Patricia Hagan

by Loves Wine

Holly told him she hadn’t wanted to wake Sally, but would visit her after dinner. “I won’t go to bed until I’ve talked to her.”

  He nodded, smiling secretively. Why was Roger so peculiar sometimes?

  After a dinner of roasted capon with almond dressing, sweet potatoes, snap beans, and too much champagne, Holly declined the lemon pie and excused herself.

  “Tomorrow is going to be a long day, and I do want to see Sally.”

  Claudia reminded her, “We have the tea at ten, the luncheon with the ladies from church at noon, another tea at four, and the dinner party tomorrow night. So get a good night’s sleep.”

  Holly was almost through the door leading to the rear hallway when Jarvis snapped at Roger. “Are you going to let her wander around in the dark by herself? Go with her, son.”

  Holly didn’t notice Roger’s hesitation. “I can find my way,” she said. “After all, I grew up here.” She smiled to soften the pointed remark. “I’ll take the lantern from the kitchen. I won’t be long.”

  Roger rose, sounding less than sincere as he offered, “I’ll be glad to walk with you.” He hesitated, glancing at his dinner plate. “I suppose I’ve had enough to eat.”

  She waved away his offer. “Stay. Finish your dinner. You’re all treating me like a child.”

  Finding a lantern on a table in the kitchen and lighting it, she made her way outside into the warm night. Why, she fumed as she walked to the stable, couldn’t they all leave her alone? She had enough to think about without everyone watching her every move.

  She was almost to the stable, light spilling from the windows of the living quarters upstairs. Lost in thought, she didn’t see the man leap from the shadows. He threw his arm around her neck, crooking his elbow under her throat, cutting off her scream. Yanking her against him, he dragged her toward the stables. “You better just come along quiet, girlie, ’cause if you piss me off any more’n I’m already pissed off, I might just go on and kill you instead of makin’ you wish I would.”

  Amidst the stabbing terror, Holly recognized the voice. She clawed at his arm, but he squeezed tighter. “Keep that up, and I’ll kill you now, damn it.” He pressed hard against her throat until she stopped struggling. Then he hurriedly dragged her through the shadows and into the stable.

  Taking her to one of the stalls at the rear, he flung her to the ground, instantly landing on her and straddling her to hold her down. He slapped her, hard, twice. He did it again. Forward. Back. Again and again. Holly tasted blood. Pain stabbed her face and jaw like knives of fire. She was losing consciousness in the terror and agony, slipping fast.

  “Gonna have a good time teachin’ you a lesson, bitch,” Alex Wellman cackled. This was fun. Bless Roger Bonham for arranging this, he thought wildly, happily. Not only was he getting revenge on her, but his share of the gold would be waiting when he was done, and he could leave there and head home and get on with his life—a rich man.

  He hooked his fingers in the bodice of her dress and ripped it apart, exposing her breasts. Fondling brutally, he giggled. Holly lay in a stupor, unable to move, unable to cry out.

  “Hell, you ain’t out of it,” Wellman snarled, digging his dirty fingernails into the soft flesh of her breast and twisting. She moaned, body jerking convulsively, and he laughed, delighted. “Shit, no, you ain’t out of it, ’cause I ain’t gonna beat you senseless. I want you to feel everything I’m doin’ to you. I want you to remember me the next time you point a gun at a man.” He ducked his head and sunk his teeth into her and this time she screamed, which only spurred him on. Bonham’s orders were to punish her, but he wasn’t allowed to rape her. Cut his balls off, that’s what he’d threatened, Wellman recalled bitterly. Who’d Bonham think he was, anyhow? He’d die if he tried to cut Wellman’s balls off. Die, that’s what.

  He yanked up her skirts and jerked her legs apart, tearing at her undergarments. He would have his fill, by damn, then slap her around some more. Pulling himself up to his knees, he fumbled with his pants. “Gonna be good, bitch, real good,” he panted. “Alex Wellman knows how to please a woman, make her—”

  A shot rang out and Alex grunted, eyes incredulous as he realized that a bullet had hit him in the back. There was no time to contemplate his fate, for his fate was upon him. He fell forward onto Holly, and was dead a moment later.

  Pistol smoking, Roger stepped forward and kicked Alex to the side, then knelt beside Holly. She whimpered, barely conscious. “It’s all right, Holly,” he murmured in his most sympathetic voice. “I’m here. No one is going to hurt you any more.”

  Outside was the sound of feet running and then the sound of gunfire. Norman Grady came charging in, yelling into the darkness, “What’s goin’ on in there? Who’s in there? I got a gun!”

  “Put it away,” Roger barked. Hell, he didn’t need that blundering fool to charge in and shoot him. “Get a lantern. Holly’s been hurt. I killed a man.”

  “Lawdy, Lawdy…” Norman moaned, fumbling for the lanterns he kept hanging on nails just inside the door. Striking a match and touching it to the wick, he hurried over. Seeing the dead man, Holly’s agonized face and torn clothes, he turned away, horrified.

  Roger pulled Holly’s dress around her, then lifted her and carried her out of the stable. Just outside, he met Jarvis and Claudia. “She was being attacked,” he spoke in a rush, hurrying by them toward the house. “I had to kill the man. Don’t know who he was. Don’t know how bad she’s hurt. Somebody send for a doctor.”

  Claudia screamed, close to fainting, but Jarvis held her steady. She commanded herself not to give way. Her child needed her.

  Jarvis was snapping orders right and left. “Norman, ride for the doctor, ride like lightning. Bobo, you go for the law. Somebody, go in there and make sure that bastard’s really dead. If he isn’t, tie him up. If he is, stand guard. Make sure nobody messes with the body.”

  Holding Holly, Roger took the stairs two at a time and rushed her to her room. He laid her on the bed as gently as he could. Claudia and Jarvis dashed in and began fussing over her as he stood back to survey the results of her “lesson.” It looked like only a few bruises. Wellman hadn’t been able to rape her, so her injuries were nothing major. She would be fine.

  Grinning, Roger turned away so no one could see his smile. He just couldn’t help that satisfied grin. Everything had gone so well. “I think I need a drink,” he called over his shoulder.

  Jarvis called out proudly, “You deserve one, son, you surely do.”

  Roger’s grin stayed with him as he ran down the stairs. “I surely do,” he mimicked under his breath.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Holly was spittin’ mad, as her grandfather would have said. Staring at herself in the mirror, she couldn’t remember being angrier. The bastard. The cowardly, low-life worm. So what if he’d felt justified in revenge because she’d shot him first? She’d been facing him when she did, and she’d shot him in defense, for heaven’s sake. The scum!

  She touched the bruise beneath her right eye. Purple and red and green and yellow. On her left cheek were four red marks—the imprint of Wellman’s hand. Perhaps that was what infuriated her the most, the fact that he’d left his mark on her flesh. How dared he?

  She turned as the door opened. “Darling, darling, get back into bed,” urged Claudia. “You haven’t had any rest! You were awake all night.”

  “I’m too angry to sleep,” Holly snapped, turning to look at herself again. Picking up her brush, she began to pull it through her hair, smoothing the long tresses about her face and shoulders.

  Claudia shook her head. “You must rest. You’ll have to miss the dinner party tonight, I know, but if you’re up to it, you can attend the ball tomorrow night.”

  “I’m going to the party tonight,” Holly said flatly.

  Claudia eyes widened. “But…but Holly, dear,” she stammered, “your face. By tomorrow, some of the redness will be gone. I’m sure you aren’t up to seeing people now anyhow.”

  �
�That’s what they want, Mother. They want me to take to my bed and cry and moan and be frightened. I’ll die before I give them my fear.” Claudia stood there, staring at her. “The hoodlums responsible for this,” she pointed to her bruises, “the bastards responsible for terrifying Sally—for everything that has happened to me lately—aren’t going to make me yield to them. I refuse to cower and cry and be a sniveling little victim.”

  Claudia was all too aware of her daughter’s high temper. Sighing, she told her, “Colonel Colter and Captain Davis are downstairs. They’d like to speak with you, if you feel up to it. They just finished talking to Roger.”

  “Tell them to come up,” Holly said. Was there no way of avoiding Scott? At least Neil would be present, diffusing some of the tension.

  She dressed in a mauve silk dressing coat, and applied a touch of color to her lips in hope of distracting from her bruises. Then she sat in a chair near the window. Almost at once there was a knock on the door. She called “Come in,” and hated herself for the rush of disappointment at the sight of Neil alone. “I thought Colonel Colter was with you,” she blurted, then wished she hadn’t.

  Neil hurried over, oblivious to her words because the sight of her punished face had stunned him so. “If Roger hadn’t killed the man who did this to you, Holly, I’d do it myself.” He knelt before her, searching her eyes anxiously. “Are you truly all right? Is there anything I can do?”

  She shook her head. “Thank you, Neil, no. It’s over. The less said about it, the better.” She wished she could love him. He was so kind.

  He sat in the chair opposite her. “I know you get tired of hearing it, but the best thing you can do is move off that land and move in here. You aren’t safe out there, and the army can’t be around every minute to watch over you.”

  “I haven’t asked them to,” she said sharply. “I haven’t asked anybody to watch over me.” There was a pause. “I haven’t told this to another soul, Neil, but I’d almost reached the point of doing just what you said. But leaving is out of the question now. They went too far last night. I’m going to stay on my land and show them they can’t frighten people.” She sighed. “It’s all so ridiculous when you think about it. Who am I hurting by living there? You’d think that property was valuable or something.”

  Neil stiffened, hoped she didn’t note his reaction.

  “If it’s any comfort, you aren’t the only person being persecuted,” he rushed on. “What’s happening here is happening all over the South. Gangs taking the law into their own hands. There’s even a rumor that Mississippi is going to do formally what all the Southern states have started doing informally—establish a ‘black code’ that will forbid Negroes to testify against whites, and have Negroes who aren’t working arrested for vagrancy, then hired out to anyone who needs them.”

  Holly was horrified and said so.

  “It all sounds terrible,” Neil said. “It is terrible. The die-hard Rebels are out to terrorize Negroes—anyone else who gets in their way. They want to get rid of Northern troops in what they consider their country and go back to the two-tiered system with the Negroes on the bottom. Sometimes I think there’ll never be peace,” he finished with a dismal sigh.

  There was another knock on the door, and when Sally entered, Holly leaped to her feet and ran to embrace her. Behind her, looking most uncomfortable in a lady’s bedroom, stood Norman.

  “You’s all right, missy?” Sally stopped, stunned. “Oh, Lawdy, the bruises—”

  “I’m fine, Sally, really,” Holly told her firmly. “You and I are much too strong to let those monsters do us any real damage. Aren’t we?”

  Sally didn’t look at all convinced. Her nightmare was too fresh.

  “Holly,” Neil said, “I’ve got to be going.” Walking toward the door, he finished, “If I can do anything for you at all, let me know.”

  Holly gave him a grateful smile, and the door closed behind him.

  The two women sat down, spontaneously clasping hands. Norman remained standing. Sally had an urgent manner that stopped Holly before she could speak.

  “I told Norman he had to get your permission to do what he wants to do,” Sally began, “’cause you need to know what’s going on.”

  Holly turned to Norman expectantly.

  “It’s like this, Miz Maxwell,” he said nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I got to thinkin’ how all of a sudden them Night Hawks is actin’ like they want to get through with you, be done with you. Right on top of burnin’ the cross and scarin’ Sally and you, they beat you up. They ain’t about to let up. They’s wantin’ it over with. That’s what I think.”

  He paused, breathing deeply to calm his racing heart. Holly nodded. She liked Norman. There was something about his manner that she trusted. “Please go on,” she urged.

  That eased Norman considerably. Most white folks would brush him aside. “Miz Holly, I don’t think they’re gonna back off now, even if Mastah Roger did kill one of ’em last night. I heard him talkin’ to the army men this mornin’ out at the stable, and he tol’ them he didn’t expect more trouble, ’cause he was certain you’d be smart enough now to see the danger. ‘A man’s dead because of her stubbornness,’ that’s what he said. But that ain’t the way you see it, is it? You ain’t gonna back off, are you?”

  “Of course she is,” Sally interjected. “She won’t go back there now.” She looked to Holly hopefully. “Will you?”

  Holly decided not to answer until Norman was through.

  “The way I got it figured,” he went on, “they’s gonna think you got so much spirit and fire that what happened last night is gonna make you just that much madder. You’ll be more determined to show ’em they ain’t gonna scare you off your land. That’s what they’ll think.”

  “Exactly,” Holly informed him, ignoring Sally’s horrified look.

  Norman nodded, pleased he’d been understood so far. “They know you’re here. I think they’ll do somethin’ else tonight—like maybe set fire to your cabin. So I’m goin’ over there and keep an eye out, just in case. First sign of trouble, and I’ll hightail it back here for help.” His chest swelled with pride.

  Holly eyed him worriedly. “I don’t know, Norman. You could be right, but I don’t like you putting yourself in danger on my account.”

  “But—”

  “No, Norman,” Holly declared firmly, having made up her mind. “It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt. Let’s just get through this weekend and then next week we’ll talk about it some more, all right? But I’m ever so grateful for all the thought you’ve put into this.”

  Sally, much relieved, rose and began to steer Norman toward the door. “You heard her. She don’t want you to do it. Now let’s leave her alone and let her get some rest.” It was plain that he had more to say, but he looked once at Holly, then reluctantly left the room.

  Outside, having heard it all, Roger Bonham hurried down the hall and entered his room before he was seen. Chest heaving with fury, he paced up and down. Damn that Negro! He wasn’t going to honor Holly’s request, either. Hell, no. Roger knew Norman Grady was going to be nosing around the cabin tonight. That was going to mess things up just fine. What better time than tonight for his men to get in and dig up some of the gold? But if Norman came around and discovered what was going on, it would spoil everything.

  Or would it? He stopped pacing and a slow, secretive smile spread across his face…

  He left his room a minute later and walked back down the hall to Holly’s room. He mustered his most pleasant expression before knocking and entering. “May I come in and see how you’re doing?”

  Holly glanced up and greeted him warmly. “Roger. How nice of you to come by. I was hoping I’d get a chance to say thank you for looking out for me.”

  He hurried over to press his lips against her outstretched hand, then gingerly touched her bruised cheek. “I only wish I’d gotten there sooner. I don’t ever want you hurt, Holly. And about
yesterday morning,” he rushed on, “I want to apologize. I had no right to blow up at you that way. It’s just that you’ve come to mean so much to me, and it hurt to feel you were rejecting me.”

  With all candor, she assured him rejection was not what she had in mind. “I want you for a friend, Roger. At this point, that’s all I want from you—or any other man. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings and I’m sorry if I did.”

  He nodded reluctantly, then grinned with the impishness of a small boy. “I warn you. I don’t give up easily. I’m going to make a real pest of myself. I’ll convince you I’m irresistible. I really am irresistible.”

  Holly laughed, delighted. “I already know that—just as I know I’m being stubborn. But will you be my friend?”

  Roger assured her there was no problem there. Then, acquiring a solemn expression, he glanced around the room before confiding, “There’s another reason I hope we can be close, Holly.” He shook himself as though in mental anguish. “It’s my father. I don’t altogether trust his motives where your mother’s concerned. I regret having to tell you this, but I fear for her happiness. I really do.”

  Clearly, he had struck a nerve. “Why, Roger?”

  Roger went through his paces, reciting the speech he’d rehearsed. “My father is a hypocrite who presents a front of being kind, generous. I know him for what he is. Ruthless. He never cared anything about me or my mother. I watched him mistreat her till she was a cowering shadow.”

  Holly shook her head from side to side in denial.

  Dropping his chin, Roger stared pensively at the floor. “I’m worried about how he’s going to treat Claudia. I want you to watch out for her as much as you can. I’ll do the same, of course. Not that there’s much we can do,” he finished mournfully.

  Holly could only hope this was an exaggeration. Children sometimes saw their parents in a very harsh light. “Thank you. Thank you for being my friend…and my mother’s.” Had she misjudged Roger? She gave him a genuine smile of thanks, and he nodded.

  “I’ll be on my way. Claudia said you were insisting on going to the party tonight, stubborn wench that you are.” He grinned fondly. “Get some sleep, my dear. You must be tired, and you’ve got a big weekend coming up.”