Slipping in the mud, Frederic closed the gap between the boat and himself. He drew close to the side squatting as Zeke faced his direction.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Zeke speaking again with the captain. His hands on the railing, he hoisted himself onto the deck. Water slickened the boards, and Frederic struggled to stay upright.
Moonlight bathed the boat illuminating Cora’s form where she slumped against the railing, her head lolling to the side. Frederic suppressed a gasp as he took note of her dreadful condition. Drool slipped from her lips, and her face carried the red mark of a handprint.
Hand over hand he made his way to her side. He scooped her into his arms then shot a glance over his shoulder, relaxing as he noted Zeke and his two men stared in the opposite direction. Soundlessly, Frederic slipped over the railing and carried Cora into the dense woods.
There was no trail and light barely permeated the thick branches hanging above. Roots covered the ground causing him to trip and stumble. Cora moaned and Frederic thanked the good Lord she was still alive.
"Just a little longer, my pet," he whispered.
The tree line parted onto a dirt road rutted by years of wagon travel. The recent rain caused the road to become a slippery, muddy mess.
Lights shone up ahead. A farmhouse loomed in the distance and where there was a farmhouse there would be a barn. It seemed like he was doomed to stay in the worst places while Cora remained his companion.
Sure enough, the dark shape across the yard turned out to be a barn. Frederic carried Cora inside and located the stall furthest from the door. Upon finding it empty, he kicked the door and entered. He laid Cora upon a soft patch of hay. The barn animals remained eerily silent as he moved about. Assured she was comfortable, he found a tack blanket hanging on the wall. He lay beside her and drew the cover over them. He really should try to rouse her, but his muscles didn't want to work. His head felt as heavy as a lead ball and his eyes refused to say open. His vision misted over and blackness reached up to claim him.
****
Sunlight peeped through the rafters and struck his face. Something poked his ribs and something wet stroked his cheek. He blinked. Above him stood a mere child, the mouth of his rifle butted against Frederic as a dog licked his face. Frederic lifted his hands to shield his eyes.
"What are ye doing in our barn?" asked the boy, a quiver to his voice.
Frederic tried to stand but the boy pushed him back with the gun. He raised his hands palms out. He swallowed and forced words passed his dry lips. "Forgive me for sheltering in your barn. My friend here was on a boat that rammed into the shore and she hit her head."
"And what are you doing lying next to her if she is just your friend?" asked the boy, his brow arched.
"I'm protecting her."
The boy gnawed his lip, and pointed the gun barrel in a different direction. "You can come in, Ma. I don't think they aim to harm us."
Frederic sat up and called, "No ma'am, I'm not out to harm anyone."
A woman, no more than thirty, entered the stall and stared at him. Soulful eyes filled most of her face. Long dirty blond hair lay across her shoulder.
He rose wobbly to his feet, casting a glance at Cora, before forcing his attention to his host. "I'm trying to help this young lady reach her family, but I believe she is a tad unlucky. Seems every time we get close to finding a mode of travel something happens and she winds up getting hurt."
The lady smiled, and held out her hand. "Welcome to Wiggins Farm. My name is Rosa. This here is my son, Donnie."
Frederic took her hand. "It is nice to meet you. I'm Francis and this is, hmm," he paused trying to find a name that Cora wouldn't balk and fuss about later. "Cordelia."
Rosa eyed him warily but she didn't tell them to leave, which was a good sign. "Are you hungry?" she asked.
"Yes, but I can't leave her."
"Of course not. Do you mind if I look at her?"
Cora's complexion was pale. Purple bruises dotted her face and upper arms. Rips and tears in her clothing exposed more injuries and Frederic stifled a groan.
"I can see you have deep feelings for this young woman. I promise not to harm her. I'm very good with herbs."
Frederic moved aside and gave Rosa room. She lowered the neckline of Cora's gown. Donnie blushed and turned away from Cora's supine form.
Cora moaned as Rosa applied pressure to several of her wounds. "I'm sorry, my lady. If you will give me just a moment, I will stop."
Cora rolled her head from left to right and Frederic moved toward her. Donnie stopped him. "Please allow my mother to assist. She will help your friend but you must give her a chance."
Rosa continued to survey the damage when she finished she said, "I believe I have a poultice in the house that will help your friend. Do you think you are strong enough to carry her inside?"
"Yes," he answered and scooped Cora into his arms. Her slight frame bent against him and he inhaled her normally intoxicating scent. Even though she was in less than stellar condition he couldn't get past her beauty.
Rosa directed him to a bedroom off the main hall and he cringed as he lowered Cora onto a homemade quilt.
"Did you hurt yourself, sir?"
"No, I just hate to ruin your quilt."
She smiled. "You cannot ruin it. This quilt has seen many injuries. The stains will wash clean."
He moved aside.
"If you don't mind, would you step into the hallway so I may remove the young lady's gown and clean her wounds before applying salve?"
"Yes, of course."
"Donnie will find you some clean clothing and something to eat."
The door clicked closed behind him and he looked around to find Donnie staring at him. "Come with me."
The young boy led him along the hallway to another room with a metal-framed bed. "Over the post you will find a set of clothing that should fit you. When you finish changing, I'll guide you to the kitchen."
Frederic closed the door and picked up the clothes. A fresh shirt and trousers graced the footboard. A new pair of socks and shoes poked from beneath the bed. He stripped. A bowl filled with water resided on a low table. Using an available rag, he wiped away the grime coating his body before putting on the outfit. He released a pent up breath. The mirror reflected a different man.
He left the room. Donnie waited in the hallway. He took Frederic's hand and drew him downstairs. The kitchen was separate from the main house. Wind tore at his pant legs as they walked beneath a shelter toward the kitchen.
"Ma just finished baking bread and roasting a pig." They entered the hot room. The boy filled him a plate of sliced ham and a piece of bread, complimented by a cool glass of fresh milk.
Frederic greedily drank the liquid and shoved the bread and ham into his mouth at the same time. The young boy smiled at him even as he refilled his plate.
"You look like a man who has seen many adventures."
"Some," said Frederic before placing another bite in his mouth.
"I want to ride off and join the military someday."
"That's a good way to have adventures," said Frederic fighting a smile.
"But my mother refuses to let me go."
"Why?"
"She says it is too dangerous."
"She is right about that. Many people join and never return home."
"Yes, like my pa. He left some time ago and never returned. I believe Indians got him but mother says that doesn't happen around these parts anymore. I think she believes he just ran off. But I don't believe that. Even if he couldn't handle farming, why would he leave me? I need him."
Tears pooled in the youngster's eyes and Frederic glanced away and studied his plate. He attempted to change the subject. "This food sure is good. Thank you for sharing with me. I don't have much to give in the way of money, but maybe there is something your mother needs fixing around the house that I could help with?"
The boy sucked in his cheeks, and blew out a loud puff of air. "I do m
ost of the fixing around here, but I'm sure Ma will think of something."
"Maybe you could give me a hint and then I can be ready to help her."
"The only thing I know she wants is another baby. Do you think you could help with that?"
Frederic choked on a bite of bread as a blood curdling scream came from the main house.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The chair fell backward and Frederic rushed from the kitchen into the main house. Agonized wails filled the hallway as he skidded to a halt before the open bedroom door.
Rosa peered over her shoulder, her face constricted into a deepening frown. "I promise I didn't hurt her."
Frederic dropped next to the bed and smoothed hair away from Cora's cheek. Her lids fluttered, and her eyes widened. She gasped and sat up straight, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're alive!"
He squeezed her and she grimaced in pain. "Sorry," he mumbled fighting a swell of tears rising in the back of his throat. He helped her lay back against the pillows and continued to hold her hand.
Her gaze flitted about the room. "Where am I?"
"This house belongs to a woman named Rosa and her son Donnie. She has been kind enough to let us stay here for a while. She was tending your wounds."
He hoped Rosa didn't hear the unspoken question in his voice. It wasn't that he didn't trust her — he didn't trust anyone. Too many times their attempt at escape had been thwarted. The kindly elderly couple, Mr. Monroe and his wife could have informed Zeke and the others of their departure in some kind of code and that was why there had been a midnight coach. Otherwise, how had Josh found them?
"Yes, she was tending my wounds."
"Are you all right?" he leaned forward and whispered against her lips.
She nodded. A sigh left her parted lips and he sat up. Elation over Cora's alertness mixed with his sense of distrust and worry.
Rosa said, "Let me give you some privacy. I will return with hot water."
"Thank you," said Frederic, offering her a kind smile.
She mimicked the expression and left the room. Hurriedly, Frederic whispered in Cora's ear, "Are you sure she didn't harm you?"
"Yes," she said, attempting to sit up again. Frederic helped and then offered her a glass of water. "Thank you."
"Cora, why did you scream?"
She blinked rapidly and studied him under half-closed lids. "She touched a tender spot."
He looked down and from her side protruded a piece of splintered wood. Blood oozed around the edges and Frederic fought to remain conscience.
"It will have to come out Frederic and when it does, well, I might not make it. I wa-want to write a letter first." He didn't speak and she added, "Frederic please, I need to write a letter to my family before she removes it. Do you understand?"
He nodded and squeezed her hand. "Before we do th-that," he swallowed and ran his free hand through his hair, "you must call me Francis."
She creased her brow. "Again?"
"Yes. And well," he tugged at the collar that suddenly seemed to be choking him. "You are Cordelia."
She shook her head and laughed under her breath which caused her to grimace. "When she returns just ask for some paper and a quill, all right?"
He managed a small nod glad that Cora had maintained a modicum of a sense of humor. Soon Rosa returned. With Donnie's help Frederic retrieved the items Cora had asked for. Each movement caused her face to twitch and her hand to tremble as if shafts of pain wafted through her pale frame, but she didn't stop writing. Finished, she folded the sheets and handed them to him.
"If for some reason I don't make it, please deliver these to Amelia."
"Of course," he said, his voice quivering with restrained emotion.
Rosa moved in front of him, and said, "Are we ready?"
Cora swallowed and nodded.
Rosa placed a stick between her teeth. Carefully, she moved the blanket aside and Cora winced. Frederic squeezed her hand. "I'm here."
Tears slipped along her cheeks and he wiped them away with the back of his knuckle.
"Now I'm going to wash around the area and then I'm going to slowly pull the object free. When it is out then I will see what more has to be done."
Cora nodded and bit the stick. When Rosa started to pull it free Cora bucked and Frederic released her hand.
Rosa yelled, "Donnie, Francis, hold her!"
It took two of them and still she threatened to kick them off onto the floor. Rosa proceeded slowly, inch by inch, pulling it free. Sweat beaded on Frederic's brow and his muscles burned from strain.
Between clenched teeth, he muttered, "Just jerk the thing out."
With one swift movement Rosa tugged the wooden sliver free. Cora's eyes rolled back in her head, and she went slack. Blood gushed from the wound and Rosa applied a hot damp cloth to staunch the flow.
Minutes passed and the rate decreased. Rosa bid Frederic to hold the cloth and she disappeared. Alone with Cora, Frederic bent over her face.
"I'm so sorry. I promise when you get better I will keep you safe and never let anything happen to you ever again."
Rosa returned and stuck a piece of hot metal into the fire.
Frederic's concern grew. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to sew the skin together and then cauterize the wound to make sure it doesn't get infected."
Frederic stomach contents churned. "I think I'm going to be sick."
"Then go outside," snapped Rosa as she examined the wound.
Frederic shook his head. "No, I said I would stay and I will. Just get on with it."
Hours later, Frederic sat beside the bed waiting for Cora to wake up.
****
Cora stood in the foyer and studied him. Tall and broad shouldered, his dark hair lay in a wave across his forehead. His green eyes glared at her as if she was a meaningless child. He cocked a brow and looked away.
Long after he left, he continued to fill her mind. In the study that afternoon she questioned her sister further.
"Amelia, who did you say those people were?" asked Cora.
"Someone named Josh Woods and Frederic something or other. They are from up North and wanted to ask me some questions."
"Oh, what about?" asked Cora wrapping a curl of hair around her finger.
"About someone I knew in South Carolina."
"You seemed concerned."
Amelia peered out the window and burst into tears.
The fuzzy images changed to her apartment in New York. Fire raged around her and she struggled to move, to find Frederic.
The bed squeaking woke her. She lifted her heavy lids.
Frederic slumped in a chair. But this wasn't her apartment, no, she was somewhere else. Logs cracked and popped in a white stone fireplace. The extra large four poster bed was swathed in white mesh. The heavy coverlet caused her to sweat and she moved to kick it off. The movement sent shafts of pain to her side and she placed her hand there.
She lifted her neck. A white bandage wrapped around her middle. She lay back against the pillow.
Frederic appeared and hovered over her. "You're awake," he whispered.
"Yes. What happened?" She licked her dry lips.
"You don't remember?" he asked, cocking his brow.
"Not really. Where are we? I'm not at home, am I?"
He shook his head.
"Then where?"
A bronzed skinned woman with long black hair entered followed by a young boy. He smiled and showed a row of missing teeth. The woman set a tray beside the bed and settled on the edge of the bed. "And how is our patient this morning?"
"Confused," she said, looking back and forth between her three visitors.
"That is to be expected. You've been asleep four days."
"Four days!" she said, grabbing her side and trying to sit up. Frederic held her down. She frowned. "What happened to me?" She glanced between the strange woman and Frederic but neither one of them answered.
The woman took the boy's hand. "Per
haps we should leave and allow Francis to explain. Come along Donnie."
The boy smiled in her direction as he followed the woman out of the room. She waited patiently but when Frederic didn't speak, her concern grew. So he was Francis again. What had happened for him to use his fake name? Fear clenched her heart and she widened her eyes.
"Is something wrong with me? Why won't you tell me what happened?"
"Do you remember anything?"
"I remember being in New York and you saving me from my apartment and I remember us trying to reach my home in Louisiana and something about a boat."
"Do you remember Josh, Zeke, and two others taking you from me and putting you on that boat?"
She struggled to remember. Flashes of images came to her. She closed her eyes to shut them out but they continued in rapid succession. The kidnapping, the imprisonment, the boat, the storm, the shipwreck, and then nothing. She opened her eyes.
"You do remember."
"I remember a shipwreck then nothing."
"During the confusion I was able to retrieve you from the boat. I found this house and barn and Rosa, the woman you just saw, helped you."
"Helped me?"
"You were injured," he looked away.
"And now?" She grasped his chin and turned him to face her.
He whispered, "I'm not sure."
She released him and clasped her hands in her lap. "What do you mean? Did she fix me or not?"
Frederic sighed and massaged his temples. "The wound appears to be healing nicely. You've stopped bleeding and there seems to be no infection, but–"
He stopped talking, grabbed a small framed painting from the fireplace mantel, and put it in front of her. "Do you recognize this person?"
She took it from his hands and studied it. The man in the painting had very white almost porcelain skin with dark hair and a long handle bar mustache. One arm was wrapped around Rosa who held a baby.
"I'm not sure. Who is he?"
"That is Rosa's husband."
"And?"
"And I have reason to believe he is the man who murdered Jeffers."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cora (Southern Hearts Book 3) Page 12
