Wanton Splendor

by Bobbi Smith

  "Emil wanted Greenwood back and he was planning to use the threat against you to that end, but then Andre ruined Emill's plan by threatening Katie."

  "How is she? He didn't hurt her, did he?" Rage welled up inside of him.

  "No, she got away. She did manage to get back to the house, but he followed her."

  "All the way to the house?" Christopher was incredulous at the brazen act.

  "He must have known that you were gone," Mark explained. "Anyway, when Joel tried to send him on his way, Andre shot Joel."

  "Joel?" He was instantly alert. "How bad is he?"

  "I'm afraid he's dead."

  Christopher's jaw tightened as he fought down the painful emotions that twisted deep within him.

  "I'll kill the bastard. I swear I will." He looked away from Mark until he had himself more under control. Shaking with anger and furious at his own helplessness, he finally turned back. "And Katie? What happened to her?"

  Mark read his bleak expression and hastened to reassure him.

  "He didn't hurt her. Dee got your gun from the desk and killed him as he was forcing Katie to go inside."

  "Dee killed Andre?"

  Mark nodded. "She's a very brave woman."

  "Well, thank God they're all right." He stopped to think about it. "Where are they now?"

  "I got this note from her yesterday. Evidently, when Emil found out what had happened, he went to Greenwood and threatened them again. He told Katie to sign over the plantation along with Dee or he would turn you in. He gave her a day to make her decision."

  "What did she do?"

  "She and Dee didn't wait to give him an answer, they took the next boat North. According to her letter, they're going to St. Louis to be with our father. Katie figured that they'd be safe there. And she also sent a warning for you to be careful, for she didn't know what Montard would do when he found out that they had gone."

  "I'm glad that she didn't give in to him." Christopher was proud of her actions and he was glad to know that she'd gotten safely away.

  "The way I figure it, once he realized that they had run away, he turned all his information about you over to the patrollers. That must have been when they started hounding me..."

  "I don't doubt it. He's a vicious man. I always knew that he was capable of anything... He and Andre were just alike."

  "Yes, but when the news gets out, the people around here will think he's a hero..."

  Christopher shrugged. "I'll just make sure that they don't see me as I leave. I've made it this far and I don't want to get caught now. Mark could you do me one favor?"

  "Anything."

  "Check on Emil Montard and find out what he's up to. I won't rest easy until I know Katie and Dee are safely out of his reach."

  "I'll see what I can find out."

  Emil stood at the railing of the steamboat's promenade deck, a look of determination on his face. He was glad to be away from Marie's spiteful presence. But in spite of their bitter words, he knew she was right. He had blundered when he'd given Katie a day to make up her mind. He should have forced the issue then and there.

  But, no matter. That was over and done with. He was going after them and he when caught up with Dee, she would pay for shooting his son.

  He dreaded the long days it would take him to reach St. Louis. But Emil knew that the trip would give him time enough to plan what he was going to do once he found them.

  Christopher took no notice of the bright cheerfulness of his room. He was lost in thought... tortuous thought. Joel was dead... Joel who had struggled so valiantly to improve himself... Joel who had died fighting his fight. Christopher slammed his fist into the mattress. If he hadn't insisted on making the trip himself... if he'd let Joel take the slaves to Robert's, he'd still be alive...

  It was almost a relief for him when Mark came in, dragging him away from his guilt-ridden feelings.

  Mark noticed Christopher's dark scowl and wondered how to broach the next subject. He wasn't going to like what he had to tell him.

  "Christopher," he smiled, sitting down next to him. "Any better?" Mark indicated his shoulder.

  "As long as I don't try to move..." he said conver sationally. "Have you found out anything?"

  "I started checking yesterday, but I didn't get the final word until this morning."

  "Well?" Christopher was suddenly impatient.

  "Emil Montard left town shortly after Andre's funeral."

  "Left? Without his wife?"

  "Yes."

  "Where did he go?"

  "He took a boat North... presumably to St. Louis."

  "Oh, no... "Christopher's thoughts were of Katie. "How much of a head start did they have?"

  "Day and a half to two days..."

  "What kind of connections does your father have in St. Louis?"

  "Not much, really. We were out in the camps, mostly."

  "You mean Katie could get there and there would be no one to help her?"

  Mark looked away from Christopher's piercing glare, "It's a possibility."

  "We've got to go. We can't leave her alone to defend herself against the likes of Emil Montard." He threw off the bedclothes and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Hand me my pants!" he barked at Mark.

  "Christopher, wait! You can't get up. ..not yet!"

  "The hell I can't!" pushing off the wall he stood, swaying dizzily. "If you think for one minute I'm going to lie here while my wife is in danger, then you're crazy! Give me my clothes!" he bellowed loudly.

  Cherie, who heard the commotion, rushed into the room, "Christopher! What are you trying to do?"

  "I'm trying to help Katie..." His legs started to buckle and Mark quickly helped him back into bed.

  Cherie came to him, her hands on her hips. "And you think you'll be helping her by killing yourself? Hardly."

  "Cherie, she's in very real danger. I've got to help her."

  "Mark, what is he talking about?" she demanded.

  "Emil Montard followed Katie and Dee upriver..."

  Cherie was not surprised by the disclosure. "Something must be done.. .but what?"

  Christopher closed his eyes, trying to gather strength as Cherie paced the room trying to come up with a solution.

  "All right. This is what we'll do..."

  Katie entered the cabin to find Dee playing on the floor with Jebediah.

  "We should reach town tonight," she informed her happily.

  "Then what do we do? Is your father in town?"

  "I don't know for sure... probably not. But we'll check into a good hotel and then I'll go by the Pacific Railroad office tomorrow morning. They'll be able to tell me where he is and then we'll make our plans from there."

  Dee was still worried about Emil, "Katie, you don't think Mastah Emil will follow us, do you?"

  Katie sat down on the edge of the bunk and looked at Dee seriously. "The truth is, Dee, I have no idea what Emil is likely to do...If he is as crazy as his son, he might, but we've still got a good head start on him. I honestly don't think he'll find us even if he does come looking for us."

  Dee's fears were not relieved by Katie's words.

  "Maybe Ali shouldn't have shot Andre..." Dee agonized.

  "He killed Joel and he was about to hurt us...You know what he would have done to us, don't you?"

  "Ali, know," she replied, her dark expressive eyes filling with tears. "Ali know."

  "Then you also know that you did the only thing possible under the circumstances. Believe me, Dee, if I had had a gun, I would have shot him myself! You were very brave." Katie put her arms around the other woman and hugged her.

  "Do you really think so?"

  "You saved my life and for that I will always be in your debt."

  "But I feel so alone without Joel," she said.

  "I wish there was some way that I could take away your pain, Dee," Katie told her, her feelings for her running deep. "You know how important you and Jebediah are to Christopher and me."

  Dee nodded a
s she tried to bring her shattered emotions under control. Jebediah, who had been playing quietly nearby toddled to his mother and hugged her tightly, babbling in baby talk. Dee looked up at Katie and smiled tremulously.

  "As long as I have my baby, I know I'll be all right."

  Katie looked with tenderness at the sight of mother and child and wished wistfully that she had Christopher's babe to coddle and love.

  When the steamer finally tied up at the St. Louis riverfront, it was almost dark. The mountains of merchandise and the bustle of the levee activity intimidated Dee, but to Katie it was as good as home. Delighted to at last be on familiar ground, she easily took charge, hiring a carriage and supervising the loading of their few bags.

  "Where to ma'am?" the driver asked after he'd helped Katie in and retaken his own seat.

  "To the Planter's House, please," she directed as she sat back to enjoy the sights.

  St. Louis was a thriving river city and Katie always found her visits to the growing metropolis exciting. They reached the hotel in short order and were quickly registered and shown to a large, comfortable room on the second floor.

  Jebediah was tired from all the excitement and fell asleep as soon as they put him down, leaving Katie and Dee with the entire evening to relax and figure out what they were going to do. They ordered dinner in their room and discussed their plans for the next day as they ate.

  "I'll get up early and go to the office. They should be able to tell me where my father is. Then as soon as we know. I'll make arrangements for our transportation."

  "Is it gonna be hard gettin' out to the camp?" Dee worried about a cross-country ride with the child.

  "No, it shouldn't be. We can probably ride the train the better part of the way."

  Dee was relieved to hear that. "Your father won't' mind you bringin' us along, will he?"

  "No. He'll be glad to meet you, I'm sure."

  "Good. Ah didn't want to be in the way."

  "Nonsense, Dee. We've gone through this whole thing together. We're not going to separate now. Don't worry. You'll like my father and I'm positive that he'll like you."

  That resolved, they passed a quiet evening and retired early, exhausted from the pressure of the trip.

  "Are you sure this will work?" Mark asked Cherie doubtfully.

  "It should. The patrollers aren't looking for an old man in a wheelchair." She smiled at Mark. "Don't look so worried. All we have to do is get him up the gangplank and into the cabin. It'll be dark and no one will even notice."

  "Lord, I hope so." Mark was clearly nervous as he looked at Christopher in disguise. "I guess you do look like an old man," he finally admitted.

  "See? I told you so." Cherie bustled about the room getting Christopher's few things packed and ready to go. "How soon does the boat leave?"

  "Ten o'clock." Christopher spoke up from beneath the camouflage of blankets and a shawl.

  "It's half past eight now. We'd better get going. Mark, are you all packed?"

  "Yes. I'll leave now and go on aboard ahead of you. I've got the cabin right next to yours so we should be in good shape."

  "The hardest part will be getting you on board. Once you're safe in your stateroom, you don't come out until St. Louis. You stay in bed the entire trip. Agreed?" Cherie threatened.

  "Agreed," Christopher answered.

  Cherie had agreed to help him go upriver only if he promised to spend the five days of the journey in bed in his cabin. He'd been reluctant to go along with her but he realized that there was no other way. He knew he would never be able to make it on his own. So travelling incognito, with Mark close by in case he needed help, Christopher was at last on his way to find Katie.

  Cherie and her servant helped Christopher into her carriage and they rode to the riverfront quietly, in great fear of being discovered.

  "Mark said that the patrollers haven't been around since yesterday." Cherie tried to cheer him up.

  "Good," Christopher grinned, feeling as old as he looked.

  Cherie had first powdered his hair and used some lamp black to create the illusion of the wrinkles and the sunken cheeks of old age. Then she had handed him a mirror and he'd been hard pressed to believe that the old man reflected there was him. Truly grateful for her ingenuity, he thanked her for her help as they pulled up at the landing.

  "Shush, I'll hear no more of it. We're family, in a way, and a family always takes care of its own."

  Christopher groaned convincingly as he was settled into his wheelchair and Cherie pushed him up the gangplank with the help of her servant. There was only a short, tense moment as they waited to receive directions to the cabin and then they were safely inside the little stateroom.

  They all breathed a deep sigh of relief and then quickly got Christopher out of the chair and into the bunk.

  "By the time I get to St. Louis, I hope I won't have to use that damned contraption!" he complained as he rested back on the bed with a low, protesting moan.

  "Just don't take any chances, Christopher," Cherie told him. "Take care of yourself."

  She came to hold his hand and he lifted hers to his lips.

  "I will. Thanks to you."

  His voice was soft and sincere, reminding her of Isaac many years before and she blinked back sudden stinging tears.

  "Keep in touch," she kissed his cheek, being careful not to get any of his disguise on her. Bidding him goodbye, she left the cabin, stopping only long enough to give the key to Mark before going ashore.

  Christopher had only been alone a few minutes when Mark knocked at his cabin door.

  "It's Mark," he identified himself in low tones as he entered. "How are you feeling?"

  "I must be as bad as the doctor said. I feel horrible from just taking that short ride."

  "Well, don't worry. You've got a good five days of bedrest ahead of you. By the time we get to the city you should be doing much better."

  "I hope so. I won't be able to help Katie if I can't get out of bed for more than twenty minutes." He was disgusted with his own weakness.

  "That's why I'm here," Mark championed himself.

  "If we get into a fight, just make sure that you're sober!" he teased, and Mark had the decency to look a bit shamefaced.

  "Don't worry, I've sworn off heavy drink."

  "Good," Christopher smiled, relaxing a bit. "Did you let Jacqui know that you were leaving?"

  "I sent her a note," Mark told him. "I figured that if I tried to explain it to her face to face, I'd probably give it all away. So, I just told her that I had to go back to see my father and that I'd only be gone a few weeks."

  "Then everything's taken care of."

  "I think so. Now, all we have to do is catch up with Katie."

  Katie left the hotel right after breakfast and went straight to the Pacific Railroad office. Bidding the hired driver to wait for her, she hurried inside and approached the clerk at the front desk.

  "Can I help you?" he asked.

  "Yes, I was wondering if you could tell me if George Kingsford is still working out on the line or..."

  "George Kingsford. Why no, he's not," the man replied abruptly.

  "Oh," Katie paused, hoping he'd continue and tell her where her father was. "Well, then, could you tell me where he is working?"

  "Are you a relation?" the clerk looked her over carefully.

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am!" Katie was losing her patience. "I'm his daughter."

  "Oh, well, in that case, Mr. Kingsford is here..."

  "He's in St. Louis?" she was thrilled. "Where can I find him?"

  "Right now, he's in the back office. Go on in."

  "Thank you." With all the eagerness of a child Katie wrestled her skirts through the narrow, low gate that separated the waiting area from the desks.

  Pushing the door open wide, she flew into the room.

  "Father!" she cried joyfully.

  "Katie?" George Kingsford looked up from his work and then stood up quickly to hug his daughter. "Katie, wh
at are you doing here? I thought you'd just gotten married."

  "I did Papa, see." She held up her hand to show him her wedding ring.

  "Oh, Katie. I'm so glad that you're here. I've really missed you, little one."

  "And I've missed you. But what are you doing in town? I thought I was going to have to chase you down out in the wilds."

  "As a matter of fact, I just came into the office to arrange a leave of absence."

  "What for?"

  "To go to Louisiana to see you and meet Christopher. Where is he?"

  "He'll be along soon," she hedged and her father knew it.

  "Katie Kingsford, you're not telling me the whole story," he accused.

  Katie sighed, suddenly feeling that it was time to share all of her worries.

  "Can we go somewhere to talk? I have so much to tell you."

  "Of course. Have you eaten?"

  "Yes, I have."

  "Let's go back to the hotel then, so we can have some privacy."

  "Fine. Where are you staying?"

  "I'm at the Planter's."

  "We are, too."

  "We?" George was curious.

  "I have a friend with me, but I'll explain all that to you later."

  Dismissing her hired carriage, they took George's own and rode back to the hotel speaking only of pleasant things. George, ever sensitive to his daughter's moods, recognized her agitation even after a long separation, but he was wise enough not to make mention of her tenseness. Finally, in George's luxurious suite of rooms, Katie felt safe enough to tell him of the horrors she'd just been through.

  "Can you talk about it, Katie?" he asked gently after the silence between them had grown heavy.

  "Yes, with you I think I can..." she told him as he sat next to her on the small sofa.

  "I know about the hurricane and your marriage. And Mark wrote again when Isaac died."

  "It was so sad.. .Cherie loved him so," Katie confided, close to tears.

  "Cherie? You mean he was still with her?"

  "Yes. Do you know her?"

  "Isaac had just begun their liaison when I left Louisiana with your mother."

  "Oh."

  "Where was his wife-Suzanne?"

  "Well, when Uncle Isaac was really sick he kept calling for Cherie, not Suzanne, and she got mad and left. Do you know, she never came back." Katie was still mystified by her behavior.