Passion's Fury (51 page)

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?”

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.”

Zeke got to his feet and stood glaring menacingly at April. “What about her? You gotta do something about her.”

Vanessa regarded her coldly. “The first thing we’re going to do is have her hand over that ring.”

April shook her head from side to side. Finally able to find her voice, she said, “The ring isn’t important, Vanessa. You and I are going to share Pinehurst. Poppa will approve. I’ll talk to him, beg him to understand—”

“You little fool!” Vanessa laughed harshly. “Poppa died in ’62.”

“No…” April moaned, refusing to accept what she had really known since the White House seance.

“Yes, he’s dead, and Pinehurst is mine, and there will be no sharing. I told you that a long time ago. Hand over that ring.”

Suddenly, a spirit she had thought long dead arose in her fiercely and April faced her sister defiantly. “No! No one knows where that ring is hidden except me, and I won’t tell you. Go ahead and kill me, but relatives will come one day to claim this estate, and they will want to see the ring as proof of your ownership. The whole family knew you were disowned, Vanessa. As long as you don’t have that ring, you’ll never own Pinehurst!

“I’ve tried to love you…” she rushed on, tears stinging her eyes. “I’ve begged you to forgive the way Poppa treated you. But you won’t
let
me love you. You choose to hate me. I honestly believe you would kill me and never know a moment’s remorse.”

She turned to Zeke and lashed out, “Did you know he held me prisoner the last time you sent me away? Held me prisoner in that shack down by the creek. If it hadn’t been for someone rescuing me…someone I loved more than my life…someone who is dead now…I would still be there…” She covered her face with her hands, sobbing uncontrollably, her whole body trembling.

“You no-good bastard!” Vanessa screamed, reaching out for a tall vase and throwing it at Zeke. He ducked, the vase shattering against the wall behind him. “I’ll deal with you later,” she shrieked, then turned to April once more. “Damn you, April, tell me where you hid that ring!”

April raised her tear-streaked face and screamed, “I’d rather go to my grave than give it to you.”

A slow, evil smile spread across Vanessa’s face. “Then go to your grave you shall, dear sister—but alive, not dead. We’ll just see how you like living in the family mausoleum. You can be with dear Poppa, be close to him. You will stay there until you tell me where you hid that ring!”