Touching the Sky (27 page)

“If they do,” Malcolm replied without emotion, “it’ll come at the cost of your life.”

Brandon waited in the darkness with Tyler and two other soldiers. They’d sent the others ahead a ways to hide additional teams of four all along the road to town. He knew they would have to let Lowe make the next move, but it was hard to wait. The man was an animal, and he would kill Laura and her sister with very little provocation.

“It’s been nearly fifteen minutes,” Tyler said, using a match to check his watch. There wasn’t so much as another sound except for the distant wash of waves upon the shoreline.

Brandon had a bad feeling about all of this. When twenty minutes passed, he felt they’d been had. Getting on his feet, he decided to leave his horse and make it on foot back to the shack.

“If we go by way of the beach,” he told Tyler, “we can sneak in from behind.”

“I’m with you.”

Brandon turned to the two soldiers. “Go find the others and make your way back on the double-quick. Stay in the shadows and keep hidden. Don’t let them know you’ve returned. They have to be there—there’s no other way in or out.”

“Except for the water, sir,” the younger of the two soldiers interjected.

Dread washed over him. The idea of Lowe and his men leaving by sea had never entered Brandon’s mind. What a fool he’d been!

He didn’t wait any longer but headed for the beach at a dead run. If the man was right, Malcolm had already had twenty minutes to make his escape.

T
his time not only were Laura’s hands bound, but her ankles and knees, as well. Her captor—the same man who’d carried her from the wagon—now dumped her without care into a small boat. Laura fell hard and barely kept her head from smashing against the wood. She muffled a cry of pain and hurried to scoot away from the man. It was next to impossible, however. She really could do very little but wriggle, and that wasn’t getting her anywhere very fast. The man only laughed at her efforts, further aggravating Laura. She supposed the same was being done to her sister, but because of the darkness she couldn’t tell.

“You must be a grief to your mother,” Laura told the man as he yanked her into place.

“My mother is dead,” he replied in a growl. “Now shut up.”

Two men climbed into the boat with her, while another two pushed the small launch into the water. The two men near her took up oars while the man who had tied her climbed in just as the boat slipped into deeper water. Laura wanted to call out to Carissa but feared what might happen if she did. Malcolm was in no mood for discussion, and he might hurt Carissa if she tried to answer Laura’s inquiries.

Praying came hard. Usually in times of need, Laura had found talking to God to be the easiest thing in the world, but just now her tongue seemed tied. They were being taken away from Corpus Christi. Brandon would surely follow, but would he come in time?

I don’t know why this is happening, God. Don’t you see? Don’t you care? We need your help.
Laura closed her eyes and tried to still her spirit. Her questions wouldn’t resolve anything.
Lord, I don’t understand, but I’m trying hard to trust you. Please give me courage.

“Halt!”

Laura heard the voice and knew it was Brandon calling from the shore. She couldn’t see him, but his presence made her smile. Malcolm seemed less delighted.

“I thought I told you I’d shoot these women if you didn’t leave,” Malcolm yelled back.

“I made the mistake of thinking you were a gentleman,” Brandon replied. “Instead, I find I’m dealing with a coward who hides behind the skirts of women.”

“I’ll hide wherever it serves my purpose.” Malcolm laughed. “And you know full well I’m no coward.”

“Then return the women. We’ll let you be on your way if you’ll set Laura and her sister free.”

“You hold no power now, Mr. Reid. On land you may have had half the army at your command. But here on the water, I feel quite comfortable. Farewell.”

Laura heard him order the men to double their efforts and pick up the pace of rowing. She felt a moment of despair and tried to loosen the ropes on her wrists. Her skin burned painfully as she fought the binding. It was no use. She wasn’t strong enough to budge the hemp.

She stopped as she caught the sound of Carissa crying. It pained her so much to know her sister was suffering at the hands of that madman. She wanted to scream at him to leave Carissa alone but knew it would do no good.

Dear Lord, please intercede on our behalf. We have no hope but that which is in you.
She prayed this over and over, taking comfort in the words.
Our hope is in God,
she reminded herself.
God never fails.

A sound caught her attention. The disturbance obviously drew the attention of the men, as well. “What’s that?” one of them called out.

“Sounds like a steamer,” someone answered.

Laura strained her eyes to see in the moonlit waters. Around the bend she saw a dark form rise like a beast from the waters. Lights along the rails could soon be seen. The small ship advanced much faster than the men could row, and to Laura’s surprise was upon them before they knew it.

Malcolm was cursing a stream of obscenities when the ship’s captain called down. “This is Captain Clairmont of the United States Navy. You will return to shore immediately or be fired upon.”

“We have hostages,” Malcolm returned. “Two women. We won’t be forced to shore, and if you try, I’ll throw them overboard one at a time. Starting with this one.”

Laura could make out her sister’s form in the boat some ten feet away. Malcolm lifted her in his arms. “What’s it to be?” he called out.

“You have no hope of escape, Mr. Lowe. We will block your way for as long as needed.”

Fear for Carissa overtook any fear Laura might have felt for herself. Carissa couldn’t swim—even if her hands and feet had been unbound. Not only that, but the water would be terribly cold—nothing like the tepid warmth of summer.

“Looks like you’re gonna go swimmin’,” one of the men said, taking a firm hold on Laura’s arm. He laughed and pressed his face to her neck. “Pity too, you smell so sweet and all.”

Laura jerked away, but he held her fast and laughed again. “You ain’t gonna go nowhere until I say so.”

“This is your final warning,” the captain called again. “Return to shore and surrender to the troops there.”

By now, Laura could see some lantern light coming from the shore. They were probably no more than ten yards away and the forms of men were taking shape.

Malcolm seemed uncertain what to do. Laura could hear his men questioning him, asking for directions . . . but he remained silent. Without warning, he stood in the boat. “You want the women—you can have them.”

Then she heard a splash and Laura screamed as her sister sank in the black water. A shot was fired and then another. Laura’s captor took hold of her and threw her overboard without warning. The first shock of cold water took her breath, and then the heavy hold of the sea began to drag her downward. Laura fought with all of her might to reach the surface. By doing a strange little waving kick of her legs, she was able to come to the surface momentarily, but then the water again dragged her downward.

She heard the shots being fired and knew the men were battling for their lives. No one would have time or the ability to rescue her and Carissa. Reasoning left her and despair permeated her soul. She was to die. Die in the black waters of the Gulf—never to be seen again. Once more she fought to wriggle her way to the surface and barely broke the water for a breath. Her efforts were futile, however. She couldn’t fight the pull of the water.

The last bits of air escaped her lungs, and Laura fought to hold her breath. She felt the black cold hand of death tighten its grip around her. She thought of her family and of Brandon. If she were to die, it would be with his image fixed in her memory.

Something pulled at her hair. She felt the persistent tugging even as she drew in a mouthful of water. Someone had come to rescue her—but it was too late.

Laura opened her eyes briefly, certain she’d be staring into the face of God, but instead she found herself facedown on the shore—the taste of sand in her mouth. Someone was pressing hard against her back and she was coughing and sputtering as if she’d never get the water out of her lungs. She began to shiver, shaking so hard that her teeth chattered between the coughing spells.

Without any gentleness, she was rolled to her back and lifted into strong arms. “Laura! Laura, don’t you die on me,” Brandon was demanding.

She smiled and closed her eyes. “Wouldn’t think of it,” she murmured.

When next she opened her eyes, Laura found herself in her own bed. She frowned for a moment and wondered at the horrible images of guns, black powder, and water. So much water. Had it been a dream?

She rose slightly, surprised that two lamps burned full on the bedside tables. A man knelt beside the fireplace and stoked the fire with a poker. Rubbing her eyes, Laura shook her head. What had happened? The events of the night came back in a rush. Malcolm had taken her and Carissa hostage. She tensed as the man rose from the hearth and turned.

“You’re finally awake,” Brandon said, the relief in his tone evident.

Laura looked at him in confusion. “What happened?”

“You very nearly drowned.” His expression still held a look of worry. “How do you feel?”

She fell back against the pillow. “Weak. Tired—more tired than I’ve ever felt before.”

“Nearly dying will do that, I’ve heard.” He sat on the chair beside her bed and took hold of her hand. “The doctor believes you’ll make a full recovery, although there is some concern of pneumonia.”

Laura closed her eyes, unable to resist the pull of her weariness. Then an image of Carissa came to mind. She tried to sit up, but Brandon put his hands on her shoulders.

“Just rest,” he commanded.

“But my sister . . . Carissa,” Laura demanded. “Where . . . what happened to her?”

Brandon pushed her back against the pillows. “She is fine. Tyler got to her in time. Your mother is passing back and forth between your two rooms. I had to fight quite fiercely to be allowed to remain here with you. However, I finally convinced your father.”

“He’s usually very reasonable,” Laura said, finally allowing herself to relax a bit. If Carissa was safe—that was all that mattered.

“Especially since I asked him if I might have your hand in marriage.”

Her eyes widened and the fog in her head seemed to clear just a bit. “You . . . asked . . . him . . .” She fell silent and Brandon chuckled.

“I did. And better still, he said yes.” Then his voice became husky. “But before I can marry you, Laura, I need to know that you won’t be inclined to any more foolish acts. You went to your sister’s house after I specifically told you not to.” Brandon reached out and tenderly touched her cheek. “When I thought you might not live, it very nearly killed me. I don’t want to lose you, Laura.”

She pressed her hand against her cheek. “I know. I was foolish,” she finally admitted. “We should have waited for you or for someone to come with us or go in our stead. I’m sorry.”

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “And it won’t ever happen again, right?”

“What? Putting my life at risk?” Laura questioned. “Because if that’s what you’re asking, I cannot agree.”

Brandon pulled back. “And why not?”

“Because, my dear man, life is a risk. How can I marry and give you children without risking my life? How can I endure the sicknesses and needs of those children without some risk being involved?”

He let go a heavy sigh. “I know you’re right, but I only want to keep you from harm. I love you more than life, Laura, and when I thought I might lose you—I couldn’t bear it. I want to marry you and grow old with you. I want to know the pleasure we’ll share as husband and wife, and to raise a family of our own.”

“Then you’d do well to ask me,” she said matter-of-factly.

He laughed and let go his hold on her. Getting to one knee beside the bed, Brandon reached up and took hold of her hand. “Will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

She felt tears threaten, but smiled anyway. “I will.”

Brandon got to his feet and leaned down to take her in his arms. Lifting her, bedcovers and all, he whirled her in a circle, then pulled her even closer and kissed her with great passion.

It was a little like drowning all over again, Laura thought for a moment. Just as frightening in some ways, but far more pleasurable.

The next day, Laura didn’t awake until well into the afternoon. Finding herself alone, she got up and donned her robe before making her way to Carissa’s room. She found her sister sitting by the window in her nightgown, staring through the glass.

“Carissa?” She didn’t so much as blink, and so Laura touched her shoulder. “Carissa.”

Her sister looked up and shook her head. “Malcolm is dead.”

“Brandon told me. I am sorry. Sorry mostly that he turned out to be the kind of man he was. Sorry, too, that you have to bear this.”

“The doctor said only time will tell if the stress of this ordeal causes me to miscarry,” Carissa replied, putting her hand to her stomach. “For now, the baby lives—or so he believes.”

Reaching for the ottoman, Laura pulled it alongside her sister’s chair and sat. “I hope that brings you some comfort. You’ve already been through so much . . . but know that I’ll always be here for you. Even when I marry.”

Carissa looked at her oddly. “So he has finally asked?”

Laura smiled. “He did, and I said yes.”

Her sister nodded. “I’m glad. I want that for you. Brandon is a good man and has proven himself over and over. Malcolm was nothing but bad.”