Shades of Gray (2 page)

He stepped to
the side and nodded toward the door.  One shrug of his shoulder and the crate
he carried would pin the man against the jamb.  No one would ever believe it
was accidental.  The town’s residents hadn’t believed the truth, why would they
question a direct attack?  He shifted his gaze toward Reece, his jaw flexing. 

Reece looked
past Gray and swept the room with a quick glance.  Utter enjoyment spread
across his face, exposing perfectly straight teeth.  He leaned his arm against
the frame and crossed one foot over the other.  “Is that any way to treat a
bridegroom?”

Gray turned
his head to face Reece and slid his hand to the back of the crate.  At this
angle, he could shove the entire end of the box into the man’s scornful face.

“Gray!” Mr.
Shields yelled from the back of the room.  “Donald isn’t the only one the
magistrate would like to see behind bars.  I know what you’re thinking, and I
don’t blame you a bit.  But, can you afford to be locked up?”

Reece
chuckled.  He raised his open hand and inspected his fingernails.  “As soon as
my wife gets settled,” he flicked his gaze upward, “we’ll make a point to
invite you over.  I know how you like the English ladies.”

Gray’s
shipment clattered to the floor and in one movement, he caught Reece by the
neck.  Pinning him to the door, he fought the urge to squeeze.

“Gray!” Mr.
Shields screamed.

He had waited
for an opportunity like this, dreamed of the man being clutched in his grasp,
squeezing until his breath ceased.  He would sacrifice the justice he
desperately wanted to extract revenge for this man’s cruel act.  A pulse beat
under his fingertips, exactly as he imagined.  He had the strength to end his
life.  Why?  Why couldn’t he compress his grip?

Reece’s brows
drew together, obviously confused as to why he still breathed.  “Do it, Gray,”
he coaxed.  “Choke me.  With all of these witnesses, I will possess everything
you own.  Everything.” 

Someone pulled
on his arm, and Gray released his hold.  Mr. Shields’ held Gray’s battered
package up to him.  His eyes held no contempt, only understanding.

Gray accepted
both and pushed past Reece, scraping the crate against him as he left.  He
burst outside and hurried down the sidewalk, gulping air as he walked.  Turning
a corner, he collapsed against the brick wall.  Unable to face another pointing
finger, he closed his eyes and waited for his body to stop trembling.  Although
the throbbing in his ears continued to pound, his pulse finally subsided.  He
shifted the weight of the heavy crate.  Why didn’t he leave it in the carriage
before dodging out of sight?  One man had removed everything good from his
life, and Reece’s mocking laughter had fueled five years of Gray’s blinding
rage.  Mr. Shields was wrong.  Gray didn’t have control of his temper where
Reece Mullins was concerned.  He only had contempt and hatred for the man. 
Still, there was no need to reignite community animosity.  He breathed deep and
pushed himself away from the building.  His carriage was one block away, he
could find rest there.  He tightened his arm around the crate and rounded the
corner.  Something unexpectedly soft blocked his path.  Lowering his box, he
looked to see what damage he had caused with his carelessness.

In front of
him, a woman stumbled backward, tripping over her dropped satchels.  Her arms
flailed the air, grasping for anything to break her fall.  Landing with a thud,
an oversized straw hat fell from her head, revealing long, golden blonde hair. 
Gray dropped his box to the ground and bent to help her up.  Accepting his
hand, she stood to her feet.

“Please
forgive me,” she said, and scrambled to gather her bags.  “I didn’t mean to. .
. ”  She righted the overturned cases and lined them up next to her. 

Wind blew and
caught her hat, blowing it against Gray’s legs.  His stomach fluttered and he
froze.  It had only been a twinge, but it struck like a lightning bolt.  He
stared down at the woman rummaging for her belongings.  How could a strange
woman stir something in him he thought long dead?  Rattled, he picked up her
hat and handed it to her. 

“Thank you,”
she said.  She tilted her head and blinked large green eyes up at him.  “I
should have paid closer attention to where I was walking.”

“There’s no
need to apologize.  The fault is mine.”  He glanced around to see if someone
searched for her.  Except for the few passersby who held to the opposite side
of the street, they were relatively alone.  Rain spattered the dry roadway,
spotting the dirt with pea-sized divots.  Gray touched her elbow and guided her
under an awning.  He glanced up at the sky and then back to her.  From the
heaviness of the drops, she should have time to reach her destination without
being drenched.  “May I direct you?” he asked.

Her brows drew
together and she stepped closer.  She touched her hand to his arm.  “By any
chance, are you Reece Mullins?”

Gray
stiffened, his anger rising.  “I am not,” he stated flatly.

She bent her
arms to cover her chest, and her fingers fluttered the lace on the front of her
dress.  “I’m sorry,” she said.  “I didn’t mean to presume.  It’s only, my name
is Katherine Bailey and I am to meet Mr. Mullins at the general store, but was
delayed.  When I saw you, I thought he had come to look for me.”

Gray stepped
to the side and pointed to a spot down the street.  “You will find him there.”

She bobbed a
thank you and hurried to her belongings. From the bulging sides of the canvas,
it appeared as though everything she owned was crammed into the three cases. 
She huddled one bag under each arm, and clutched the last satchel in her hand. 
Wobbling away from him, she looked like a pack mule heading into the unknown. 
The rain fell heavier, and she hurried her steps.  If she knew what kind of man
she ran to, she would leave everything she owned to get away from him.

Gray waited
for her to disappear into the store.  She hesitated before entering, but didn’t
look back.  He grabbed the rope handle on the side of his box and swung it onto
his shoulder.  Tucked behind the crate, her hat lay pressed against the wall. 
Apparently, her covering wasn’t important to her.  Gray scooped the garment up
and glanced toward the store.  It wouldn’t be long before she would know that
feeling on a more personal level.  Everyone has to walk out the consequences of
their actions.  He hoped she was prepared for the road that lay ahead of her. 
His carriage waited to return him to his.

Chapter 2

Katherine
Bailey’s bare feet pounded the ground in uneven rhythms.  Thorns and briars
tugged at her nightdress, snatching at bits and pieces of flannel.  She puffed
short quick breaths of air, and pushed herself deeper into the thicket.  She
didn’t have much of a head start.  Reece had only been dazed when she escaped. 
Grabbing the handiest item in the bedroom, she had swung the weighty bed warmer
with a two-fisted grip.  Hot with coals, the metal pan had sprayed the room
with embers, emptying fully when it clanged against his head.  The wood floors
would most likely be scarred, but shouldn’t burn.  She hoped Reece would carry
a similar reminder of her determination to leave his presence.

Dogs barked in
the distance, and hoof beats thundered close behind the growling mongrels. 
Loud curses filled the air.  Reece was closing in.  She spied a small opening
in the nearby thicket and ducked into the copse.  Hurrying away from the
clearing, she dodged vines and trees.  Her pulse thumped in her ears and
drowned out the memory of her beating.  At least that was one thing she could
be thankful for. 

She slowed
long enough to gain her bearings and focused on an overgrown bush.  The dense
foliage would conceal her body, but it would also prevent a speedy exit.  To
her right, a small cave seemed to offer a place to rest and hide.  Her body
begged for her to consider the second choice.  Opting for the cavern, she
scrambled over a downed log, hurried into the secluded interior, and flattened
herself against the stone wall.  She closed her eyes and inhaled long, slow
breaths.  Hidden from sight, she should be able to hear if anyone drew near the
opening.  Fresh air blended with a sour odor, and she rubbed her nose to fend
off the offensive smell.  Something in this cave needed a good airing, but
hopefully the stench would prevent the dogs from locating her. 

She pulled her
ripped bodice back up on her shoulder and eased her eyes open.  The vision in
her right eye appeared hooded.  She lifted her hand and delicately touched a
finger to her brow.  The swelling was worsening.  The lid would be closed shut
before daybreak.  Dropping her chin to her chest, she sank to the floor.  Two
and a half days ago, she had come ashore, full of hopes and dreams and now, she
hid in a cave and feared for her life.  She ran a hand through her hair, her
fingers catching at her forehead.  A wet stickiness oozed between the tips, and
she pressed the heel of her hand against her scalp.  Blood trickled down her
arm. 

When Reece had
entered her bedroom uninvited, she hadn’t seen the riding crop.  Of course, to
wake from a sound sleep with a man straddled across her waist had been enough
of a shock.  Maybe it was naive of her to think he wouldn’t be armed.  Not sure
how she had accomplished it, she had wrestled her way out from under him and
lunged for the door.  Caught short by a sharp blow between her shoulder blades,
she had pitched forward, falling against the frame.  At some point, she must
have turned to face him.  His features had contorted into crazed lines, and he
raised his hands.  She flinched as a vague recollection of the marbled-tipped
riding crop struck her hairline.  It was easy to not recognize a new pain when
all of the previous ones hurt so badly.  Her back and shoulders had bore the
brunt of the initial attack, and the welts, which she knew were there, burned
like thunder.

She shook her
head, and tears spilled down her cheeks.  Common sense had warned her not to
board the ship in England, but the church bishop had assured her that the
arrangement was completely respectable.  He promised her a good life in
Virginia and then pointed out that a woman with no family or money had very few
options.  Her passage had been secured before she could reconsider the offer. 
By the time she arrived in Hampton, she had convinced herself that she could
learn to care for a man who provided for her well being.  She glimpsed her
hands, covered in her own blood, and laughed.  Someone forgot to share this
part of the bargain with Mr. Mullins.

Her tears fell
harder, and her left arm tingled.  She didn’t dare check to see if it was
broken.  She needed for her body to stay as whole as possible.  Once safe, she
could inventory the seriousness of her wounds.  Two and a half days was long
enough to know that Reece Mullins had no desire to marry as he indicated in his
agreement, or to be concerned for her well being. 

Numbness
radiated upward from her fingertips, and she pulled her hand up for a quick
inspection.  A blue line banded her wrist.  She flexed her fingers to keep the
blood flowing through them.  If she planned to find help, she had to end her
respite while she could still travel.  She edged closer to the mouth of the
cave, tilted her head, and listened for Reece.  Rustling leaves were the only
audible sounds.  

She would find
a place in town where she could hide until her wounds healed.  She hoped she
was headed in the right direction.  When she recovered, she could work as a
maid to pay for passage back to…back to where?  There was nothing for her in
England.  Vision in her right eye dimmed and she touched the surrounding
tissue.  It was just as she thought.  It was swollen shut.  She balled her fist
and banged it against the rock wall.  The bishop was wrong.  There was nothing
for her here.  She slumped to the cave floor and lolled her head backward. 
Maybe it would be best if she lie on the ground and let her wounds overcome
her.  Wild animals could decide her fate.  That would be a better decision than
allowing Reece Mullins to do it.

A horse
snorted and dogs whined in the distance.  Although Reece wasn’t a wild animal,
he was equally dangerous.  She pulled herself to her feet and winced.  Her heel
had caught the porch edge on her way out of the house, and her ankle wouldn’t
be able to support her weight much longer.  She leaned against the cave wall
and lifted her leg to rest on a flattened rock.  Numb, she could barely wiggle
her toes.  She slipped the limb back to the ground and touched her hand to her
forehead.  It was impossible to think she could outrun Reece in her condition. 
If she waited for him to pass by, he would have her pinned between himself and
his house.  There would be no escape then.  Regardless of her pain, she had to
continue on the same path. 

She inched her
way into the opening of her hiding place and stepped from the cave.  Moonlight
spotted the ground, revealing several paths throughout the dense forest.  Thick
with moss and leaves, one trail stood apart from the others.  The soft covering
would hide the sounds of her footsteps.  She retraced her steps over the log
and hurried toward the carpeted trail.  Low branches swung against her face,
and she held her hand up to protect her eye. 

She limped
along, favoring her right leg, but pressed onward.  If she had to crawl to stay
away from him, she would not let Reece take her back to his house and treat her
as a soiled woman.  Light bounced off the trees in front of her, encouraging
her in her decision.  Gaining momentum, she neared the edge of the thicket and
clung to a young poplar tree for support.  Looking out, she contemplated her
next step. 

A wide
clearing opened in front of her, and she focused on the two-story, clapboard
house at the center of the meadow.  Her heart beat faster and she giggled
nervously.  A protective sanctuary was a painful sprint away. 
Please let
someone be home.
  She wiped her hand across her good eye and looked again. 
After what she had endured over the last several hours, she didn’t want to
attach her hopes on an illusion.  A fresh energy rushed over her, and she
pulled her throbbing leg in front of her.  Her ankle bone was barely visible. 
The limb had no choice.  Her decision was set.  She would rather be left lame
than be made a whore.

Twigs broke
and swished behind her.  Reece had most likely entered the thicket.  Although
wide in sections, the path entry was narrow.  His horse would not leave
unscathed.  Willing to wound his stallion, he would undoubtedly add the
animal’s injuries to Katherine’s punishment.  He cursed loudly indicating the
depth of her reprimand.

Katherine
estimated the distance from the thicket to the house.  Reece had followed her
through a congested copse.  An open meadow would only expedite her capture.  A
soft light glowed at the back of the dwelling and ignited a glimmer of hope in
her.  Her body surged with a rejuvenated energy.  Surely the occupants would
hear her if she screamed and then come to investigate.  Even if they found her,
there was no certainty they would protect her.  She had to take the chance. 
The dogs’ barks grew closer.  Reece had to be right behind. 

A shadow
stepped onto the back porch of the house, and Katherine launched herself
forward as though responding to a sharp whistle.  Vulnerable in the open field,
she rushed toward the stranger, limping as she ran.  In her current state,
surely someone would take pity on her and prevent Reece from taking her back to
his home.  The figure moved away from the rail and returned to the side of the
house.  Katherine’s heart plummeted.  Although not close enough to the building
to be seen, she was committed to her current course of action.  She didn’t dare
cry out.  At this distance, Reece would be the only one to hear her.  She ran
harder, working her injured leg like a club.  A horse snorted behind her and
she cast a quick glance over her shoulder.  A dark silhouette sat atop a black
beast, seeming to enjoy her efforts.  He shouted a command to his charging
hounds and they obediently heeled.  Like a lion stalking a wounded gazelle, the
rider would wear down his prey until there was no fight left in her and then
drag her back to his deathly lair.

Fresh tears
streamed down her face.  Under her feet, grassy soil changed to sharp gravel,
and hard thud’s pounded behind her.  She reached her arm toward the house and
opened her mouth to scream.  A loud, shrill cry startled her.  Her voice
sounded more desperate than she imagined.  Tall and broad, the shadow returned
to the porch.  He had to see her.  Flat stones supported her last few steps.  Stumbling
onto the wooden stairway, she collapsed on the rise.  She pushed up on one
elbow and strained to crawl up the incline. 

Someone knelt
before her, and she lifted her gaze.  She pulled her head back, recognizing
something familiar about the man.  He stood and moved away from her.  Loud sobs
shook her shoulders against the edge of the wood.   She worked her hand, trying
to reach him.  “Help me, please,” she cried out in desperation.  Above her
head, the sound of a rifle barrel split the night.  She jerked and turned her
face toward the forest.  Looking through dirty strands of hair, she watched as
horse and rider returned to the tree line.  Two, strong hands rolled her to her
back and lifted her body against a hard chest.  A steady heartbeat thumped
under her ear. 

“You’re safe
now,” her rescuer whispered. 

She cried into
his shirt.  There was something in his voice, something about the way he tried
to assure her that gave her comfort and made her believe his words.