Promise Me Forever

by Janelle Taylor

  “Probably because we’re old friends.” Dan was confused. Since Rachel was a clever actress and cunning murderess, she shouldn’t make the mistake of using the past tense so often when she talked about Phillip. Why did she?

  They finished their meal as the conductor yelled, “Awl-la-board!”

  Dan put away the leftovers and napkins, but refilled their glasses with pale-red wine. “To an interesting and successful journey together,” he toasted, then tapped his glass against hers.

  “I hope it will be,” she concurred, and smiled at him. She relaxed in the comfortable seat, sipped the wine, and viewed the landscape.

  The Coastal Plain of the lower part of Georgia was flat in most areas. As they journeyed toward Augusta, the terrain began to alter. Hills with gentle rolls and fertile valleys appeared and increased in frequency. The soils changed colors where the hard brown or red clays of the northern section met with the sandy yellow and gray ones of the southern section. They crossed tree- and vine-shrouded streams and rushing rivers that wound through the land like wriggling snakes. Wildflowers and bushes bloomed and displayed new cloaks of verdant leaves. Forests of pine— some tall and slender, others short and thick, both laden with brown cones—and hardwoods of oak, maple, poplar, hickory, and scattered dogwood ran for miles along the tracks and for miles backward from the front rows. Recently planted fields of cotton, tobacco, corn, and vegetables showed green sprouts in their fertile brown beds. The train moved past houses, farms, barns, pastures, stock, workers, and dirt roads. Soon they would arrive at their first destination.

  Augusta… Where Savannah was comparable to a genteel lady, Augusta was like a child—busy, impatient, eager, growing constantly, ever-altering, but always retaining some of its original appearance and traits.

  Phillip had told her it was the primary manufacturing city in Georgia, was the first inland trade center, and one of the state’s largest cities. Named for Princess Augusta, mother of King George III, it was nestled against the Savannah River. Because the winters there were short and mild, it was a resort for northerners and rich inland planters. Augusta was a rail center, large cotton market, and a textile giant with her numerous mills, factories, and foundries.

  As the train slowed at the edge of town, they went over rolling hills and through verdant flatlands. They moved past open spaces of rusty-red dirt and areas crowded with pines. They saw mills on both sides— some as high as five stories, their chimneys making them appear even higher. Twice the tracks crossed the city canal system that furnished the companies with power.

  They reached Union Station on schedule, a huge complex of buildings that covered many blocks. The train halted inside a large depot with wooden platforms and wide windows.

  Rachel wondered if Dan noticed her trembling, both from his touch as he helped her descend the train and from the task that loomed before her.

  “I’ll get a porter to bring our luggage out front. Wait for me there.”

  “I’ll hail a carriage and be ready to leave when you join me.”

  Rachel walked outside and glanced around. Plenty of public carriages were nearby, as well as private ones and wagons waiting for freight. She caught one driver’s eye and motioned him to her. He reined his team and jumped down beside her. “My companion is claiming our luggage,” she informed him. “We’re staying at the Planter’s Hotel on Broad.”

  Dan and the porter joined them and the men loaded the baggage. Dan tipped the man, thanked him, then assisted Rachel into the carriage and climbed in behind her. When they were settled, the driver clicked his tongue and flicked the reins to urge the horses into motion.

  The carriage headed up Campbell Street. When they reached Greene, Rachel pointed to a structure in the middle of the intersection of the next block. “Look at that, Dan.” The driver halted a minute for them to get a good view.

  “George lives nearby. He said it’s called Big Steve. They ring it for fires and other emergencies. The tower is five stories high and the bell in the cupola weighs six thousand pounds. I wonder what it would feel like to climb all those winding steps and look out over the city.”

  “About as scary for you as it would be exciting,” he responded. Dan had scaled riggings much higher than the bell tower, a few times even while swaying in bad weather. It always gave him a surge of power and burst of heady stimulation to see his sleek ship and the rolling sea far below him.

  “While we’re here, we must see the sights.”

  “That sounds nice,” he agreed, but was miffed by her cheery mood when she was a recent widow.

  The carriage moved on toward the hotel. The streets were wide; some were paved with cobblestone and Belgian blocks. In the middle of many of them were lovely parks or landscaped areas. Azaleas and other flowers were in full bloom. Trees—redbuds, pines, magnolias, dogwoods, and assorted hardwoods—also lined the sidewalks. They saw lovely homes in Victorian, Classic Revival, Greek, and Georgian architecture. Occasionally upper porches were shaded and decorated by entwining wisteria.

  The carriage reached Broad and the driver halted until he could cross the street which was congested with wagons, carriages, riders, and walkers. It was aptly named, as twenty wagons could sit side by side in its great width. Brick-and-wood buildings two and three stories high stood shoulder to shoulder in both directions; some displayed balconies where owners lived above their businesses. Telegraph poles stretched out along one side on Broad, and lampposts lined both sides. Two blocks down and six blocks up in the middle of the street were two city markets, one with a large cupola that held a giant clock that revealed the time as ten minutes past five.

  When it was clear, the driver urged his team across the tracks of the horse-drawn city trolley and turned left. They rode half a block to the corner of Macarton Street where the Planter’s Hotel was located.

  Dan’s alert senses detected the nearness of the Savannah River, two blocks away.

  “I hope this hotel will suit you, Dan.”

  “It looks impressive,” he said, noticing that it filled the width of the block.

  Rachel looked at the large structure. A street-level veranda stretched across the front and down one side. Above it, a porch offered guests a tranquil area for relaxing, with one side covered to provide shade in hot weather or cover during a shower. “We should take third-floor rooms if possible. That way, our rest won’t be disturbed by talkative late strollers.”

  Dan paid the driver after he returned from carrying their baggage inside. The man flashed him a toothy grin for the large tip and left.

  “You mustn’t keep paying for everything, Dan. I have my own money.”

  “It wasn’t much; it won’t ruin me,” he jested, then grasped her elbow and guided her to the registration desk. “Two of your best rooms, preferably on the top floor and side by side, please.”

  While the clerk studied his book, Rachel glanced around. The lobby was all done in polished oak with matching pillars for ceiling support; clustered around them were sitting areas for socializing with friends, with business associates, or with strangers who needed to be welcomed in the proper southern style.

  “Three-eleven and three-twelve are available, sir. Ten dollars a day, including breakfast. We have the finest dining room in town with reasonable prices and delicious meals. How long will you be staying with us?”

  Dan looked at Rachel for the answer.

  “One week, please. We’ll leave on Monday, the fifth of April.” She watched the clerk record the dates, but didn’t look at her companion.

  Dan was surprised by her response, as it was a long stay just to carry out simple business. He’d know her motive soon, because he didn’t plan to let her out of his sight except to sleep and dress, or not at all if she decided he would make an excellent victim number four. Under the grim circumstances, that wouldn’t be a betrayal of his brother. Yet he assumed she would not pursue him or another man until she found a safe way to expose her husband’s death—unless, of course, she was so confident and
bold that she would do as she pleased. She seemed taken with him, but that could be another pretense.

  “The bellman will see you to your rooms and deliver your baggage. I hope you have a pleasant stay with us. If you need anything, let me know.”

  In her most polite tone, she said, “Thank you, sir, I’m sure we’ll have a lovely time in your city. Come along, Cousin Dan, let’s get settled in and have dinner. I’m ravenous.”

  As she joined the bellman nearby, Dan followed behind her swishing skirt and swaying hips. He noticed how dark her hair looked against the ripe-olivecolored garment. This woman utterly amazed and perturbed him. She behaved as if she truly were on a holiday, as if she didn’t have a care in the world!

  They reached their rooms and waited for the bellman to separate their baggage. When that task was done, Rachel and Dan tipped the sunny-haired young man, who nodded his gratitude and left.

  Standing in their doors, Rachel smiled and said, “I’ll be ready in one hour, Captain Slade, as soon as I unpack and freshen up.”

  “I’ll knock on your door at six-thirty sharp.” Dan noted that her cheeks were lightly flushed and wondered if sharing that bottle of wine on the train was the reason for their rosiness and her merry mood.

  Rachel locked her door and walked to the bed, beside which her trunks had been placed. She unfastened the buckles and unpacked them. As she looked into the oval mirror, Rachel observed how pink her cheeks were. As far as Daniel Slade was aware, she was a happy woman, wed to one of his oldest and best friends. She had to be very careful how she behaved around him or he could become suspicious of her morals.

  Dear Phillip… She spoke silently to her dead husband. I tried to love you as a wife and to desire you as a man, but I couldn’t. I believed you understood and accepted that reality. Perhaps you didn’t and you’re punishing me with this dangerous mystery. Somehow I must find the key to unlock this prison you’ve placed me in. If you truly loved me, guide me to the clues I need for release and freedom.

  Rachel donned a simple but lovely cornflower-blue dress that was trimmed in ivory lace and small ribbons. She pinned up her long dark hair in a stylish manner, then secured a matching blue silk flower just above her ear. As she finished putting on her hose and slippers there was a knock at her door. She glanced at the clock on the dressing table and smiled.

  “I see you’re punctual, Cousin Dan,” she greeted the captain at the door. “I’m ready.”

  “Why Cousin Dan?” he asked.

  “That’s how I’ll introduce you along our journey so no one will think anything wicked of our traveling together.”

  As they strolled down the lengthy hallway toward the stairs, Dan asked, “How many times have you been to Augusta with Phillip?”

  “Only once. We came around the Christmas holidays. We spent two days with George’s family, and another two with Harry’s in Athens. Phillip considered his business partners the closest people to his family. As you know, his real family are all deceased. The men spent time with business and socializing with their friends. I was left in their homes with their wives. I didn’t get to see much of either town, so I’m looking forward to this holiday. I’d also like to get to know his partners better. With Phillip not around I can do that better.”

  “You sound as if you don’t trust them,” Dan hinted as they descended the steps.

  “Why would you think that? I hardly know them.”

  Dan couldn’t say that when she was relaxed her eyes looked like a pale yellowy brown of melting honey and when she was tense or guileful, they looked more greenish brown, the hue they were now. She also seemed to hold them open wider when she was nervous. So he merely commented: “The way your voice sounded, and the fact that you’re staying around more than a day or two.”

  “Will that interfere with your schedule?”

  “No. In fact, I can use a holiday myself. I’ve been at sea a long time and I’ll be heading there again soon. I can use a little fun. Right now, a delicious meal will be perfect.” He gestured down the hall. “There’s the way to the dining room.”

  They were met at the door and seated at a table near a window. The eating area was busy tonight. After their orders were given to the waiter, they looked at each other across a white-linen-covered table with glowing candles and fragrant flowers in a shallow cut-glass bowl. Soft music from a violin filled their ears helping to calm their tensions.

  Rachel realized this evening was not going to be easy while staring into that handsome face with its enticing blue eyes and smile as bright as a thousand candles. She had to lighten the heavy romantic aura and distract them both. “Tell me about your travels around the world. I imagine you’ve been to many exciting places and had countless adventures. Entertain me with colorful tales.”

  Dan recognized her ruse and concurred it was a good and needed one. She was far too ravishing and enchanting tonight to be ignored. As their turtle soup came he began to relate tales of some of his voyages. He was well into his third story when their dinner arrived: baked ham, stewed tomatoes, green beans, and biscuits with honey. The meal was served with coffee and a heady red wine. Between bites, Dan continued his stories, and she listened or asked questions or made comments.

  The candles between them were burning low when the waiter set down their dessert plates, which were heaped with fruit dumplings covered with a hard butter sauce.

  Rachel glanced at the enticing sweet and laughed. “I’m stuffed. I don’t think I can hold another spoonful.”

  Dan swallowed his second bite, licked his lips, and tempted, “It’s worth the pain, Rachel; it’s a wonderful dish—sweet and spicy at the same time, so very crispy, and with a sauce that slides down your throat with ease. Surely you can’t deny yourself such a treat just to prevent a little discomfort later. Some things are worth doing, then paying the price for later.”

  For a moment, Rachel had the wicked thought that he wasn’t talking about the dessert. His blue eyes seemed to leap with flames that could consume her. She had the thought of leaning over and licking the sweet sauce off his full lips. Or slipping into his arms and covering his mouth with hers, right here in front of everyone. Rachel used her lagging strength to free her gaze from his. She took a bite of the dessert, then said, “Very good.”

  The waiter asked if they’d like more coffee. Dan looked at Rachel, who shook her head and said she was too full to finish the tempting dessert and was ready to leave. Dan instructed the man to add the meal to his hotel bill.

  “If I can’t tempt you with finishing your treat, let’s leave. Would you care for a stroll down the street? It’s well lighted and looks safe.”

  “No, thank you, Dan, not tonight. I’m tired from a long and busy day. I’ll meet you in the lobby at eight for breakfast. Afterward, we’ll go visit George Leathers. Perhaps he knows about your contract.”

  “Ah, yes, business first and play later. Wise choice, Mrs. McCandless. Shall we go?” When Rachel put down her napkin, Dan assisted her with her chair, then put his hand at the back of her waist and guided her toward the lobby stairs.

  At her door, Dan smiled and bid her good night.

  “Good night, Dan. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Dan watched the door close and heard it lock, just as he heard it squeak when it was clear she remained there leaning against it. He wondered what she was thinking and feeling, and plotting. Whatever her plan, it would get under sail tomorrow. He went to his adjoining room.

  Rachel heard his departure and wondered why he had lingered. Who and what was Captain Daniel Slade? What role did he have in her destiny? Whatever it was, it had begun the moment he arrived at Moss Haven last Friday. Was Dan a villain or a hero? she wondered. Worry about this tomorrow—-whatever it brings, she instructed herself.

  Chapter 4

  Breakfast passed in light conversation between Rachel and Dan. Their waiter returned, cleared away their dishes, and refilled their coffee cups.

  When the tables nearby were empty of hotel
guests and they had privacy, Rachel moved their talk to a serious vein. “When we visit George this morning, don’t forget you’ll be introduced as my cousin from Charleston. I plan to tour the company and pretend we’re on a holiday. If George offers to entertain us, I’ll accept. As far as he’s concerned, we’re here on vacation. After I soften him up in a few days, I’ll ask to see the company books. Hopefully by then he won’t object.”

  “I’m confused, Rachel. If you’re here on business, why not say so?”

  “Because my task is a secret for now.”

  “You don’t trust me? How can I help out if I’m in the dark about what you’re trying to accomplish?”

  Rachel pretended to ponder his words. Phillip hadn’t mentioned Daniel Slade to her, but neither had Phillip told her much about his past, so maybe that wasn’t too strange. She had come up with a plan that would seem to include him, yet not enlighten him to her motive. “All right, Dan, I’m going to trust you because you’re Phillip’s good friend. He’s thinking of selling his shares of the companies, but he doesn’t want his partners to get worried about him pulling out or checking up on them. I did his books at the shipping firm, so I understand records. He wants my opinion about their values by studying the assets and liabilities.”

  “Doesn’t he get business reports from his partners?”

  “Yes, but he wants to make certain they’re accurate.”

  “I see, you hope to catch them off guard to get an honest figure.”

  “Neither man should suspect me or what I’m doing. The two companies are separate, but they do joint deals. I want to see if either or both partners act suspicious or nervous as if they have something to hide.”

  Dan noticed that her eyes had that greenish cast again and were held wider than normal; it told him she was lying through those beautiful white teeth and soft lips as easily as she was breathing through them. “Do you know enough about guns and ammunition to be a fair judge?”

  “Yes. I’ve read all of their reports, and Phillip’s taught me all he knows about them. For comparison, we’ve gotten prices, models, sizes, and lists of materials from other companies. I’ve studied the diagrams of weapons and types of cartridges. I know enough to spot when something’s wrong. I know how gunpowder and shells are made. I know how different guns work, and who owns their patents. Phillip wanted to make certain that if anything happened to him, I could take his place if I wanted to. Besides, I find it all fascinating.” She had refreshed herself with those manuals and papers Sunday night to make sure she had the facts clear in her head.