Harris Channing

by In Sarah's Shadow

  "Enjoy the view," he spat as she gazed forward, practically blind to the peaks that reached heavenward. "For this time tomorrow you'll be hidden away with your family. No light will ever touch your eyes again."

  She struggled against him, desperate for freedom. Yes, she'd roll to her death if it came to that, but he would not use her to harm David. Twisting in his grip, she shoved at him with her free arm, but he was as immovable as the mountain.

  Spinning her around, he pressed her back hard against his body, the pistol to her head. "You are coming home with me. You are going to have dinner at my table and lie contentedly in my bed." His words hissed in her ears and she stilled. "And maybe if you're a good little girl I'll keep you alive long enough to say goodbye to David. If not, I'll see that he finds you splayed upon the floor."

  She wanted to scream, to cry out, but she didn't know what to say. The options were enraging him further or sobbing and she'd be damned if she allowed him to witness the latter.

  "Now, walk to the house. Do not make another stupid move or I will put a bullet in the back of your head."

  Dread flared through her as she took her first tentative steps down the path but at the sound of Alfred's bark she stopped. Reg too, skittered to a halt. "That god damned beast," he muttered, his tone dripping with loathing. "If I get the chance, I'll kill it."

  As the dog raced around the bend below, she heard the sickening click of a bullet entering the chamber. Reg's arm extended over her shoulder to fire on the dog. With his attention fixed upon Alfred, she seized the moment to grab hold of his elbow and push the weapon upward. The gun fired, the sound so loud that her ears hummed. But she didn’t let go of his arm. No, she clung to it as if her life depended on it. Because, she realized, it did.

  ***

  "Damnation," David cursed. What the hell was going on? Was Reg trying to start a blasted avalanche? That was two shots fired in less than a fifteen minute time frame. Whatever was going on, it wasn't good.

  Alfred had disappeared up the mountain beyond Crocker's cabin, and a sickening fear flared to life in the pit of David's stomach. For some inexplicable reason, his worry turned toward Bobbie.

  Dismounting Ned, he followed the dog's tracks upward and with dread saw not only the large, heavy imprint of a man's boot, but the smaller, lighter indention of a woman's. His anxiety increased and with determination, he raced up the mountainside. At yet another gun blast and the sound of Bobbie's sharp cry, he realized that she was close. Perhaps just beyond the next bend. He slowed his pace but his mind raced. His instincts told him to speed into the fray with guns blazing, but logic and his soldier's mind had him slowing. It did no good to charge up like the cavalry.

  "Alfred!" Bobbie yelled, the dog's bark suddenly echoed through the air and continued as if sounding an alarm. An alarm fierce with a hatred David understood only too well. Taking advantage of the dog's distraction, he hid behind a stony outcropping and peered at the scene before him. His stomach plummeted.

  Bobbie struggled with Crocker for control of the gun, Alfred bounded around the pair jumping and lunging as if he were looking for the perfect opportunity to strike.

  With his adrenaline pulsing through him, David knew that charging forward was the only thing to do. If he waited too long, Reg would gain full advantage for despite her health, youth and strength, Bobbie was no match for the man.

  Springing forward, David angled his body to collide with Reg's. Upon impact the threesome fell backward, Bobbie and David using Crocker's body as a cushion. The sound of air escaping the villain's lungs as they landed was like music to David's ears.

  Bobbie jumped to her feet and surged toward Alfred, calming him until his barks quieted to a low, threatening growl.

  "Thank God you came," she said, her breathing labored, her voice cracking with shock and sorrow. "He killed them."

  "I know," David mumbled, taking the pistol and shoving the barrel under Reg's chin.

  "H-He was in on killing Sarah too…and he only just killed Henry."

  David cocked the pistol. "You're a right menace, aren't you?" he asked coolly, intending to scatter the man's brains all over the mountainside.

  Reg's face blanched white and his pale eyes grew wide with terror. "Please," he groveled, the sound sickening. "I was desperate and jealous. I loved her and she betrayed my love."

  "Wrong," David hissed. "She betrayed me." His finger lay heavy on the trigger but instead of ending it right then and there, he stood, his aim never wavering from his intended target. "Now, get your sorry ass up."

  With a prowess that David didn't expect, Reg lunged forward, his head colliding with David's legs, knocking him back. Crocker sprang to his feet his fists raised in menace.

  "Mistake," David shouted as he discharged the weapon. The bullet ripped open Reg's shoulder and sent him stumbling toward the edge of the precipice. Blood gushed from the wound yet he seemed unfazed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small derringer.

  David set his finger on the trigger. With a snarl, Alfred heaved forward, his powerful paws jettisoning into the man’s midsection.

  “Shit,” David said, lowering the gun.

  Reg cried out, stumbling backward, his arms flailing. "Help me!"

  Too late. The man tumbled down the side of the mountain.

  A gasp of surprise escaped David's lips. Bobbie stood frozen in place, her gaze pinned to the mountain edge. With a yelp, Alfred ambled toward him, once again pressing his forehead into his thigh.

  Bobbie rushed forward and fell to her knees beside David. "Thank God you came when you did." She coated his face with soft, gentle kisses and he laughed.

  "Don't thank me. Thank Alfred."

  Aiding him to his feet, the pair inched toward the path's edge and gazed down the cliff side. Reg rested on a narrow ridge below, his unseeing eyes staring forward, his body twisted in the most unnatural of positions.

  Epilogue

  Autumn, 1873

  White Springs, Tennessee

  His father's house seemed more like a prison than a plantation. All the trappings of a man who lived well off the land surrounded him, and yet he felt trapped…

  Damnation, how was it circumstance and tradition once again held him in a firm grip?

  "Why the devil do I have to sit here when all I want to do is be with my wife?" David squeezed the arm of the leather wingback and glowered at his father. "She's having my baby and I'm left to wonder what's going on."

  James Henderson stood from behind his mahogany desk and offered his son an understanding nod, his wrinkled jowls lifting into a grin. "Do you really want to see her suffering?" He lifted a glass of bourbon to his lips and took a long swallow. "Besides, the baby is going to come whether or not you're gawking."

  David pushed up from his chair, and stalked toward the marble hearth, his footfalls quieted by the imported carpet. "Had I known I was going to be shoved aside after taking her from our home in town, I would have stayed put. But Mother insisted the baby be born here and Roberta acquiesced."

  "Your mother and May are quite capable of--"

  "We should have never left Colorado," he declared all the while know how very foolish he sounded.

  "And what would you have done? Delivered the child yourself?" His father sank down upon the settee and stretched his feet out in front of him, his display completely void of etiquette. David shook his head. His mother would have had a fit had she witnessed the man's lack of decorum, or how much bourbon he had ingested.

  Glancing at the half empty decanter, David sighed and was again glad to be free of the drink. Although God knew he could use one at this particular moment.

  "Damn it," he mumbled. He'd not touch a drop. Never again, would he allow his weakness to destroy his strengths. He watched his father empty the glass, wondering if perhaps, he too, had a problem.

  "What's the matter now, son?"

  David shoved his fingers through his hair. "If May or Mother don't make an appearance soon, I'll be heading to our
room."

  His anxiety flared and small streams of perspiration trickled from his hairline as again he began to wear a path. He'd been locked away for near two hours. Two hours without seeing Bobbie? Damnation that was probably the longest they'd been apart since leaving the cabin.

  "Your mother labored with you for the better part of a day. Just calm down."

  Agitation had him biting his tongue. His father couldn't possibly understand his connection to Bobbie. Their love was more than just simple affection. They practically breathed for each other.

  "I can't calm down, not until I know she's all right. Women die in childbirth all the time…" He curled his hands into fists. Damnation, he couldn’t believe he had actually blurted out his worst nightmare.

  "Yes, son," James said leaning forward and setting his elbows on his knees. "But Bobbie is strong and of sound stock. I see no reason to worry about losing her." He shook his head and rising, set a comforting hand upon David's shoulder. "I approve of her. She is what you need, what you've always needed."

  David relaxed and gazed upon the old man, his support and kind words reassuring.

  "I thank God she brought you home to us."

  At the gentle rap on the parlor door, David's nerves damned near screamed. Without thought, he rushed to the door and pulled it open. May stood before him, her soft brown eyes smiling.

  "She wants you, bad," May said. "Never saw a woman push the way your Bobbie did."

  His heart thrummed with pride. "She's all right?"

  "That she is." May turned and just as he did as a child, he followed her. Dear God, but she seemed slow as they marched down the long hallway and toward the stairs. Oh, how he itched to take the lead. "And she has got a surprise for you."

  "The baby is well?" He paused by the staircase, his hand clenching tight to the walnut railing. But he knew the answer even before he asked. For if there had been something wrong, he would have been able to read it all over May's face. She wore her emotions like some women wore rouge.

  "Yes, sir. Everyone is fine. Everyone is happy. Tired but very, very happy!" Her singsong voice soothed him but a little, and mounting the steps, he rushed past his mammy and to his wife. His entire body trembled with anxious excitement and breathlessly, he barged into the room.

  With only the dim light from the curtained window to guide him, he should have slowed his pace, but he couldn't. He was far too damned nervous for that.

  Taking in a deep breath, he sped across the Persian carpet to toward the four-poster bed. For despite May's words of assurance, his worry would not be fully appeased. Not until he witnessed that Bobbie was all right with his own two eyes.

  "David Henderson!" With her back to him, his mother cast an angry glance over her shoulder, her expression one of disgust. Would the woman never stop treating him like a child?

  "Yes, Grandmother Amelia," he teased, knowing that despite her prudish mannerism, his mother loathed the idea that she was actually old enough to be someone's grandmother.

  "You can't come in here like a wild cur," she scolded. "Slow down. Bobbie is quite exhausted."

  "I'm all right," Bobbie called from the bed, her voice soaked with fatigued.

  She lifted her hand and ignoring his mother, he fell to his knees at the bedside. "You're all right. Truly?"

  Her face glistened with perspiration, and her eyes drooped. "Yes. I'm fine and completely in love with not only my husband, but my children."

  He stroked her hair and leaning in, pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Where’s the baby? Do I have a son or a daughter?"

  Squeezing his hand the smallest of giggles popped from her chapped lips. "Do you have a preference?"

  It was good to hear her laugh and his heart swelled with affection. "We discussed that yesterday, remember?"

  "I do. But I'm just making certain."

  "As long as you and the baby are well, I'm completely and utterly satisfied. Gender makes no difference."

  "Well, that is good." Bobbie moaned as she slowly turned her face toward Amelia. "Mother Henderson, will you present David with his first born child?"

  Amelia turned, her arms filled with a small bundle. Dark hair peeked from beneath the white linen blanket and joy flowed from deep within his gut as he rose to his feet. His child. Finally, he would meet the product of his and Bobbie’s love.

  "I'd like to call her Charlotte, after my mother."

  "Charlotte, yes I like that. So, I've a daughter," he said, his words coming in an excited rush. "May I hold her? Look into her eyes?"

  "You may," Amelia replied coming around the bed and setting the child in his eager arms.

  She was so tiny, she barely weighed a thing. At the sight of her, his breath caught in his throat. The delicate face, the healthy plump cheeks, the dark locks of hair. She was absolutely the most beautiful baby in the world. With his pride surging, an overpowering feeling took hold. This was his daughter, his precious baby girl. He would be her father and guardian. He would never see her harmed or heartbroken. "Oh, Bobbie." He looked at his wife through tears. "She takes my breath away."

  "Mine, too. Look at her curls, they are directly from you."

  "I think you're right." He chuckled. "But her lovely mouth, that solely comes from you."

  "Hmm, I'll have to see that for myself." She lifted her hands. "Now, may I hold her while your mother introduces you to your son?"

  He leaned over and set Charlotte in Bobbie's waiting arms, his mind not quite registering her statement. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

  "I said, I am in love with my children and I would like you to meet our son."

  His head grew light as he lowered himself on the edge of the bed. "Two? You gave birth to two babies?"

  "That she did," Amelia inserted, scuttling to the other side of the bed. Once there, she bent over the small wooden cradle and upon rising, she carried with her another bundle. This one whimpered before emitting the smallest of cries. "This is your son," she announced, her face glowing with grandmotherly affection. "As I understand it, he is the spitting image of Bobbie's father."

  David watched as his mother once again placed a child in his arms. The boy looked up at him with the wisest of expressions, his pale hair almost transparent. Staring at his son, David smiled and turned his full attention on his wife.

  "What did you want to call him, Bobbie?" Tears rolled down her cheeks and melancholy seemed to crease her precious features. Fresh worry quivered through him. "What's the matter?"

  "I very much miss my kin," she said. "I've accepted the loss but at moments of great pain or pleasure, I want to share."

  "Roberta," Amelia said, coming to her daughter-in-law's side and squeezing her hand. "I know that I could never replace your dear mother and the Lord above knows James could never be a true father, but we would like to try."

  "Thank you," Bobbie responded, her words coming out on a sob and yet she smiled. "I do feel as though I have found a family in David's."

  Amelia wiped away Bobbie's tears. "And I have the daughter I have always longed for." With that, she stood. "Now, I'll be leaving you two to decide what to call our boy."

  "Mother," David called, as Amelia stepped into the hallway. She turned.

  "Yes, son?"

  "Thank you."

  She nodded her head. "It is truly my pleasure." With that, she closed the door and once again, he focused on his family.

  The baby opened his mouth to yawn and David realized how tired he was and his heart ached for Roberta. "Our little man is sleepy and I imagine his mother is, too."

  "I am," she admitted, smoothing Charlotte's cheek. "But before I rest, I need to know what to call him."

  "Ah, yes." David raised a thoughtful brow and as if struck by a bolt of lightning, he knew. "Robert Shallcross Henderson."

  "David," she whispered, her tone laced with gratitude. "You are a very thoughtful man."

  "With Charlotte and Robert by your side, you will always feel as though your mother, father, and brother live in our
children."

  Fresh tears rolled from her eyes and the love that showed deep within her gaze had him leaning over to kiss her. She tasted sweeter than ever, for the feelings that burst within him soared to levels he never knew existed.

  "Thank you, Roberta," he said, his voice a husky whisper.

  For not only had she given him the gift of happiness, she had saved his life. He was finally the man he ought to be, all thanks to a woman he should never have met, but was destined to love.

  THE END

  ####

  About the author:

  An Army brat, Harris Channing traveled around the Southern US and Europe as a child before settling in Tennessee as an adult. Married with two children, she enjoys her family, reading, writing, and gardening.

  Discover other titles by Harris Channing at Smashwords.com:

  The Demon" is in the Details, a Mainstream Romance

  Cream and Sugar, an Erotic Short Story

  The Cannoli Factor, a Short and Sweet Story

  An Unwilling Baroness, a Regency Romance

  His for the Taking, A Regency Romance

  Curses and Kisses, an Erotic Short Story

  For more information about Harris and her work visit her website at

  www.harrischanning.com