by Karen White
Long arms of clouds reached around the full moon in a celestial embrace, lighting our way while casting sporadic shadows. Jezebel picked her way across the side of the house with its barren garden, and to the large brick-and-frame cottage in the rear that housed Daniel’s medical practice.
I spied a light in the window of the office with a surge of relief. I slid off the horse, then took Rebecca and Samantha from the horse and tied Jezebel’s reins to a tree. Taking Rebecca’s hand, I went to the door of the cottage.
I knocked loudly and waited for an answer. After several minutes, I knocked again, but heard only silence. Then, to my surprise, Rebecca turned the latch and opened the door.
A small lamp burned on a table in what appeared to be a waiting room. This was the oldest portion of the cottage and consisted of three brick walls. The fourth wall, part of the newer addition and consisting of frame and plaster, had a wooden door built in the middle, apparently leading to an examining room. A group of chairs clustered together on a braided rug, and a fireplace, devoid of fire, covered an entire side of the room. “Daniel?” I called, my voice loud in the empty room.
Rebecca stepped past me to a large music box on a pedestal table. I gave a start as I recognized it as my wedding gift to John and Elizabeth. Curious, I walked toward it and opened the lid, startled to recognize the bright, tinny song that floated up to me.
Rebecca stood next to me and began to hum the odd, off-key melody, and it hit a strange chord in me. I thought back on all of Elizabeth’s doctor’s visits and the drawer full of licorice sticks and Rebecca’s familiarity with this song, and I knew. Elizabeth was not running away with Philip, was she, Daniel? And the child she carried was yours. I recalled Clara’s lamentations of her own barren state, and wondered if she knew about Elizabeth and Daniel, and I prayed she did not. The knowledge would be too hard to bear. I glanced down at Rebecca and tried to see Daniel in her face, but could not.
I noticed a door on the far side of the room and knocked on it, calling Daniel’s name. Unease settled in my belly when I again heard no response. I pushed open the door farther and it opened slightly, then hit something solid that was blocking it. Peering inside, I saw Daniel Lewiston lying on the floor, a thin trickle of blood seeping from his forehead. His body was wedged behind the door, making it nearly impossible to open.
“Where is Dr. Lewiston, Mama?”
Forcing my voice to remain calm, I said, “I am going to find out. But I need you and Samantha to sit down in that chair while I look for him, all right? And promise me that you will not go anywhere.”
Solemnly, she nodded, then settled herself and her large rag doll into a chair.
With all of my might, I pushed on the door and managed to open it a little more, giving me enough room to squeeze through the doorway. The only illumination came from a flickering candle on the desk, casting thick shadows in the across the room. I knelt by Daniel on the floor and lifted his head.
I called his name and pressed my fingers to his neck. His pulse was faint and erratic, but at least he was still alive. I needed to get help, for I could not tend to his injuries alone.
Leaning over him, I whispered, “Daniel, I have to leave you to get help. I promise to be back as quickly as I can.” Gently I lowered his head, then took off my cloak and put it on him, using a portion of it to pillow his head.
As I stood, I spotted a movement in the shadows and I held up my arm in defense. “John!” I cried. To my shock and horror, I saw that it was not my husband who emerged from the dark corner of the room.
Clara’s eyes were wild in the flickering light. “Your husband will not be able to save you now, Catherine.”
I ignored her, not quite understanding yet. “Clara, Daniel is hurt. I must go get help.” My voice faded as I spied the mallet in her hand and it became all too clear as to how Daniel had been hurt.
I barely recognized the voice coming from the mousy Clara that I knew. “Men are so weak. I knew it was only a matter of time before Daniel would transfer his affection for Elizabeth to you. You are more alike than you think, you know. You attract men like bees to honey. Just like her.”
“Clara, you are confused. There is nothing between Daniel and me. He was only helping me escape. . . .” A sick feeling spilled itself in my belly. I was escaping John because I thought he had harmed Elizabeth and Philip, and meant to harm me. But Clara had just struck Daniel, perhaps with the intent to kill him. “Did you . . .” I swallowed. “Did you hurt Elizabeth?”
She threw back her head and laughed an evil laugh I would have never thought her capable of. “Of course I did. She was carrying the baby that was meant for me and taking what was mine, as you are trying to do now. I will never let that happen.”
Daniel moaned and I looked down at him. “If you care anything for your husband, you will let me seek help.”
She also glanced at Daniel and her lower lip quivered. “He does not love me. He never has. I had once hoped that my love would be enough.”
She looked back to me, and the wild cast was in her eyes again. “I wanted you to go away before Daniel noticed you. I tried to warn you away. Marguerite helped—locked you in the attic and put the snake in your room. But I put the doll in the pond. I knew how you let your little boy die. You all thought I was not smart, but I am. Everyone knows to stay away from oleander leaves, but you never seemed to understand. If only you had not looked so much like her . . .”
Tumbling images crowded my mind as I tried to make sense of her words. Acid churned in my stomach as I realized my own folly. In my haste to get away from the one person who could protect me, I had run straight into the arms of the one set to destroy me.
I forced my voice to stay strong. “And what of Philip? Did he have a part in any of your plans?”
“That fool. I told him that we would help him get rid of John if he would get rid of you. You are the reason my Daniel will not love me and you need to be gone. Like Elizabeth.”
I tried to speak rationally with her, make her talk of her plans to get her to calm down. “But why would Philip agree to such a thing?”
“Greed. It is as deadly a sin as lust. His parents had disowned him and he needed money to leave the country. Seems he knew too much about some lynchings.” She slid the mallet so that her hands were on the pole near its head.
Her eyes brightened and she appeared completely normal, her tone of voice no different from when we were sitting in my parlor and drinking tea. But her words chilled me to the bone.
“You were supposed to take a tumble from the carriage, and when that failed, he set the fire in the mill to distract everyone, and then he waited in the house for you. But the man was weak, like all men, and he could not harm you. He was supposed to lock you in the room after Marguerite put the snake in there and then stop anybody from helping you. He had brought a gun, hoping John would come to your rescue so he could kill him.”
She shook with fury, the knuckles of the hand gripping the mallet turning white. “But he could not bear the thought of being responsible for your death. So he left, the coward. I had no choice but to kill him. He was of no use to me if he would not get rid of you. But he knew enough of my plans to ensure he would not live long to tell.” She grinned a feral smile, her white teeth flashing in the dimness. “I killed him right where you are standing now and where Daniel stood not more than an hour ago. And then Marguerite helped me dump him in your pond, where we hoped you would find him. That was the night Marguerite laid the conjure ball on your bed, too. And now we will see that its prophecy will come true.”
She looked down at the worn mallet in her hand as if contemplating how heavy a blow it would take to fell me. Then her eyes sought mine again. “I know you found the secret stairs in the house, but you never found the hidden rooms. Marguerite and I would hide in them and listen to every word you said. Or pretend to be a ghost for Rebecca. That is how I knew things.
But you never suspected, did you? You were too busy trying to get Daniel to fall in love with you. That is how I know that you and Daniel are planning to run away tonight together. But I cannot let that happen.”
She took a step toward me, but froze at the tapping on the door.
“Mama? I am scared out here by myself. Who are you talking to?”
I threw myself at the blocked door, desperate to keep her away. “Run, Rebecca, run! Go find your papa—anybody. Get help. Now!”
“Mama?” Her voice was full of questions and uncertainty.
Clara moved quickly toward me but tripped on Daniel, falling on her knees.
Frantically, I turned back to the partially open door, blocking it with my body. “Rebecca, do it now. Please. Just run—run as far as you can and hide.”
“Mama?”
“Do it!”
I heard her run across the room and then fling the front door open before I turned to face Clara. She had regained her balance and was now advancing on me.
“She cannot hide from me. Marguerite will find her eventually. But it is you and your lover I need to deal with now.”
I backed up against the door. “Why would you want to hurt an innocent child?”
Clara’s mouth erupted in a bitter laugh. “There is no such thing as an innocent child, is there? Especially not that one. Daniel might not be her father”—she shrugged, looking incongruous with the mallet clutched in her hand—“but it is quite certain that John is not, either.”
Fear and despair began winning out over courage and I had to choke back sobs. “Please—please do not hurt her. She is just a child.”
“You are not really in a position to tell me what I can and cannot do, now, are you? At first she was merely a means to an end. I thought if something happened to her, surely you would leave. But now she has been here and seen things. She knows my voice.”
I said a silent prayer that Rebecca had listened to me and had hidden herself far away from the cottage.
“You are making a terrible mistake. Daniel is only helping me escape—he is not coming with me. There is nothing between us.”
With a hiss, she threw a crumpled letter at me. It hit my shoulder before falling on the rug. “That is a farewell note he wrote to me. He was not planning on coming back.”
Rage seemed to flood her features as she raised the mallet over her head with both arms. With a grunt, she swung at me, narrowly missing my head as I ducked. It slammed the door closed while leaving a splintery scar in the wood panel.
I ran to the desk while glancing frantically around the room for a weapon with which to defend myself, but to no avail. Too late, I looked up to see Clara hoisting the mallet over her head again, its thick end aimed at my skull. Seeing no other recourse, I threw myself at her, my head hitting her forcibly in the chest, pushing her backward and making her grunt. The mallet struck my back with a glancing blow, knocking the wind out of me momentarily.
She fell backward and I on top of her, the mallet hitting the floor behind us with a solid thud. We both grappled to stand and find the weapon first. My hands settled around the smooth wood of the stick before I felt Clara’s nails claw into the tender skin at the back of my neck as she tried to pull me away.
Her hands slid down to the neckline of my dress and I heard a loud rending of fabric as my dress tore away, taking Clara with it. I struggled to a stand, surprised at the heaviness of the mallet. Breathing deeply, I said, “I do not want to hurt you. If you cooperate with me and go with me to find help for Daniel, I will see that you get the help you need. You have endured a lot, Clara. There are many people who will understand and will come to your aid.”
Her thin brown hair had come loose from our struggle and now hung raggedly over her face and shoulders. I forced myself to count my heartbeats as I waited for her answer.
As before, I witnessed her rage and jealousy feed her muscles as she came at me again. “I have lost everything, and somebody has to pay!” Her fingers flew to my throat and she began to squeeze the breath from me. Still, I clung to the mallet, not yet willing to use it. The light began to dim from my eyes, and for a moment I was tempted to let the battle I had been fighting for so long be over. My battle for survival had been a futile, uphill struggle, and I was ready to put the load down and be done with it.
From far away I thought I heard my name being called and the pounding of hoofbeats. John. I forced my eyes open but could barely see the shadow of the woman choking the life from me.
“Catherine!”
It was him, and his voice was like a fire in my blood. With my last ounce of energy I shoved at Clara, knocking her away. As I gasped for breath, I blindly swung the mallet, hitting something soft yet solid.
Clara flew sideways, falling into the desk before sliding to the ground. The candle wobbled at the impact, and I watched it move from side to side, as if undecided as to what it should do, before finally collapsing and rolling off the desk, the flame catching the long draperies on fire. I watched, mesmerized, as long fingers of flame spread along the length of the curtains, creating a wall of heat that nearly singed my skin.
Dropping the mallet, I grabbed Daniel by the shoulders and tugged with a strength I did not know I possessed. Maneuvering him out of the way, I swung open the door and pulled him through it. Billows of smoke covered us, making me cough and my eyes sting as I dragged Daniel through the waiting area and to the front door.
My lungs felt as if they would explode and spots danced in front of my eyes as I searched for air in the suffocating room. I dropped to my knees, no longer having the strength to stand, and found the air clearer near the floor.
As if by my will alone, the door opened and John stood in the threshold. Strong hands grabbed me, then lifted me. I heard him issue orders for someone else to get Daniel, and then I was breathing the sweet outside air once again.
He laid me on the grass while I struggled for breath and words. I clutched at his coat. “Clara . . . she is still . . . inside.”
He uttered a low curse. “I will find her.” With a quick touch to my cheek, he disappeared in the direction of the burning building. I could find no breath to carry my words of caution to him or to call him back.
Daniel was laid next to me, and I blinked up and recognized the judge and two men from Whispering Oaks. Daniel had regained consciousness and now struggled to rise, managing to lift up on his elbows. Relieved to see him alive, I let my head fall back upon the grass, grateful to feel the prickly sweetness of it.
Judge Patterson knelt by my head and brushed the hair from my face. Lifting me slightly, he gave me water to drink from a cup. I drank it thankfully, feeling the cool, soothing liquid slide down my parched throat. “Have . . . you found . . . Rebecca? She is . . . hiding.”
As if in answer to my prayer, she came running from behind a large magnolia, the white bow in her hair glowing like a star in the night. She bounded to me and I hugged her to my side, burying my face in her hair. It smelled of smoke and sweat and fear, and I cursed Clara silently for inflicting such harm on this child.
As the judge moved to stand, I grabbed his wrist. “John?”
He shifted his eyes away for a moment toward the building, which now had flames dancing on its roof and crying out from every window. There was nothing anybody could do but watch it burn.
He turned back to me. “He went around to the back of the house to see if he could get in that way. He has not come out yet.”
I closed my eyes, remembering how I had felt when I heard John call my name, and tried to summon that strength again. When I felt my blood surge, I willed my strength and hope and love to him and waited. My hand crept to the pocket of my skirt and I found the lodestone, wrapped my fingers around it, and squeezed tightly.
The judge spoke, his voice solemn. “I want you to know that I did not go back on my word to keep your secret. I was approached
earlier this evening by Philip’s father, with a letter Philip had left in his desk drawer before he died. It explained the fire at the sugar mill and Clara’s involvement and reasons for it, as well as some other interesting things I do not want to go into now. And when I saw you leave after speaking with Marguerite, I knew there was trouble. So I told John, knowing him to be innocent of trying to harm you. I hope you will forgive me.”
I grabbed his hand and squeezed.
“Marguerite has disappeared into the swamp. We will find her and bring her in to see that justice is served, but I have a feeling that the swamp will serve its own particular brand of justice.” I shuddered, recalling the night my carriage overturned and the sounds of the prowling night predators.
Patting my shoulder, the judge stood and turned toward the house. I held Rebecca’s hand in mine, drawing strength from her sturdy little spirit and taking comfort in her presence. She rested her head on my shoulder and sucked her thumb as the burning house popped and crackled behind us, sending smoke into the sky like an offering. Daniel looked at me for a moment, but the horror and grief in his eyes said more than I could find words for. He turned away, and I stared up into the black sky and began counting stars, keeping the dark thoughts at bay.
I became aware of movement all around me. More men had arrived, perhaps noticing the fire from the levee. Several stopped to check on Daniel and me, and at our request sat us up against a tree. My lungs burned and I still found it hard to breathe deeply. We sat in silence, coughing sporadically, our eyes turned toward the burning building.
A gasp went up among the crowd, all eyes riveted on the south end of the small cottage. With a creaking groan, the wall collapsed, sending sparks and splintered wood toward the onlookers. I stared at the flaming house, then dropped my head onto my drawn-up knees and wept.
Rebecca tugged at my hand and then let go. I felt her warmth leave my side and I jerked my head up. Moving slowly, a dark shadow appeared against the flaming backdrop of the cottage. My heart seemed to stick in my throat as I watched the shadow loom larger as it approached.
