The Willows (23 page)

So she stayed where she was,
frozen by indecision, trying to figure out what Michael meant to
do. Spite kissing him more than she should, she knew little about
the man he’d become, other than what Lance had told her, and of
course, her initial impression of him that day on the docks.
Dangerous.
She’d thought
then, as he’d given her no clue to revise her opinion. The way he’d
appeared out of nowhere, on ominous manner in which his boat had
been waiting, would suggest Lance was right, that Michael had been
lying in wait. They he’d watched her, stocked her, and then drag
her off with pitiful ease.

I am a relentless
Hunter
, he’d once told her.
I will not give up until I have what is owed
me
. And now, too late, she believed
him.

It was his other strength – both
physically and mental – that had shocked her in silent. Michael
could have been wearing a plate of armor, for all that effect of
her threats and blows. Unaccustomed to the feeling so helpless, she
was left with a growing panic, and the knowledge that if you wish
to hurt her, there was nothing – absolutely nothing – she could do
to stop him.

Considering the way he had found her,
perhaps it was not so much a case of its, but rather when she would
be hurt.

If only she had listened to Lance. But
no, spoiled and willful, she had to sneak out of the house, go
charging off to the middle of nowhere, until now nobody knew where
she had gone. The horse no doubt had already wandered back to the
stable, so who would even think to look for her in the bayou? Her
family knew she hated the area, that she had avoided it’s all her
life. When they started their search, they would begin at the
neighboring plantations and worked their way down river to New
Orleans. By the time they realized that Avenue was fruitless, Gwen
would be dead.

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to
consider the possibility. After all, what better place to dispose
of the body that in some deep mysterious hole in the swamp? No one
would find her, or even come close looking. The way she behaved in
the past, they’d naturally assumed she’d just up and run
away.

She tried to slow her panic. Surely she
was overreacting. Michael’s revenge would hardly require a murder.
In what other reason could he possibly have to kill her?

His kind don’t need a
reason
, she could almost hear Lance say, as
he repeated the list of his crimes.
Men
like that kill for sheer pleasure.

As if to give in to her fear, there was
a distant, roll of thunder. Michael muttered “dammit” under his
breath, he felt them pick up speed. In her mind, she could picture
his dark features, fierce with concentration, as he silently drove
his way through the eerily quiet marshland, working to reach their
destination before it rained.

Don’t worry on my account, she thought,
giddy with fear, even as the boat went even faster. Killing her was
bad enough, but must he be in such a hurry?

Her life passed before her, the pace
accelerating with the boat. She saw her father, and mother, and
Lance. How wrong of her to doubt him, to kiss and flirt with other
men. Please save me, she cried out in her mind, but she failed to
see how anyone could halt the building momentum before the
inevitable crash. She struggled for air, yet found it hard to draw
a breath, knowing each could well be her last.

Just when she could there spence no
longer, and she was ready to die just to get it over with, the boat
slowed and came to a halt. “All right, my lady,” Michael said
quietly. “We are here.”

The boat rocked as she felt him move.
When his hand came out of nowhere to tug on her blindfold, she
whimpered. He did not bother to untie it, but rather pulled the
knot up over her head. Dawn had begun to break, she had time to
notice, before her gaze came to rest on his hands.

They held a knife.

“
No,” she whimpered again,
finding she wasn’t ready to die after all.

Ignoring her protests, he reached down
and sliced through the rope around her wrist.

Giddy with relief that he had not
killed her, Gwen offered no resistance when Michael helped her out
of the raft and onto dry land. Well, not exactly dry, for she found
herself standing in an inch of mud as he busied himself securing
the boat. Looking about her, happy to be alive, she took in her
surroundings.

They were most definitely in the swamp,
she thought, not liking how the Bayou wound off into dark shadows
in both directions. Large trees trait with moss lines the opposite
shore some ten yards away. There are an opening in their entwined
branches, she could see the gray sky, lit by a single bolt of
lightning. She jumped as a clap of thunder warned of the storms
arrival.

“
Come on, we best beginning
up to the house,” Michael said, hoisting a bundle out over the
boat.

“
What a thoughtful
kidnapper, bringing me to your home,” Gwen said, still giddy. “Am I
to be lavishly entertained?”

He sniffed. “Whether or not you are
entertained is up to you. That,” he said, nodding behind him, “is
the only reason I have brought you.”

She turned to face a weather-beaten
house on a hill ahead. “That shack is your home?”

“
It is not a shack,” he
snapped. “It’s a cabin. And I was not talking about it. I meant
them.”

Following his nod, she saw a series of
boys, each a half head taller than one after another. Lining the
cabins porch. “I know those boys,” she thought aloud, though it
took a few moments to recall how. “They are… Why yes, look, they
are the brats from the docks.”

He looked momentarily confused, then
none too pleased. “I had forgotten you had already met. A word of
caution, though. I would not suggest calling them brats to their
faces.”

Something snapped inside her, most
likely her nerves. “I should have known. That is why you defended
them–you were in league together. He probably planned to kidnap me
from the beginning.”

“
So it starts.” Shaking his
head, he turned up the twenty yard path to the shack.

“
Do not walk away from me.”
Hands on hips, she forgot her fear that he meant kill her. “I
demand you take me home to my family. Do you hear?”

“
We are your family now, my
lady,” he tossed her over his shoulder. “Or did you forget that you
married me on your own free will?”

“
You cheated me into that
marriage. And I would rather be dead than related to you and
those...” She hesitated, considering, then plunged right in, “…
Those brats.”

He turned to face her with a scowl.
Gwen tensed, but all he said was, “let’s continue this up in the
cabin. Standing here arguing much longer, and you are liable to get
drenched.”

Continuing on it to the cabin, Gwen
stood sputtering until there was another clap of thunder, so near
she felt the electricity sizzle in the air around here. She
ran.

The clouds broke open, drenching her
before she could reach the porch. Michael, she noticed resentfully,
manage to reach shelter in time. He herded the children before him
into the cabin.

Finding herself on the porch alone,
Gwen told herself this was just how she wanted it. She would never
go inside, she swore. But even as she thought this, a gust blew
rain onto the porch, soaking her more. Sputtering, she decided to
go in until it stopped raining.

Six faces stared at her as she pushed
open the door, their expressions surprise, then swiftly scornful.
Returning their attention to each other, they acted as if she
wasn’t in the room.

It wasn’t much of a room, she decided,
with a sniff. Michael and the children sat to the left around a
table with a single candle in the center. The cup for around them
led her to assume that this area must be the kitchen, though how
anyone could cook in that small fireplace, she could not imagine.
Directly ahead, second doorway led into a dark corridor, no doubt
the bedroom area, and to the right was a sitting area of sorts.
Where those shows with books? My heavens, a literate kidnapper. She
must count herself lucky indeed.

“
What is she doing here?”
Taller boy was asking. It was more than his jet black hair,
sculpted features that reminded her of the younger Michael; both
had the same bluntness.

“
Watch what you say,”
Michael cautioned. “I have brought her here to take care of
you.”

There was a collective gasp; the
children as appalled as Gwen. She could find nothing in there
sullen, unfriendly faces to imply welcome, nor the slightest
indication of any need for her help.

“
No” the protested in
unison, followed by “she is mean,” “she hates us,” and the all too
popular, “we don’t want her here.”

“
What makes you think I want
to be here?” She asked, tired of being talked about as if she were
invisible. “I find the whole idea as repulsive as you
do.”

This was followed up I chorus of “I
told you so’s,” which wrapped the silence with the slap on the
table. Coming as it did before another role of thunder, she
couldn’t blame the boys for instantly shutting up. “You have all
been whining that you need a mother,” he told them, his features
stern. “Well, here I have got you wanted, and that will be
that.”

He looked from one angry face to the
other. “Besides, this is not a case of wanting. We all know you
cannot be staying here on your own. Or must I remind you what
happened to the pantry?”

There was a great deal less bravado and
the boys’ attitude as they looked at each other, then back to
Michael. Whatever had happened, the seemed to have guilty enough
consciences to forestall further protest.

Gwen, however, saw no reason to cower
beneath his dark glare. “I cannot see why I must be punished for
their misdeeds. You might as well know, I have no intention of
being anyone’s mother.”

Spared her a fierce look, then turned
his attention back to the children.

“
Go ahead, try to ignore me,
but I’m serious, Michael. You cannot force me to stay here. The
instant you turn your back, I will run away.”

His tone was cold as his expression.
“That is where you are wrong. You are my wife now, and by law, I
can drag you out of any hole in Louisiana, and leave you wherever I
choose.”

“
My uncle is having this
marriage annulled. It is just a matter of time, before I am free of
you.”

He shrugged. “But you are not free yet.
Until that time, might as well make the best of things. Might even
find you like it here.” “Here?” She shuddered, thinking of the
bayou and its various creatures. “You must be joking.”

The children gazed at her with disgust.
“You cannot do this to us,” the one named Jude cried. “You have got
a see that she is awful.”

“
Enough!” Michael hoisted
his bundle up to the table. “Here is some provisions. I hope to be
home sooner, but if not, this should last until Friday.”

As the children groaned, Gwen reacted
with horror. “You are leaving? You expect to leave me here and
leave me alone with these-“she bit her lip. “Theses
children?”

“
Can’t be helped. I have
business that can’t wait.”

“
And what about my business,
the life you had so casually disrupted? Do you realize that if I’m
not back by Friday, there is a very good chance I will Miss Angela
Hamilton’s birthday party? What you are doing to me as unfair,
uncivilized, and absolutely inhuman.”

“
Marriage usually is,” he
said, making his way to the door. Desperate now, Gwen tried
appealing to his common sense. “You might want to reconsider,” she
said, forcing her tone to remain even. “I haven’t the least idea
how to be a mother, much less a wife. These children were never
asked to me as a substitute. Why, the way we get on, we are liable
to murder each other in your absence. What then?”

Reaching the door, he opened it.
Outside, she saw the treacherous rain showed signs of letting up.
There was no justice in this world, Gwen thought resentfully. The
least he deserved was to be drenched.

“
The boys know what I expect
of them,” he said, giving each a departing glare, “which is to see
to it that you are still here when I get back. How you get on with
them is up to you, though I warn you, life-and the swamp–have
taught these children to be hard. Might want to take care how you
address them.”

Was he threatening her? Did he hope she
would be frightened of mere children? Looking at them again, seeing
their hostility, she realized he might have a point.

“
Even so,” he added,
gesturing outside the door, “If I were you, I would not try to go
anywhere. The cabin is surrounded by the swamp land you are so
afraid of, and men more experience than I had become lost in it,
never to be seen again.”

Gwen tried hard not to
shiver.

“
Patrick, “he barked,
nodding at the oldest boy, “go out back and check the hole in the
pantry roof. See how much of the stores are wet. Between the fire
in the rain, Lord knows what we have lost.”