie standing in confusion.
They burst through the big barn door, Rafe calling out, “Liv? Livvie? Are you here?”
Gardner walked through the dark barn, looking in stalls and behind bales of hay. Rafe quickly climbed up the ladder to the loft. There was a blanket spread out on the hay, anchored on one corner by a basket. A hat, just like his own, was resting on a bale near the wall. Rafe felt the blood drain from his face, and his heart started beating so strongly that all he could hear was it thumping in his ears.
“Gard! Come up here!”
Nackie gently questioned Judah. The boy was terrified, and he huddled against his mother on his narrow bed. Chloe stroked his hair and whispered to him, and Nackie sat calmly, a smile on his face, patient.
“It’s all right, son, everything’s jes fine. No one’s sayin’ you did nothin’ wrong. Mistuh Gard, he ain’t mad, nor Miz Madeline, neither. But we need you to tell us ‘bout dat note, Judah, so’s we can find Miz Livvie. You want to find her, I know, so you just tell me all about it, and we’ll git to findin’ her.”
Chloe kissed her son on the head, and hugged him. The boy stopped quivering and closed his eyes. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I wuz doin’ my chores, those what Mama and Miz Maddie tole me for the day. I was cleanin’ out the trough so’s I could put clean water in, and a man, he comes around the corner of the barn. He scared me, a little bit, but den he smile at me, and he give me a sweetie, and he say he a friend a’Miz Livvie and was passin’ by to Charleston so could I give her a note. Then he give me another sweetie, and I say I will, so he give me da note, and den he left.” He said it all quickly, with hardly a break in the story. Tears ran down his face. “He wuz nice, Nack, he wuz. He… he smiled at me, and he say it was a lark, just a treat for Miz Livvie. He didn’t seem like one to hurt her, I swear!”
“We don’t know he hurt her, Judah. She jus’, she be gone is all, and Mistuh Rafe and Mistuh Gardner, they want to find her, bring her back home.” He patted the boy on the knee. “Now, what did this man look like?”
Closing his eyes, Judah said quietly, “He were tall, almos’ as tall as Mistuh Rafe, but he had black hair like Mistuh Gardner, and blue eyes. Really blue. He were big, too, with a cloak on, and I thought it were too hot for that cloak, but he pulled the sweeties from the pockets, so…” Chloe hugged him tightly, looking over his head at Nackie, concern on her kind face.
“Thank you, Judah. You done a good job. Now I’m gonna go tell Mistuh Rafe what you say, and if you think a’somethin’ else, you tell yo mama, you hear?”
The boy nodded miserably, and Nackie left the small cabin and walked as quickly as his old legs would carry him back to the house.
“Wyman,” Rafe said angrily.
“Ayuh, sounds like it,” agreed Gardner, who was checking his shotgun. Madeline handed Rafe a rifle.
“Where would he take her?” Rafe asked. “Does he still rent a house in Byrd’s Creek?”
“I don’t know,” Madeline said. “But how could he get her into a house in the middle of town, in the middle of the day? Everyone knows Liv, and she would be screamin’ and hollerin’ and havin’ a conniption.”
Rafe smiled grimly and thought, If he hasn’t knocked her out. But he didn’t say it out loud, knowing that Madeline was already terrified for her sister. But it was true, if Livvie was alive and conscious, she wouldn’t be going quietly.
“We need to tell Sheriff Gingras,” Gardner said quietly.
“That oughta go down a treat,” Rafe said sarcastically.
Ignoring him, Gardner turned to his wife. “We’ll go to Byrd’s Creek and find the sheriff first. We’ll check the house Wyman was stayin’ in. If we don’t find her, we’ll start askin’ questions. You stay here, case she gets back. If Wyman Phelps turns up, shoot him.” He handed her a rifle.
They raced across the island, over the bridge, and into Byrd’s Creek. Rafe told Gardner to find Gingras, and he set off to the house where Wyman had lived while he worked for Hugh Byrd. When he got there, he leapt off the horse and ran to the front door of the small clapboard bungalow, pounding on it with both fists.
“Open up! Hey! Open up!” he hollered, continuing to bang on the door.
He heard the latch, and when the door opened an inch he pushed inside. It was dim and it took his eyes a moment to adjust in the dark foyer. He turned quickly to face the person who opened the door. In front of him was a young girl, about six, with wide brown eyes and a terrified expression. He heard footsteps and turned, and found himself face to face with an older version of the girl, a woman in her twenties with the same wide brown eyes. But her expression was one of fury, and she was aiming a rolling pin directly at his head.
Chapter Fifty-Five
RAFE THREW HIMSELF TO THE right, and the blow landed soundly on his left shoulder. He heard a loud crack and pain shot through his chest and arm. He staggered and went down to one knee. When he looked up, he saw that the woman was pulling her arm back for another whack. He threw up his right arm.
“Wait! I’m looking for someone, for Wyman Phelps. He lived here!”
The woman kept the rolling pin high, but stopped the arc of the blow. “Aint’ no Wyman here. My husband’s name is Todd. Todd Ray.”
Keeping his hand up in case she decided to continue the swing, Rafe sat back on his heels, leaning against the wall. “I’m not going to hurt you… I’m sorry, I was looking for Phelps. He, he has taken my wife.” He was sweating with the pain that had taken hold of his entire left side. “Please, I’ll leave. I’m sorry…”
The woman slowly lowered the rolling pin. “He took your wife?” she asked incredulously.
“Livvie Byrd. She’s my wife.” He rested his head back on the wall for a moment, then took a deep breath and tried to rise. A wave of nausea overtook him and he fell back, pale and sweating profusely.
“Livvie Byrd? Madeline’s sister? She ain’t married.” She raised the rolling pin again, and Rafe once again raised his right arm to ward off the blow.
“I’m Rafe Colton. If you know Madeline, you must remember me. Gardner Kinney is gettin’ the sheriff. I promise you, I’m Livvie’s husband, and she’s missing.” The thought of it gave him a surge of energy fueled by anger, and he managed to push himself up the wall with his legs until he was standing upright. “My family, we had a farm, out to the east side of town.”
“Rafe? Oh my goodness, it is you! I didn’t recognize you! Oh dear, let me help you. I’m so sorry about your arm.” She started to take his right arm to lead him to a chair, but Rafe shook his head.
“I gotta meet Gardner and the sheriff. We gotta find her.” He pushed off the wall and walked jerkily to the door. Every movement made the broken collarbone grind painfully. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” He didn’t turn around as he walked out the door, down the walk, and to his horse.
Unable to use his left arm, he put his foot in the stirrup and used the horn of the saddle to haul himself onto his belly before swinging his leg over. It was an agony, and he fought for consciousness. Finally, he managed to sit upright. He gathered the reins with his right hand and urged the horse on. He headed down the street to the sheriff’s office, hoping that Gardner had found Gingras there, and that they wouldn’t have to traipse all over Edisto looking for him.
Gardner’s horse was hitched in front of the jail, and Rafe could hear raised voices coming from the open door. When he entered, Gardner was yelling at Gingras, his hands on his hips, leaning over the shorter man.
“That gentleman gave my Judah candy and asked him to give Olivia a note. The note said to meet Rafe in the barn. Her husband. So she went, apparently, and now she’s missin’. Judah’s ain’t tellin’ no tall tale, Mr. Sheriff. The boy was terrified, and he ain’t never seen Wyman Phelps before. Now, where would he go?”
Gingras was pale, and sweat was dripping down his forehead. When Rafe entered, he paled further. “Wyman ain’t lived here in a year or so. I don’t know where he is.”
“He’s come to town. He told you Rafe was at my house… Don’t deny it!” Gardner said when the sheriff started to speak. “He came to my house and threatened my family, and then he ran and told you that Rafe was there. Didn’t you think that was just a little bit strange, since he don’t even live here no more? Didn’t you wonder why he was tellin’ you?”
The sheriff shook his head. “Wyman and I, we, we’ve known each other. Awhile. I come from Savannah.”
Rafe shook his head in disbelief. “So now we know how you got this job, anyway. Are you gonna do it, or not?” The sharpness of the pain had subsided to a grinding ache, but his anger kept him moving forward.
Gingras was silent for a moment, then came to a decision. “Let’s find her. I can think of a few places to look. I’ll get my men, and we’ll go out to the Hauser place. Wyman often slept in the back barn out there when he was in town. Old Mrs. Hauser never goes out there. And there’s a cattle path to the road that bypasses the house.” He strapped on a holster and slapped in his revolver. “Gardner, you check the Byrd house. Only Emmy’s there now, and if he came in the back with Livvie, he could overtake the old woman. From what I hear, Emmy’d do anything for Livvie. Rafe…” He hesitated. Noticing that Rafe was injured for the first time, he said, “Are you all right? You don’t look so good…”
“I’m fine,” Rafe replied through gritted teeth. “Where? Where do I go?”
“To your house. Wyman… Wyman has been trying to convince his daddy to buy your house, and the farmland from Hugh, too. Ain’t no one lived there since Mr. Monighan was killed…” He sputtered to a stop. Both men had run out of the building, leaving him standing alone.
Once again, mounting the horse brought a new flush of agony to Rafe’s left side. Gardner brought his horse next to him and helped keep him upright until the wave of dizziness passed.
“What happened?” Gardner asked.
“Rolling pin,” Rafe said, waving off any further questions. “My house is further than the Byrd’s. If Livvie ain’t there and Emmy’s all right, you follow after me.”
Gardner nodded and they rode off, galloping down the road, leaving only dust in their wake.
The ride was familiar and yet strange at the same time. Galloping made Rafe giddy with pain, and he found himself laughing and crying with each pulse of the horse’s strides. He kept his mind on his wife, and kept her face in front of him, willing himself to stay on the horse. If Wyman had gone to the Colton house, the only thing between him and Livvie was Rafe, and Rafe would die before he let Wyman hurt her.
Rafe turned down what was once his own drive, and kicked the horse to spur her on. The chestnut mare was flagging, the heat and hard ride making her sides foam, but Rafe pushed her until they arrived at the front steps. There were no signs of life, but the horse was snorting through her nose and stamping, and Rafe couldn’t hear much. He slid off and walked her to the barn, hitched her near a trough that was half full of murky water, and then walked twenty feet away from her. He stood still and listened. As his pain subsided, he heard the faint whicker of a horse. It wasn’t his – she was still standing with her head down by the trough, sides bellowing in and out. He walked quietly to the barn and pushed open the door. Inside was a covered buggy, and a black horse was eating oats in a stall.
He knew that the barn, which had been hidden from the house before he sold off the timber, was now visible from the windows, but there was no other way to approach the house with stealth from where he was, unless he waited until night. By night… No, he wouldn’t think of that. He left the barn and held his rifle in his right hand. He didn’t know how he’d fire it, since he could barely lift his left arm. But he would, if Livvie was in there. He would.
Chapter Fifty-Six
HE HAD A HUGE ADVANTAGE, having grown up in this house. He entered through the sleeping porch, knowing which boards would squeak and protest with his weight and avoiding them. He crept through the kitchen, surprised to find that it looked much as it had when he lived there. Mr. Monighan had taken everything from his mother, and not bothered to change a thing. He grabbed a knife, slipping it between his belt and trousers.
He looked quickly into the hallway, seeing no one. He took a few steps in, then stopped and listened. The old house had always made noises of its own, settling and moaning in the wind. Rafe knew those as well as he knew his mother’s voice. But now there were other noises, the groaning of floorboards that weren’t a part of the house’s rhythm. It was coming from upstairs.
Slowly, he walked to the stairs. If Wyman was in his mother’s room, he’s both seen and heard Rafe approach. If he was in Rafe’s own room, he would have heard the horse, but might not have gone to the front windows to see who was coming. He strained to listen. It was quiet. Staying on the edge of the treads, next to the wall, because he knew that almost all of them squeaked, he started up the stairs. He moved slowly, ignoring the pain radiating through his shoulder and neck and down into his chest, holding his finger on the trigger of the rifle, ready to swing it up and fire.
He was halfway up the flight when he heard a muffled moan, the sound of flesh meeting flesh, and a woman’s cry. Rafe’s face flushed. Wyman had just hit his wife. He stopped and closed his eyes, praying for Livvie, and praying that his anger would be kept in check until he found her. The sound had come from his bedroom, though, and that gave him critical information.
He reached the top of the stairs and stepped into the wide hall. Stopping again to listen, he heard the floorboards groan. Wyman was by the window, judging by the sound. Rafe considered. It was likely that the door was locked, and, even uninjured, he would be hard pressed to break the iron lock on the thick oak door. There was another door in the room, which led to what had been his nursery. The room hadn’t been used in some time, at least when his mother owned the house, but it wasn’t generally locked. Rafe had played in that room when he was a boy and the rain kept him inside, and the family had treated the two rooms as his own.
Slipping down the wall, Rafe opened the first door on the right. The knob was stiff, but the door swung open. The drapes were closed in the room, making it feel gloomy except for a few thin shafts of sunlight coming from the edges of the curtains. Dust motes floated there, and even in the gloom Rafe could see that everything in the room was covered with a thick layer of dust. Sheets had been draped over a rocking chair in front of the interior door.
When he tried to lift the wooden chair to move it, he gasped at the tearing, grinding sensation in his chest and shoulder. Afraid he’d made enough noise to alert Wyman to his whereabouts, he stood, leaning on the door frame, listening. He heard a woman’s voice murmur, and then an angry answer and another slap. Livvie cried out, and Wyman gripped the shotgun tighter, clenching his jaw. He heard more conversation, and took advantage of the noise and distraction to slowly slide the chair on its rockers until he had clear access to the door.
