“No, if you’ll believe this, he’s purchased Lynwood. He and his wife have gone out there to inspect the property. He’ll return in a couple of days.”
“Does your father know Will bought the plantation?” That would go a long way to relieving the stress Mr. Carey was feeling.
“Papa hasn’t been told about Will yet. The doctor thought it would be too much of a shock while he’s ill. I suspect Julia convinced him of that.”
“Where is Julia?”
“I haven’t seen her today.”
Too bad. He needed to speak to the woman. Silence fell and his stomach growled, reminding him he’d not eaten since breakfast.
“You missed dinner. I’ll go fix you a plate while you wash up.”
They got to their feet, and he sneaked another kiss. “You already sound like a farmer’s wife. Could I drop in on your father for a minute?”
She scrunched her brows as if considering this, then smiled. “I don’t see why not. He’s been moved down here, on the other side of the hallway.” She gave his hand a squeeze before making her way towards the kitchen.
Washing up could wait. The need to speak to Gilbert Carey alone vaulted him across the hall. He hadn’t had the opportunity to interrogate the man since that short time he’d roomed here after arriving in Macon with Gillian. And he might not get another chance.
A narrow bed had been set up by the window. Mr. Carey lay with his hands clasped across his chest, perfectly still, his eyes shaded. He might have been meditating or staring at the magnolia tree outside the window. Alex paced softly into the room and peered at the sick man. The waning sunlight cast sad shadows around his eyes.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” The strength of Mr. Carey’s voice startled Alex, and he jerked around to search for a chair.
He pulled one of the straight, wooden chairs closer. “Here I am and glad to find you feeling better.”
“There’s not much time left.” Before Alex could decide whether or not the man referred to his own time, he added, “Gillian told me you two were married. Julia didn’t want her to, but Gillian can’t keep anything secret for long.”
Alex cleared his throat. “That’s right. I hope you give us your blessing. It means a lot to us.”
“If my blessing means anything, you have it. I’m glad she loves you, I assume you love her.” He slid a glance to Alex without moving his head.
“With all my heart.”
“Then take her away from here in the morning. Take Purity and Amanda with you. I ask you—no, beg you, not to leave Purity in Atlanta—but take her with you all the way to Missouri.”
“Of course, if she wishes to go.”
Mr. Carey visibly relaxed, his eyes fell back to half mask as if he were too weary to hold them open. Alex should leave him now, but he had to press one more time. “You’re right that time is short, and if I can be trusted with your daughter, surely you can trust me to reveal those harassing you.”
Silence cloaked the room as the seconds ticked off. Mr. Carey rubbed his thin lips together. “I don’t know who it is. If I did, I’d have taken care of the situation before now and without the army’s help.”
Maybe Gilbert Carey truly didn’t know, but Alex was confident he did. He stood. “I’ll leave you now. I just wanted to let you know I’ll take care of Gillian, and to wish you good health.”
“But you will leave early tomorrow morning? I know you care for my daughter.”
“If that’s your wish, and yes, I do care.”
***
Gillian wasn’t happy Alex wanted to return to Atlanta the next morning. He’d just gotten here. It had something to do with the business he’d taken care of yesterday afternoon. She didn’t press him and, of course, she readily agreed to leave with him. Papa was out of danger, and she had no intentions of letting her husband go anywhere without her.
She finally felt like a real bride. Heat surfaced her cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the fire in the stove where she stood flipping flapjacks. She and Alex were good and truly married now.
“Chile, you ortta let me do that.” Silva tried to take over.
Gillian pulled the spatula out of her reach. “I want to fix Alex’s breakfast. I won’t have a cook on the farm, so I have to learn how, don’t I?”
“Yes’m, you got a point there.” She laughed. “Miz Amanda say she can’t go with y’all this morning. She got some visiting to do.”
“I’m not surprised. She just got here yesterday. Alex and I wouldn’t leave except he has some army business to take care of.”
“I thought he wuz getting out of the army.”
“He is, but his last official day is next week, so I guess he’s finishing up for General Terry.”
Silva pulled out another pan for the bacon. “It’s early. Is the captain up yet?”
“Oh, I hope not. I want to fix him a tray.”
Silva’s fork clattered to the floor. “Is he still feeling poorly?”
“No, I just want to serve him breakfast in bed.”
The cook rolled her eyes and dipped with a grunt to retrieve her fork. “You got it bad, chile. Nobody ever brought my vittles to the bed ‘less I couldn’t get up.”
Gillian giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Alex asked from the doorway.
Gillian shoved the spatula in Silva’s hand and rushed to him. “Alex, you’ve spoiled everything. I was going to bring you breakfast.”
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be serving my bride. You get everything backwards, sweetheart.”
“Uh, uh, uh.” Lizzie shook her head at their carrying on, all the while dishing up the food and setting the table.
They ate in silence, staring into each other’s eyes. It wouldn’t have mattered what she ate, Gillian would have enjoyed it. She sipped her coffee. “I made the flapjacks.”
“They’re good, but anything you would’ve made would taste good to me.”
“I’ll ask you that again in about a month. Can I get you another cup of coffee?”
He got to his feet. “No, we don’t have time. The train leaves at nine. Are you packed?”
“Yes, already in the buggy.”
“Good, mine wasn’t unpacked from last night. I wouldn’t ask you to come, but your father insisted.”
“I know.” She wouldn’t try to speculate on why Papa acted like he did. It was enough that she’d be with Alex. “He wanted Purity to come too, but she’ll come later with Aunt Mandy. I think they want to give us some time together.”
The butler almost ran into Alex as he was leaving the room. “Excuse me, sir. A soldier brought you a message—official like.”
“Thank you, Jim.” He took the document, and she noticed General Terry’s insignia as he popped it open.
What now? “Nothing serious, I hope.” She wasn’t about to let even official duties interfere with their plans.
He continued reading for a few moments before looking up. “Do you know where the Sunnydale School is?”
“Of course. I attended as a child. It was a primary school before the war. Papa hired a tutor for Will and me after sixth grade, though I left for England after one semester.”
Alex twisted his mouth, then in a lowered voice, said, “These are orders to investigate the abandoned building that used to be Sunnydale School. They suspect it’s used as a meeting place for the Klan.”
“How can we do that without missing our train?”
“Do you know where this place is? We could go there on the way to the depot if we leave now.”
She glanced at the wall clock. It was almost eight o’clock, but the school wasn’t far. They could make it. “All right. Let me get my hat.”
Chapter 28
They were half-way down the street before Alex realized he shouldn’t have let Gillian come with him. How did he know what danger might await? The railroad contract burned in his pocket. What if someone had followed him? Found out he knew?
>
Gillian had addled him.
He chuckled at that thought. The age-old excuse of man—blame the woman.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, hanging onto his arm, sending warmth up his arm.
“Nothing. I was just wondering what people would think to find you sitting so close. Most of them don’t know we’re married.”
“Well, it’s time they found out. I care not what they think, do you?”
He stole a kiss. “No, I don’t.”
“Oh, there it is.” She pointed in the direction of a squat bungalow that looked to have originally been a one-story house with an attic. Brambles covered it on one side and cracks ran like a spider’s web across two windows. “Here’s the walk with the uneven bricks that hateful Eva Kirk tripped me on when I was six.”
He surveyed the place as they stepped toward the entrance. Oddly, drapes covered all the windows, except the attic and that lone window gave the impression of a single eye staring at them.
She grabbed his hand. “And once a snake hid under this little porch. We all went screaming, including the teacher.”
He extracted his hand from hers and tried the door, surprised to find it unbolted. True abandoned buildings weren’t always locked, but if men used it for a meeting place, one would think it would be bolted. “Gillian, maybe you’d better go back and stay in the buggy. I don’t know what we’ll find.”
“You have your gun. I want to see if it’s the same on the inside.”
He smiled. It was hard to imagine a less sinister place, even with the brambles.
“All right, but stay behind me.” He pushed against the door, finding it slip open easily. The door fell back with a squawk. With Gillian on his heels, he opened the drapes of the first room. That stirred up dust, making Gillian sneeze.
He tried to pry the window open, but it was nailed shut. The dingy panes did let in enough light to see the inside of this room. “How many rooms are there?”
“Just two and a hall in between. Younger children were in this room and the older in the other.”
He checked the opposite room and found it full of broken desks and other junk. A little stairwell at the back must go to the attic.
“What are we looking for?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Anything that looks like Klan paraphernalia. Sheets, correspondence, costumes, papers.”
“Stuff like that might be kept in the closets.” She left his side and trekked to the closet of the first room. “We kept our reading and writing supplies in here.”
Gillian yanked the door open, and the dark form of a man appeared in the shadows. She jumped back with a strangled cry, and Alex’s hand went to his pistol.
Not fast enough.
Before he’d moved two steps, the man caught Gillian by the arm and swung her around. She struggled as her assailant gripped her around the waist with one arm.
The glint of steel revealed his weapon, positioned on Gillian’s shoulder, the barrel pointing to her neck.
Panic sliced through Alex, cutting his breath off. He frantically sought to find some way to bargain with a desperate man—a man who had nothing to lose by murdering them both.
Please, Lord, help us.
“Shoot him, Alex,” Gillian yelled. “He can’t kill us both.”
Alex lowered his forty-five, even as Major Turley laughed. “How courageous, Mrs. Blaine, but he won’t do it. Throw your gun over to that wall, captain. Now.”
Cold fear crushed Alex’s chest. The cad was right. He couldn’t risk hitting Gillian. Tossing the pistol as ordered, he heard it slide to the baseboard of the wall with a sickening thud. He forced a calm voice. “Let her go, major. She doesn’t know anything.”
“She knows enough now, doesn’t she? I didn’t expect you to bring your wife into this, but I can use her.”
Use her? How? And how could he have walked into this trap, and worse, brought Gillian with him. Dear God, help us out of this. Take care of her.
“See, Mrs. Blaine. Your husband’s love for you renders him helpless. He’s no different than your father who would do everything I asked of him in the hopes of saving his mulatto daughter. I discovered then that love is much stronger than hate, and a much better weapon to leverage against your enemies.”
Alex ordered his nerves under control. Turley had been well trained to identify his opponents’ weaknesses. Holding a gun to Gillian’s neck would keep Alex hoping and praying for a way to save her. But Turley couldn’t know Alex’d had him in his sights for a long time. Maybe he could reason with the man. “What’s the meaning of all this, Major? I received orders, which I presumed were from General Terry, to investigate this place.”
“You presume wrong. It’s easy to steal stationery from the general’s office. My plan is set in motion, but timing is of the utmost importance. Lukas Boyles is getting on that train you will miss. He’ll return immediately after taking care of James Parker. He’s been instructed to return here, not expecting that he’ll be arrested for your…demise. Now you know why Boyles couldn’t remain in jail.”
Gillian gasped, but Alex schooled his features not to show emotion. “Unhand my wife, and I can help you in ways you don’t imagine. I know secrets about men in high places.
It was the only chip he had to play. Turley was, above all, a greedy man who knew how to extort what he wanted from powerful men and used their secrets as weapons to that end.
“Major…Turley?” Gillian’s voice was shrill and angry. “Let me go.” She squirmed and tried to kick her captor.
“That won’t work this time. Boyles should have choked you when he had the chance.”
Gillian shot Alex an anguished stare. His fingers itched for his missing gun. The pistol lay not more than ten feet away. Gillian and the major about the same distance. He would go for Turley’s gun if the man slipped his guard. Right now he had to play for time.
“So the Boyles were your flunkies?”
Turley grinned. “Yes. I offered them a deal they couldn’t refuse. I realized quickly there was money to be made in the turmoil and confusion after the war, but I needed a shadow army. I had my real army round up the Klansmen who were terrorizing the freedmen, and from them I hand-picked those who would throw in with me in my plans. Now, captain, if you don’t want me to put a bullet in your charming wife’s head, close those drapes behind you. I don’t want to be seen from the outside.”
With the drapes closed, the room fell into semi-darkness. “What were your plans?” He didn’t know what else to do to keep the man talking. If he were preoccupied with gloating over his success, he wouldn’t turn on Gillian. In the meantime, maybe God would give Alex some way to get them both out of this alive. He didn’t deceive himself into thinking they weren’t in real danger and needing a miracle. But until a miracle came, time was all he could bargain for.
“You tell me, captain. I know Washington sent you on a secret mission to expose the trouble-makers. They didn’t think I was doing a good job and maybe they already suspected me.”
“No, they just thought you were inept.”
Gillian jumped in, like she could read Alex’s mind and wanted to keep the major talking in an attempt to buy time. “You lied to me, Alex. You were investigating my father, weren’t you?” He was so proud of her. She wasn’t swooning or trembling like most ladies would.
“I’m sorry, Gillian. Your father was a major suspect. It was obvious some gang had infiltrated the government. We thought it was the white elected officials. Then they were recalled, and Georgia put back under military rule. Your father was the only one who shouldn’t have been recalled because he could legitimately take the loyalty oath—except he wouldn’t. I was to find out why. I discovered he was being terrorized by men who were blackmailing him for cooperation and money. That’s how he lost Lynwood. He not only had to sell the plantation to a carpetbagger but give the money to the thugs.”
“He didn’t give it all to us.” Funny how Turley wanted to take credit for the corruption, but ins
isted Alex get it right.
The intensity of Gillian’s gaze pulled him to her eyes. The fear was gone, replaced with confidence. Without words, they communicated with each other. “Why would Papa do that? Why didn’t he report them?” she asked.
Alex shifted his glance back to the hand that held Turley’s gun. If the major relaxed even a split second, Alex had to be prepared to act. He answered Gillian’s question before Turley could speak. “They threatened to expose his past love affair with a mulatto woman and probably threatened to kill his daughter, Purity.”
“So that’s why Papa sent Purity to live with Aunt Mandy and Uncle George.” Gillian said it like she’d just figured it out, though Alex knew she already knew her father’s past.
As Alex expected, Turley couldn’t keep from bragging about his crime. “He sent his little colored daughter to Atlanta, but soon realized that wouldn’t protect her.”
“What do you mean?” Gillian asked.
“Meaning I sent my men up there, Boyles and his gang.”
Keep him talking, Alex’s instinct told him. “Boyles and his gang were staunch Southerners. Why would they join your mad scheme?” he asked. “What did you have on Boyles?”
Turley barked a laugh. “He was a former Klan wizard. I had a string of crimes I could pin on him at any time, including murder.”
“Is fear your only weapon?”
“No, I use love. Fear is a powerful weapon, but love makes one vulnerable to fear. All I had to do was find what a man—or woman—loves most and threaten it. They’ll yield every time.”
“You know nothing about love.” The contempt in Gillian’s tone made Turley chuckle. And shift his stance.
“I beg to disagree. Love is the most powerful thing in the world. More powerful than God.”
“God is love.”
The major ignored her. “No—let me prove it. I have a proposition for you, captain. I’ll let your charming wife go as soon as my other guest arrives, and she won’t report me or go get help.”
What other guest? “You don’t think my wife loves me enough to seek revenge?”
The Captain's Challenge (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 3) Page 27
