The Bride Found

by Piper Davenport

  Clayton rose to his feet and held out his hand. “I know. It’s been a long and exciting day, but we’ll have more time tomorrow.”

  “How will that happen with Rose here?”

  He tweaked her nose. “I will work something out, Emma.”

  “When do you have to leave?”

  Clayton grimaced. “Soon. I received a wire today from Christopher. Now that Richard’s doing better, the President will not allow further leave.”

  Emma’s eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to tell you until tomorrow. I wanted to make tonight unforgettable.”

  She sighed and followed him into the foyer. “Well, you succeeded,” she grumbled.

  He slid his coat on and wrapped his scarf around his neck. “I’ll say goodnight here, sweet. It’s cold outside.”

  Emma raised her head for one of his unforgettable kisses and then he was gone.

  * * *

  The distant sound of gunfire brought Emma out of her slumber. Then her door flew open and Sophie’s voice cut through the rest of the fog. “Emma, get up.”

  “What’s wrong?” she rubbed her eyes and yawned.

  Sophie rushed to her bedside table and lit the lamp. “We’re not sure, but we need to get dressed and be ready for anything. Wear your jeans. We might need to make a quick run.”

  Emma pushed her fatigue away and jumped from the bed. Splashing water on her face helped a bit, and she threw her clothes on as fast as she could. Her heart raced, unused to being jarred awake by guns.

  “Emma, are you decent?” Jamie called from the hallway.

  “Yes. Come in.”

  He stepped inside and handed her a pistol.

  “Wh-what? Why?”

  “Point and shoot, Em. You’ll only get one chance. Try to remember that it pulls slightly to the right.”

  Emma’s hands trembled as he showed her how it worked. “Am I really going to need this?”

  “I hope not. Grab as many blankets as you can and follow me.”

  Emma slid the gun into the waistband of her jeans and pulled the quilts from her bed.

  Sophie bumped into her in the hallway, a bundle of bedding also in her hands. “We’re going to prepare the basement just in case we need shelter. There are escape options from there.”

  “What’s going on?” Emma’s voice shook and she tried to clear the fear away.

  “We don’t know. The guns aren’t supposed to come this close. It’s possible rebels have broken through the Union lines.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. Just follow Jamie’s lead. We’ll figure it out together.”

  Emma grabbed Sophie’s arm. “Jamie’s a CEO, not a freakin’ Green Beret!”

  “Shh,” Sophie hissed. “I understand you’re scared, but remember where you are.” Sophie softened her tone. “Follow me, sissy. We’ll be fine.”

  Emma nodded and forced back her tears. She followed Sophie down the stairs and toward the back of the house. The stairway to the basement had two entrances: one outside underneath storm doors, and one in the kitchen. A group of servants headed for the kitchen and the girls followed.

  Maneuvering down the dark narrow steps was difficult at best, but with her hands full of blankets, Emma found it especially hairy. She bumped into Sophie as she took the next steps and heard her sister’s frightened gasp. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I caught myself.”

  Emma grimaced. “Do you know where you’re going?”

  “Sort of.”

  Emma frowned. “Great.”

  Mary’s voice cut through the grumbles of the staff as Emma stepped off the last step. “Blankets over here, please.”

  Mary Jones was the Wade’s cook and could only be described as a genius with food. She was tall and thin, and Emma had agreed with Sophie’s opinion that she reminded her of a flamingo. She had the countenance of a strict governess and her dark brown hair, peppered with gray, added to the severe persona.

  Emma couldn’t see in front of her feet, so she had no idea where “over here” was. Before she could ask, her arms were relieved of her burden and she was staring up into the face of Clayton. She let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

  He handed the blankets off to one of the staff and then led her to a somewhat secluded corner of the basement. “I can’t stay, sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

  She grabbed his hand. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re not entirely certain. If you are instructed to come down here for shelter, do not leave until I collect you.”

  “But—”

  He squeezed her hand. “Emma, promise me.”

  She nodded. “I promise, but what are you going to do?”

  “Clayton!” Jamie called.

  Clayton kissed her cheek quickly. “I have to go. Stay with Sophie.”

  He took off toward the storm door entrance and rushed up the stairs. Emma glanced around the room and located her sister standing at the bottom of the stairs, ushering people to where they needed to be. Emma joined her. “What can I do?”

  “Find out from Mary if she’s gathered enough food and water for everyone, please.”

  “Okay.” Emma turned and made her way to Mary, who was giving orders to a few of the maids. “Mary?”

  “Yes, Miss Wellington.”

  “Sophie wants to be sure you have all the food and water that you need.”

  Mary nodded. “We’ll be fine for several days.”

  Emma gasped. “Several days? You don’t really think it’ll come to that?”

  “One can certainly hope not.”

  Emma’s heart raced. “Well, if you need help with anything, please let me know.”

  “Sally – put those candles over there, not where we can start a fire,” Mary snapped and rushed to assist the maid.

  “I’ll just be over here, then. In the corner. Counting the cobwebs,” Emma grumbled and sat down on an upturned crate.

  Sophie joined her a few minutes later and held out her hand. “The snow’s started, so it’s going to get much, much colder. Let’s hang out in the parlor. The fire’s been stoked, and I’ll bet Mary’s organized something yummy to eat.”

  Emma gave a half-smile and stood. “Okay.”

  Sophie led her up the stairs and into the main hallway. “How are you holding up?”

  Emma shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I wish I knew what was going on.”

  “You never were good with surprises.”

  Emma snorted. “We’re calling this a surprise situation?”

  “Maybe not. I know how you feel. The staff have everything under control, so we just get to sit back and be good little girls, which means, don’t interfere.”

  Emma sighed. “Where’s Nona?”

  “She’s probably directing traffic… or planning a party of some kind for when this is over.” Sophie took her hand and squeezed. “Everything’s going to be fine, Em. It’s probably nothing, and the guys will have it all sorted before we know it.”

  “Jamie’s optimism is rubbing off on you.”

  Sophie sniggered. “Not really. I’m just trying to say something positive out loud. Secretly, I think these men are going to burn the house down.”

  Emma groaned as they stepped into the parlor. “Let’s hope we get out before that happens.”

  “Sophie?”

  Sophie grabbed Emma’s hand and squeezed as they both stalled at the sound of Topper’s voice from the other side of the room.

  “Topper! What are you doing here?” Sophie rushed to the window.

  “Those men are after me.” Topper slid from behind a heavy curtain. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “I hid in the silo at the edge of town.”

  Emma gasped. “I was right.”

  “You better not have done this just to make your uncle angry.” Sophie grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the window. He started to
sit down, but Sophie shook her head. “You’re filthy, bud. Nona will kill you if you get dirt on her settee.”

  Emma smiled sympathetically. “Are you hungry?”

  Topper nodded. “Starved.”

  “I’ll fix you a plate.”

  Sophie squeezed his chin. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.” Topper leaned away from her hand. “Just hungry.”

  Sophie crossed her arms. “You could have been killed, Christopher. What were you thinking?” He shrugged and Sophie narrowed her eyes. “You’re going to have to start talking now. I’m not going to let you keep a secret that causes all this chaos. When Jamie gets back, you’re going to tell him everything.”

  “It won’t make any difference.”

  “If you’re in danger, he can help…” she raised a finger in accusation, “…and if this was just a game to irritate your uncle, then that’ll be an entirely different conversation.” Sophie flopped onto the sofa. “You cannot wish this away.”

  Emma handed Topper a plate. “Here you go.”

  Topper smiled. “Thank you, Emma.”

  A door crashing just outside the parlor brought Sophie to her feet.

  “Tear the house up, men! Find him!” a loud voice boomed.

  TOPPER SWORE AND dropped his plate on the side table. Sophie grabbed his arm. “In here.” She led him to an oversized piece of furniture that had two doors at the bottom.

  Topper raised an eyebrow. “I’ll never fit in that.”

  “Check the parlor!”

  “Get in there,” Emma hissed.

  Topper forced his body inside the tiny space and Sophie closed the doors. She turned the key in the lock and dropped it into her pocket. Just as she stepped away from Topper’s hiding place, the parlor door flew open.

  A large man in a Confederate uniform raked his eyes over each one of them slowly.

  Sophie let out a squeal and rushed to her sister. “What do you want with us?”

  “Tell me where the boy is,” the man demanded.

  “What boy?” Emma stood taller and tried not to notice the angry scar down the man’s face. Or his cohort. She felt sick.

  His bearded lip stretched across crooked teeth in a sinister sneer. “The boy y’all are hiding.”

  Sophie squeezed Emma’s hand. “There’s no one else in here. I don’t know what boy you’re referring to.”

  He waved his pistol to the left. “Move away from the window, ladies.”

  Emma stepped slightly in front of Sophie as they did as he asked.

  “Check every inch of this room,” the soldier drawled. “Destroy it if you have to.”

  Seconds passed before one of the men made his way to the cabinet. He jiggled the door and turned to the officer. “The doors are locked, Lieutenant.”

  The lieutenant waved the gun at Emma. “Open it.”

  Emma swallowed. “I can’t.”

  He stepped forward. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  Emma tried a nonchalant shrug, despite the fear coursing through her veins. “The cabinet is usually locked,” she lied. “I don’t have a key.”

  “Well, who does?”

  Sophie stepped out from behind Emma. “Only the lady of the house and perhaps one of the maids. But you can’t really think he would hide in there… how would he fit?”

  He moved to stand in front of the girls. “Well, now, y’all seem quite nervous. Perhaps you’re hiding him somewhere else.”

  “We’re nervous because you’re waving guns at us,” Emma snapped. “You’ve checked the room. The person you’re looking for isn’t here.”

  “Maybe there’s valuables in that cabinet.” He turned to the soldier who’d discovered it. “Break it open.”

  “No!” Sophie rushed toward it.

  “Turn around slowly with your hands in the air.”

  Emma’s focus went to the parlor door. Clayton and Jamie stood with pistols drawn, Andrew and Richard directly behind them.

  Clayton glanced at her and then back at the lieutenant. “I said, put your hands in the air.”

  The lieutenant took a deep breath, but before he could react, Clayton had closed the distance and aimed his gun at his heart. “You try to move and you’ll be dead before you twitch.”

  The man knew he was outgunned. He dropped his pistol and directed his men to do the same. While Clayton and Jamie kept guns on the men, Richard and Andrew tied their hands and led them out of the house.

  Clayton holstered his pistol and pulled Emma into his arms. “Are you all right?”

  Tears streamed down her face. “They didn’t hurt us.”

  He stroked her cheek. “Are you certain?”

  She nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Yes, I’m fine, Clayton.”

  Sophie rushed to the cabinet and unlocked it. Topper slid from his hiding place and began to take deep breaths.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” Jamie snapped.

  “Jamie,” Sophie admonished and rubbed Topper’s back. “Are you okay?”

  Topper nodded. “Yes, I think so. I tried not to make any noise.”

  “You did great,” Sophie assured him.

  “I think I might have broken a few of my aunt’s plates.”

  “We’ll deal with that later. I would imagine she won’t mind.” Sophie groaned. “I’m sorry I thought you were playing a game.”

  Topper shrugged.

  Jamie grabbed the nape of his neck. “You have some explaining to do, son.”

  “Ow, Jamie.” Topper tried to move his head away. “I’ll tell you everything, I swear.”

  “One question. Were you in trouble, or were you playing a game?”

  “That’s two questions,” Topper retorted.

  “Christopher Aaron Wade,” Sophie snapped.

  Jamie glared at him.

  Topper sighed. “I was in trouble. I thought I could handle it myself.”

  “We’ll discuss it shortly. I need to assist with the prisoners. These were the last of the rebels.” Jamie released Topper’s neck and gave him a slap on the back of the head.

  “Ow!”

  “Don’t go anywhere.” Jamie pulled Sophie close. “I’m sorry we didn’t stop them soon enough.”

  “We’re fine,” Sophie assured him. “Take care of what you need to and then hurry back.”

  Jamie nodded but didn’t seem willing to let her go.

  Emma’s legs grew weak and she suddenly couldn’t breathe. Clayton’s arms tightened around her waist and he guided her onto the sofa. “Emma?”

  Deep breaths only seemed to make it worse.

  Clayton hunkered down in front of her. “Tell me.”

  Sophie rushed to Emma. “Em? What’s wrong?”

  “He…” breath, “he…” breath, “he watched me.”

  “She’s hyperventilating.” Sophie sat next to her on the couch and rubbed her back. “Who watched you, love?”

  Emma bent forward and wrapped her arms around her waist. “He… the man with the scar…”

  Clayton scowled. “The man with the scar watched you?”

  Emma nodded.

  “Where did he watch you?” Clayton demanded.

  “Clayton.” Emma grimaced. “I need to talk to Jamie and Sophie alone. Can you please give us a minute?”

  “Emma,” he whispered. “You can tell me.”

  She pulled her hand away. “I can’t, Clayton. Please.”

  He stood slowly, confusion written in the tight features of his face, and left the room. Jamie stood above her and crossed his arms.

  Sophie took her hand. “Who was watching you?”

  Emma took a shaky breath. “The man… the one with the scar. He watched the house.”

  Jamie raised an eyebrow. “Emma, that man has never been on this property. If he had, one of us would know.”

  Emma groaned in frustration. “Not this house.”

  Sophie gasped, her lips parting. “You mean…?”

  Emma nodded. “Yes. Our house.”
r />   Jamie swore and knelt down beside her. “Tell me everything.”

  Emma twisted her hands in the material of her skirts, trying to focus on something other than passing out. “There has been a car… actually, a couple of cars… that have been watching the house. I thought it was the FBI, because of everything that happened with you, Jamie, but now I’m not so sure.” Emma stood and started to pace. “I am such an idiot!”

  Sophie rose to her feet. “Why, sissy?”

  “I felt safe, Sophie. I thought it was the good guys watching me… following me.” Emma sank to her knees and tried again to catch her breath.

  Emma vaguely registered the sound of the door opening and mumbled voices, before strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. “Emma.”

  She burst into tears and clung to Clayton as he carried her to the couch. “Shh, sweet. Tell me.” It took several minutes for her to calm, and despite her attempts to push him away he wouldn’t release her.

  Emma took another deep breath as Clayton settled them on the sofa and wiped her cheeks. “I’m okay. Really. I just had a scare.”

  He pulled a footstool over to the sofa and sat in front of her. Grasping her hands, he kissed her palms and smiled gently. “Are you certain that’s all it is?”

  Emma nodded. “Yes.” She nodded again. “You have to go. They’re waiting for you.”

  “Emma, I don’t want to leave you like this.” He handed her his handkerchief.

  She pushed to her feet and held her hand out to him. “I’m fine.”

  “Mr. Madden?” A sergeant stood in the doorway and removed his hat. “We need your assistance, sir.”

  Clayton slowly stood and took Emma’s hand, pulling her close. “We’ll return as soon as we can. Will you be all right?”

  “Yes, Clayton. These are tears of victory.” Emma forced a smile. “Go. I’m fine.”

  Clayton reluctantly left her and joined the men milling in the foyer.

  * * *

  Sun streamed into the parlor. The morning greeted them with fresh snow-covered ground that sparkled when the rays of light hit the ground. Clayton and Jamie had returned an hour ago and dragged Topper into the library for a conversation he’d resisted for all of five minutes.

  Sophie had promised Jamie she’d go back to bed, but Emma was too pent-up to sleep so she stayed in the warm room and paced. Now she stood, mesmerized by the winter scene outside.