by Linda Ladd
Ducking down a path to a dark spot, she nearly fainted when she heard the Hacketts still very close to Peeto's hiding place. As she reached the high outside wall, she cried out, hoping to draw them away from Peeto, then felt her way along the front of the oven crypts. Her fingers moved along the bricks and hinged doors, groping for a foothold or crevice to use to scale the wall. She sank to her knees in terror as Jack Hackett suddenly appeared around the front of an ornate grave topped with double copper urns. To her horror, a lantern now swung from his hand, and she pressed herself back into the shadows, away from the flickering light. He stopped, looking around, and Bethany held her breath. Then, he suddenly thrust the lamp in her direction, illuminating her where she crouched close to the ground.
"Now whatcha gonna do, gal?" he cried with an evil sneer, guffawing harshly as Bethany fled in panic in the opposite direction.
A turn in the wall took her into the safety of darkness again, and when her searching palms found a door with a broken hinge, she fumbled desperately with the bolt, trying to open it. When it finally gave way, she crawled inside, desperate for any sanctuary from her pursuer. As Jack Hackett's taunting yell sounded just behind her, Bethany scrambled deeper into the oven. As the lantern glow appeared outside the door, she sat very still on her hands and knees, her chest heaving, and it took a moment to recognize the sickening-sweet odor of rotting flesh. She gagged, realizing that it was on a crumbling casket that she knelt. Horrified at the idea of being enclosed with a decaying corpse, she began to claw her way out of the oven crypt, despite the threat that awaited her in the fresh air.
"Not so fast, missy," came Jack's voice. Bethany began to scream as he blocked her exit from the oven tomb with his burly forearm.
"So, ye picked yer own grave to save me the trouble," he cackled cruelly, lifting the hinged iron door that covered the opening. "I don't even need to waste me bullets, now does I?"
As the heavy iron door clanged shut, enveloping her in pitch blackness, Bethany screamed in absolute horror. She screamed and screamed, her body rigid with terror and the horrible smell of death, her own hysterical shrieks reverberating in her ears in the cramped echo chamber in which she was imprisoned.
It was Bethany's muffled screams that led Luke to her. As he rounded a corner deep in the cemetery, Jack Hackett loomed up in front of him, a lantern swinging in his hand. Luke didn't hesitate. He fired, and a black-edged hole appeared between the outlaw's eyes, freezing his cruel, leering smile into a mask of death.
Luke forgot about Hackett even before he fell, and began frantically searching the high vaults around him for Bethany and Peeto. He came to an abrupt stop as a gun barrel jabbed viciously into his back.
"You done kilt my brother and now I'm gonna kill you," came Braid's grunted threat through his misshapen jaw. Luke whipped to one side, going for Braid's pistol as a shrill Sioux yell ripped through the air and Peeto hurtled himself off the crypt where he had crept unnoticed, drawn by Bethany's cries. Braid turned and fired, and Peeto fell hard as metal ripped through his arm, spreading white-hot agony with it.
Luke was on Braid in an instant, his knees pinning the outlaw's chest to the ground as he drove his fist into Braid's face with all his strength. He brought his fist down again and again as all the anger, frustration, and hatred he felt came gushing out in blind rage.
Braid lay still in death before Peeto's cry of pain cut through Luke's bloodlust. He sat back on his heels, his chest heaving as he crawled to Peeto and lifted the boy against him.
Peeto struggled to free himself, clutching his bleeding arm with one hand as he pointed to the nearby ovens. "They put Beth in one of the ovens! I heard them! You've got to get her out!"
Shouting voices sounded at the front gates, and Luke yelled for Andrew as he ran along the wall, his heart growing cold when he heard Bethany's faint screams somewhere in the endless tiers of oven crypts that stretched along the outer walls.
"Beth! Beth! Where are you?" he called in hopeless horror, trying to pinpoint her muffled cries. In the darkness, it was impossible to find the right crypt, and as her cries suddenly died away, he went into an absolute panic, forcing the locks on one door after another, down the long line, iron hinges squeaking and clanging in the night as he broke open graves that had been bolted for decades and others that still reeked of death.
Then, Bethany cried out again, very close, and he pulled open the door to release her horrible screams of terror. He felt inside for her, his fingers touching the velvet of her dress. He pulled her into his arms, crying her name over and over as he clamped her against him.
"I've got you, I've got you! Listen to me, Beth!"
Her shrill cries finally quieted, her stiff limbs suddenly going limp against him as she sobbed into his chest. Luke picked her up and carried her through the darkness to where several men with torches were bending over Peeto.
"Is Beth all right?" Andrew asked in concern as Luke stepped into the glow of the fires.
"The bastard locked her in one of the ovens," he said, his own words hoarse with rage. "Is Pete all right?"
"It's just a flesh wound, but Hugh's in real bad shape. They've already taken him to Charity Hospital."
Luke knelt beside Peeto, still holding Bethany in his arms. "She's going to be all right, Pete, and so are you. The Hacketts are dead now. They'll never hurt us again."
He pulled Peeto up, holding both his wife and son tight as they clung to him, weeping out their terror and fear.
Epilogue
Cantigny Plantation
February 1812
Bethany's eyes fluttered open as an infant's thin wail awakened her. She sat up at once in bed. Luke was no longer beside her, but she immediately found him across the room beside the cradles. She smiled as he reached down to pick up one of their four-month-old twin daughters, then drew on her quilted robe and left the warm covers.
"Sssh, little one," Luke was crooning softly as Bethany joined him. She shook her head in wonder, still amazed by what a wonderful father Luke had become, not only to the twins, but to Peeto as well. Even the children out at the Mill Home received a good-sized dose of his warmth and generosity. As it turned out, Luke loved children as much as she did.
"Is it Tara or Shanna?" she whispered mischievously, knowing he found it hard to tell the identical twins apart.
"Shanna, I think," he answered, sitting down in the rocker near the fire. He lay the baby on his lap, smiling down into her cherubic face as she held tightly to two of his fingers and made happy, gurgling sounds.
A moment later, Tara decided she needed some attention, too, and Bethany tenderly lifted her other daughter in her arms, kissing her downy blond hair.
"Yes, my little love, Mama's here," she whispered, sitting down in a second rocker across from Luke.
The chairs in front of the hearth creaked in tandem in the quiet hours of early morning, and Luke and Bethany smiled across at each other.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?" he said with pride. "They look more like you every day with their blond hair and gray eyes." He chuckled. "I've never seen Pete so crazy about anybody in his life. He's like a little mother hen to them, and Raffy's just as bad."
Bethany laughed softly. "I know. Sometimes they get a little carried away with rocking the cradles, though. I'm sure Tara and Shanna must feel at times as if they're in a runaway carriage."
Luke laughed and soon both babies slept peacefully. Their proud parents laid them gently back into their beds and returned hand in hand to their own big four-poster. Snuggling beneath the downy comforter, Bethany sighed in contentment.
"I really miss Michelle and Hugh," she murmured. "Do you think they've reached St. Louis yet?"
"Probably. I suspect we'll receive a nice long letter from them soon," Luke replied, kissing her temple.
"I hope so, Luke. I'm so glad they're married and happy now. It would have been so awful if Hugh had died when-"
Bethany could not finish, and a shudder racked her body.
> Luke knew well that she was remembering that long ago night in the cemetery. "Don't think about it, love. It's long over now. Hugh and Michelle are happy and safe, and they've certainly got their hands full now that they've adopted the McCaffreys."
"I miss those feisty little redheads, even with all the other children we've taken in," Bethany said. "But, Hugh and Michelle intend to have their own baby soon. Michelle told me she wants as many children as I do."
"I didn't think anyone wanted as many children as you do," Luke murmured with a smile. "And if you continue to give me babies with the ease that you had the twins, we'll have our twenty before we know it."
"You have a little to do with that, you know," Bethany reminded him.
"More than a little," he agreed, his mouth tasting hers. "Perhaps, we should think about doing something to fill up a few more bedrooms here at Cantigny."
"Oh, yes, let's," Bethany agreed, before his lips stopped her words and thoughts. She closed her eyes, weaving her fingers through his black hair, and knew that Luke's Indians had been right to tell their lovely legend of the dreamsong. Luke was hers, as she was his, and the gift the gods had given them was more precious than life itself.
Author Biography
Since she was a little girl, Linda Ladd has always been a romantic-loving nothing more than to lose herself completely in the far-away times and places of great novelists such as Jane Austen, Margaret Mitchell, and the Bronte sisters. Little did she dream that someday she would be transporting legions of her own fans into exciting love stories where darkly handsome heroes swept away beautiful, high-spirited heroines. Her novels have been enjoyed by millions since her first historical romance, WILDSTAR, hit the shelves in 1984. Since then she has penned 14 best-selling historical novels, which have been acclaimed by readers and booksellers alike. An award-winning author with a loyal following all over the world, Ms. Ladd resides in Missouri with her husband.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1988 by Linda Ladd
Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media
ISBN 978-1-4976-1609-7
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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New York, NY 10014
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LINDA LADD
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