Promise Me Forever

by Janelle Taylor

  “You’re most kind and thoughtful, Harry.”

  Rachel and Dan halted at the top of the hill to catch their breath at the five-points section, three blocks from the hotel.

  “He didn’t even offer to act as our guide or even to entertain us at night after he finishes work. He probably wants to avoid me as much as possible. I’m sure you noticed how fast and reluctantly given our tour of the factory was. At least George offered us one and did it with leisure. I thought it rude neither man introduced even me to the workers; I am a partner’s wife. And that stupid excuse about expansion! He was lying, covering himself for needing to get in touch with Phillip soon. He’s probably worried about Phillip checking on him and his deals through me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me Phillip had just sailed when I arrived?”

  Rachel was stunned by his query. She expected comments on her observation of Harry. “You didn’t ask when he departed. Does that matter?”

  “No, I was just wondering if there was a reason.”

  “Phillip left home the morning you arrived in town. You just missed seeing him.” She got off that unsettling subject fast. “Harry rushed us through the tour so swiftly, I didn’t have time to learn or see much. They’re certainly busy for a company making so little profit.”

  “It’s probably work for that big contract all of you mentioned.”

  “That’s what I assumed, too. I’m glad you decided to wait a few days to place your order. It will give us the opportunity for another visit, as I’m sure Harry won’t extend another invitation. That man can be so rude.”

  “I noticed,” he concurred. “Your opinion of him seems accurate to me. I can understand Phillip liking and working with George Leathers, but Harrison Clements isn’t his kind. That friendship baffles me.”

  As they walked to the hotel, Dan said, “You go inside and rest until supper. I’m going over to the telegraph office to send word to Luke Conner, my first mate. I want to let him know we’ve reached Athens in case he needs me for anything. I’ll also locate that young student about acting as our tour guide for the next few days.”

  Rachel looked puzzled and Dan gave her his explanation.

  “Because Harrison Clements struck me as a careful man. It wouldn’t surprise me if he has us watched and followed. If we don’t play the holiday game, he’ll get suspicious of us. We’ll give him a few days to be duped and disarmed, then work on him again Friday night. That suit you?”

  She was pleased and impressed. “You’re clever, Daniel Slade, very clever. I’m glad you’re here to prevent me from making mistakes. You and Phillip are so different for best friends.”

  “We didn’t used to be. I guess we’ve both changed a great deal.”

  “I suppose so.”

  Rachel and Dan enjoyed a late breakfast as they waited for their guide to finish early morning classes and fetch them. When Ted Jacobs arrived a little after eleven, he was bubbling with energy and excitement. The fair-skinned, auburn-haired youth was slim with hazel eyes. He announced they would begin their tour across the street at the University of Georgia campus, as he was between classes and had two free hours. The couple followed the jaunty youth across the dirt street to the sidewalk.

  “This cast-iron arch is patterned after the Georgia state seal,” he explained. “Only seniors and graduates can walk through it. Other students and visitors have to use these stone stiles. Follow me, please.”

  Rachel and Dan obediently used the stepway over a cast-iron picket fence. They began at the library and Ivy Building, where Ted related their histories and functions. They continued on to Demosthenian Hall, behind which stood Moore College for the agricultural and mechanical arts—two skills of importance to this agricultural and industrial location.

  Ted halted them to say that the Demosthenian Society was established in 1803. “It’s a debating society,” he explained, “to improve the mind and to give practice with speaking. I’m a member. With a little more practice, maybe I can become a famous politician. Our biggest rivals and competitors are the Phi Kappas. That’s their hall across the way.” He pointed across the quadrangle to the left side of the campus. “Phi Kappa was created to give Demoses something to think about and practice on. They have secret signs and meetings; their favorite prank is to steal our notes before a big debate.”

  The college chapel was next, a Greek Revival structure with six tall columns and windows that almost stretched from roof to floor. They came to New College as the chapel bell signaled the changing of class. Students—male and female—hurried to and fro: some silent and thoughtful; others laughing and chatting. They waited there until the activity ceased and all was quiet again.

  Ted guided them past Old College, the campus’s oldest building. “Students used to meet under trees for classes,” he said. “Some families, especially wealthy planters and businessmen, moved to Athens for their sons to attend this college. Most liked the town and stayed. My father owns a large cotton farm near Danielsville, too far to travel every day, so I room and board here. We had a fire in our barn last year that destroyed nearly all of our cotton before we could haul it to market. I take jobs like this to see me through until this year’s picking and selling. You were kind to hire me.”

  Rachel perceived that the young man was a little embarrassed about his confession and predicament. She smiled and said, “Everybody has hard spells, Ted, and needs help. We were lucky you needed this job or we might have stumbled around on our own and missed your informative lessons. This is more enlightening and enjoyable.”

  “She’s right, Ted.” Dan concurred. “Besides, you’ll appreciate your education more by helping to pay for it, and you’ll probably study and learn more this way. If you’re interested in politics, it’s good to meet a lot of different people.”

  Ted beamed with delight. “That’s very true, sir, ma’am.”

  After Philosophical Hall, they strolled toward the campus entrance. Ted told them about two colorful town characters: Joe Keno and Deputy Marshal William Shirley. “You’ll see both plenty of times during your visit.”

  At the arch, they halted to chat a while longer, then the bell in the chapel rang loudly to signal the changing of periods again.

  “I have to go to class now, but I have all day tomorrow free,” Ted said, “Would you like to continue our tours around town?”

  “That will be nice, Ted. What time shall we look for you?”

  “Let’s start at nine; that will give us plenty of time to see many things. Bring a picnic with you for noontime. We’ll take all day, if that suits you.”

  “It sounds perfect. We’ll see you at nine in the hotel lobby. Hurry to class before you’re late,” Rachel coaxed with a smile as she noticed students rushing from building to building with books burdening their arms.

  “You want to take in those sights he mentioned during our stroll?” Dan ventured after Ted left them. “He told us all about them. And,” he added with a grin on his face, “we need to stay busy having fun, because, as I suspected, we’re being watched and followed. Don’t look around,” Dan cautioned as she started to do so. “I have my eye on him, so don’t worry. We’ll play the holiday guests as alleged. Come along, partner.”

  The couple crossed the street and strolled up College Avenue. There was a gentle rise to the terrain that did not urge them to strain as they walked along the tree-shaded street. At the intersection of College and Market, they looked at the confederate monument in the center of it. The Athens Baptist Church, with its tall white belfry atop, was on one corner.

  Businesses and homes intermingled and complemented each other with their lovely architectures and neat facades. They turned down Market Street and walked toward Town Hall in the center of the street one and a half blocks away. Rows of china trees grew to its rear. Ted had told them the first floor was used as the city market and jail; the second, for town meetings, entertainment, school events, community suppers, trials of men incarcerated downstairs, and debates for local and stat
e politicians. Until the new courthouse was completed, it served in that capacity, too, as the county seat had been moved to Athens from Watkinsville three years ago.

  “Do we still have our shadow?” Rachel inquired, acting casually.

  “Yep, about a block behind, but keeping step. Make sure you pretend not to notice him. He doesn’t come close enough to make a threat. If he does, let me handle him. I’m in a protective mood today.”

  “Aren’t you always?” she teased, sending him a radiant smile.

  They stopped at a cafe for lunch. That day’s specialty, which both ordered, was fried ham, red-eye gravy, biscuits, and buttered grits—a true southern meal that could be eaten and savored at any time of day or year. The busy cafe was popular with the local citizens and the tables were close, so Rachel and Dan only talked about the sights.

  When they finished, they strolled to the Stevens Estate at the corner of Hancock. They stopped to admire the enormous Greek Revival mansion with its two formal boxwood gardens, numerous outbuildings, several wells, a fruit orchard, and vegetable garden.

  “Ted didn’t exaggerate; it’s wonderful,” Rachel murmured.

  “That it is, and a large place to keep up,” Dan remarked.

  “Do you ever miss having a home?” she inquired.

  “I do have one—my ship,” he corrected with a lopsided grin.

  “I meant one on land.”

  “Not since I left my family home in Charleston. I suppose I’ll want one some day when I get too old and feeble to sail the world.”

  “You’re teasing me, Daniel Slade.”

  “I know, but your question isn’t one I can think about at this time.”

  Rachel thought it wise not to probe him on the matter.

  The couple strolled toward the hotel and passed it. The block beyond contained Long Drug Store, owned by Dr. Crawford Long, a noted surgeon who discovered ether anesthesia. Standing outside the store was a wooden statue of a man grinding medicine in a large metal vase with a wood stick shaped like a baseball bat. According to Ted, the town citizens affectionately had named the statue “Tom Long.” Rachel and Dan didn’t halt until they returned to Jackson Street and entered a gallery of art. With leisure and enjoyment, they examined the paintings on display and for sale.

  Dan paused before one of a three-masted ship, its hull tossing whitecapped waves beneath a stormy sky, her sails billowing in an invisible wind. “That’s a beautiful clipper. Reminds me of the Merry Wind.”

  Rachel eyed his wistful expression and the powerful painting, and decided she must have it. It didn’t seem to surprise Dan when she purchased it, and she wondered if he thought she had done so to remind her of him after they parted.

  Dan carried the wrapped painting to the hotel. Rachel halted abruptly as they entered the room, then he heard her gasp. His astonished gaze took in the same sight over her shoulder.

  “Look at this mess!” She scanned the ransacked room, then began to check her belongings. “Nothing’s missing,” she finally said, “so it wasn’t a common thief. It’s probably Harry’s doing! He must not have believed that tale we told him.” She noticed something white at the edge of the rumpled bed and she retrieved it. “What’s this?” she murmured, examining the clean handkerchief to find the initials D. S. on them.

  Dan watched her make that stunning discovery. “It’s one of mine, Rachel, but I didn’t drop it here. How could it fall out of my pocket? Besides, I still have mine,” he said, drawing a matching one from his back pocket.

  “You don’t have to worry about convincing me of your innocence. You’ve been with me every minute since I left my room. I was wondering who and why someone would try to frame you for this.”

  “I don’t know, but I certainly don’t like it. It seems inconceivable that Harry would go to such trouble to leave this here when he thinks we’re cousins.” Dan peered out the window. “Rest before dinner,” he suggested. “I’ll meet you downstairs at seven. If I hurry, maybe I can trail our shadow to his boss. That could give us answers about who’s doing all this to you.”

  Dan left in such a rush that Rachel didn’t have time to ask questions or to give cautions. She went to her window and looked down on the street. Her gaze located the man who had followed and watched them all day, who had lingered a while to make sure they didn’t leave again. He headed down Broad toward the river in the direction of Athens Arms Company. She watched Dan sneak along behind him at a safe distance. She prayed the captain wouldn’t be seen and caught and that he wouldn’t attempt to get too close to eavesdrop on the imminent meeting of spy and boss. Clues were one thing, but his safety came first.

  Don’t you dare get hurt or killed helping me, Daniel Slade, Rachel silently instructed. Harry Clements is dangerous; I should have told you that. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into with me. I would die if anything terrible happened to you. Please don’t take any risks, and hurry back.

  Worried, Rachel stared out the window for a long time, until the sun set and dusk appeared. She saw the lamplighter going from lamppost to lamppost lighting them one at a time, a stick in one hand, a lantern in the other, and a three-legged dog tagging along behind him with a running-hopping motion.

  At least she knew Daniel wasn’t behind this new incident. Maybe he wasn’t responsible for any of them. Until today, she hadn’t seen or sensed anyone following her. For all she knew, Dan hadn’t written that card which had come with the flowers, and the script on the second note could be his! But how could he have forged hers on the first one? It was a vicious cycle of guilty or innocent.

  She glanced at a clock on the mantel. Seven-fifteen. She poured water from a floral ewer into a matching basin and refreshed her face and washed her hands. After brushing her long hair, she checked her garments. She hadn’t straightened her plundered room and she was a little mussed, but there wasn’t time to now.

  Rachel glanced around the lobby, but Dan wasn’t there. They had scheduled to meet at seven for dinner. Where are you? she fretted.

  Chapter 9

  Someone tapped her shoulder, and Rachel turned to respond. “Dan!” Forgetting all else, she hugged him in joy and relief. “Where have you been? I was worried sick over you.”

  Dan embraced her for a moment and found himself wishing he could hold her longer, but too many people were in the lobby to risk exposure of their kinship ruse. His hands grasped her upper arms gently and he leaned her away from his enflamed body. He chuckled to release his sudden tension. “Why? You’re the one who’s late,” he jested.

  “I watched you leave from my window and stayed there until dark. I didn’t see you return. I’ve been so frightened,” she admitted.

  Dan knew she hadn’t created the plundering incident, so she might have told the truth about the other ones he had overheard her mention in Augusta. If so, she had a persistent enemy and a reason to be afraid. Still, nothing had proved her innocent of Black Widow allegations. “I returned by the side entrance. I’ve been on the porch reading the newspaper. When I didn’t find you here, I checked in the dining room, then went upstairs to see if you were delayed.”

  “We must have just missed each other. What happened?”

  “About what?” He forgot his earlier task, as she was so tempting and distracting, so touchingly moved by fear and concern for him.

  “With our spy,” she whispered, her gaze staying locked with his. He was safe. He was with her.

  “Oh, the spy.” He released his hold on her arms. “He went into Harrison Clement’s office and stayed about ten minutes,” Dan answered in a low tone. “I couldn’t get close enough to overhear anything. I didn’t want to chance being discovered.”

  “So Harry is having us watched and followed. I wonder why.”

  “Probably doesn’t trust Phillip any more than Phillip trusts him, and he must not have believed our ruse about why we’re here.”

  “Did I act suspicious when we saw him?” She fretted aloud.

  “Not that I could tel
l; a skilled actress couldn’t have done better.” But, Dan recalled, she had noticed something during their tour, some clue she hadn’t shared with him—not yet. It had to do with the weapons the men were constructing, and she had told him she knew all about arms-making. Her expression and reaction had given away that fact to him, but probably not to Harry who didn’t know how smart and informed she was.

  “I was about to send for the marshal to report you missing. If it hadn’t been dark and I was familiar with this town, I would have come looking for you myself. Next time you check in with me when you return,” she chided.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully as she dropped the touchy subject.

  “It isn’t funny, Dan. I was worried and scared.”

  “There wasn’t any reason to be, Rachel; I’m always careful. I never challenge uneven odds.”

  “Such as the powerful ocean?” she quipped.

  “Ah, but I’m acquainted with all her phases, so there are never any surprises.”

  “She’s never beaten you, Dan, never defeated you?”

  “Not yet, thank the lucky stars.”

  “But that luck might give out.”

  Dan grinned, as if failing to perceive her seriousness. “Rachel McCandless, are you asking me or warning me to give up the sea?”

  “We’ve become good friends, Daniel Slade. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Every day at sea is challenging danger, isn’t it?”

  “Ocean violence is rare, Rachel. And there’s no more peril than on dry land. Probably less.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “As positive as I can be, Rachel, so stop worrying. Let’s eat. I’m ravenous.” He was confused by the curious change of topic.

  As they dined, Rachel coaxed, “Tell me about this Luke Conner.”

  “Luke’s thirty,” Dan related, between bites and sips. “He has brown hair and lively blue eyes, the kind filled with boyish mischief. He looks as if he has a permanent grin on his face and in his eyes. He’s so good-natured, it breaks free a lot.”