She further wondered what they said to each other in private. How they justified what they were doing to her. But most of all, Kate wondered what Norah Talmidge must harbor in her heart for Kate—a woman capable of giving Mr. Talmidge what she couldn’t, what he wanted the most. A child. Not for the first time did Kate wonder who was the bigger monster here. Him. Or his wife.
“You look like you want to say something, Kate,” Norah Talmidge said into the silence. “Feel free to speak. We won’t harm you.”
We won’t harm you? Kate’s mouth slacked open. She could only stare at the woman and mentally answer her own question. Norah Heston Talmidge is the bigger monster. Yes, Mr. Talmidge had been the one who had repeatedly raped her. But at least his violence had been straightforward. She could see it coming, could anticipate it, and could steel herself against it. But not so Norah Talmidge’s brand of evil. The woman was much more deadly for being so underhanded and secretive. She was the one to watch.
Feeling certain of that, Kate proceeded cautiously, looking from one to the other of them as she spoke. “Yes, I do have something to say. I—I would like to know when we’re stopping for the night. I … well, the baby”—acute embarrassment stained her cheeks—“is pressing on me and—”
“What about the baby?” Edgar Talmidge sat up stiffly, his cruelly handsome face a mask of suspicion as he leaned forward across the seat toward Kate. He gripped Kate’s knee. “Are you feeling poorly, Kate?”
Kate stiffened at his touch and tried unsuccessfully, given the coffin-like confines of the carriage, to edge her skirt-covered knee away from him. Fearing Norah Talmidge’s reaction to his touching her knee, Kate glanced at the woman who sat at his side and clung to his arm. There was a smirk on her face. Unlike Kate, she couldn’t see that her husband’s expression had changed … to one of concern. For Kate.
Nothing could have scared Kate more. She’d suspected toward the end of her ordeal in this man’s bed, that he’d … come to hold some warm feelings for her. The mere thought of such a twisted thing left her weak and sick, forcing her to gather her courage in the space of her next breath. Then she blurted out, “I’m fine. I have to relieve my bladder, is all. The baby is pressing on it.”
Edgar Talmidge jerked his hand away and sat back stiffly. Norah Talmidge reacted as if she’d just smelled a skunk. “Oh, how dreadful. What a crass thing to say.” She buried her face against her husband’s shoulder.
Stung, embarrassed, and resentful, Kate continued. “It might be crass, Mrs. Talmidge. But it’s still the truth. I only hope your mishandling of me today doesn’t cause me to lose this child.”
Norah Talmidge’s head popped up. She and Mr. Talmidge exchanged a panicked glance before the hateful woman turned a malevolent gaze Kate’s way. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve had some bleeding.”
Mr. Talmidge frowned. “Bleeding? Why would you be bleeding? What have you done?”
In the time it took Kate to draw in a breath deep enough to sustain her protest, the man’s eyes narrowed even more. Acting with blinding speed, he shook loose of his wife’s hold on him and jerked forward across the airless space, grabbing Kate by her shirtfront and pulling her close to his face. His blue eyes iced over with wild emotion. “If you’ve been letting Cole Youngblood crawl between your legs, and he’s hurt my child—”
“Our child,” Norah Talmidge cried, sounding wounded.
The keening note in her voice startled Kate, but Edgar Talmidge ignored his wife in favor of continuing his harangue—a harangue tinged with an insane jealousy, Kate now realized. With his big-fisted hand still clutching her blouse front, he shook her and bellowed, “Answer me, damn you. Has he? Has Cole Youngblood—”
“No,” Kate screamed, her tears hot as they coursed down her face. “But I’ve been bleeding, and I don’t know why. And after the way you’ve tossed me around today, I could be bleeding again.”
Edgar stared hard into her eyes and then shoved her back as he released her. Collapsing back against his own seat back and crossing his arms over his chest, he eyed Kate, looking her up and down as he said, “We’ll stop here and see.”
Chapter Sixteen
Kate knew the odds would be against her. The last of the evening’s covered wagons had passed by more than a mile back. She feared she’d never be able to catch up to it, even if she did escape. So there she’d be—unarmed, afoot, and alone in the gray of the gathering dusk. She wouldn’t even be able to seek shelter for the night. Because she’d have to keep moving, which meant fighting her way through the tangled brush since she couldn’t risk being seen on the moonlit wagon trail. All that noise of her crashing about was bound to attract the attention of her pursuers, maybe some wild animal, and probably even an Indian or two.
All that to worry about while still trying to keep from getting caught by Mr. Talmidge and his driver, who’d most likely also give chase. The Lord alone knew what they’d do to her if she got away now and then got caught again. Like as not, they’d not be as … “kind” as they’d been thus far. Kate exhaled tightly, not allowing herself the added worry over possibly getting her feet tangled on a vine or a fallen branch that could trip her and cause her to fall. Because that could hurt her baby.
It was an awful plan. Kate knew that. Just take her chances and run? The odds of it working on this rough ground and with the night closing in were slim. But the truth remained, this was her only chance. And she had to take it.
So there it was. If she hoped to get away at all, she had to reach down inside herself right now and find the courage from somewhere. After all, what did she have to lose? Her life was as good as forfeit if she didn’t try. And so was Cole’s—if he caught up with them and had to face two guns to his one. Kate knew he was good and had probably faced greater odds and had come out okay. But in this instance, he didn’t know what or who he was up against. And that being so, Kate felt she needed to do everything she could to get away and to prevent him from walking into a trap.
That’s mighty big talk, came her rueful thought, for someone squatting down behind a tangled thatch of overgrown bushes with her skirt up around her waist. Done with her business, Kate wadded her skirt atop her thighs and turned her attention to surreptitiously searching the ground around her. She couldn’t risk moving around too much, or making too much noise as she rummaged through the twigs and fallen leaves. Because Norah Talmidge stood on the other side of the bushes. Fortunately, Mr. Talmidge and their driver had gone off in the other direction to attend to their business.
All she needed, Kate thought frantically, was a rock. A good-sized one.
“Well, Kate?”
Kate froze at the sound of Norah Talmidge’s voice and stared blindly at the tree trunk in front of her. Her hands fisted around clumps of dirt and twigs.
“You’ve been in there long enough to”—disgust accentuated the woman’s voice—“attend to your business and to know if you’re bleeding or not. Are you?”
Kate licked at her lips and then forced the words out. “No, I’m not.” No one could be more relieved than she was about that. She had sincerely been worried that she might be.
“Well, thank God for that. Then stop your dillydallying and let’s go.”
Kate frowned. Hearing Norah Talmidge say “God” sounded so strange to her. She hadn’t thought the woman knew who He was. “Um, just a another minute more. I’m almost ready.”
There followed a moment of silence from the other side of the bushes. Then, speaking in a low and steady voice, Mrs. Talmidge said, “Don’t try anything foolish, Kate. Edgar gave me the gun, as you know. I won’t hesitate to use it.”
Kate believed the woman would indeed hesitate, given that Kate carried the Talmidge heir in her body. But not looking to split hairs at this point, she dutifully called out, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be right along,” even as she groped about in the dirt, hunting, searching, praying for just one rock, just one. Her hand bumped against something cold and hard. Kate froze,
then instantly grabbed up her sought-after prize.
A relief so great it weakened her swept through Kate. She had within her grasp her freedom. And within her hand, a rock big enough to be a weapon, yet small enough for her to hold in her palm and conceal in the folds of her skirt. Breathing shallowly, Kate hung her head and closed her eyes, praying at once for strength and for forgiveness. She’d never in her life struck anyone for any reason. But this was different. This was for her baby.
Finally, swallowing her trepidation and her guilt, Kate stood up.
Norah Talmidge started, as if she hadn’t known Kate was back there, and jerked her arm up until the gun was trained on Kate. She thought the other woman looked ridiculous, standing there pointing a big gun at someone. Ridiculous and young and unsure of herself. That surprised Kate. She knew Mrs. Talmidge to be twenty-seven, but right now, she looked like a fragile child herself and somewhat like a good wind could blow her away.
But the illusion—a sudden insight had Kate wondering if she’d really only seen a momentary reflection of herself in the woman—vanished when Norah Talmidge sneered and said, “What are you looking at?”
Kate shook her head. “Nothing. I didn’t mean to stare.” But uncertainty had her flexing her fingers around the concealed rock she held—an uncertainty born of her doubt that she had the capability of doing another soul intentional harm.
“Then, let’s go. Come on.” Mrs. Talmidge waved the gun at Kate, encouraging her to move along.
Inhaling a deep breath into her fear-constricted lungs and exhaling it slowly, Kate set herself in motion. As she walked around the bushes she’d been behind, she still feared she couldn’t do this—just bash the woman over her head. It was wrong. No less wrong than what had been done to her. But an even worse thought occurred to Kate at this moment, as she rounded the bushes and neared her adversary. What if she hit Norah and it didn’t knock her out? What if Norah still had the presence of mind to fire the gun she held?
Norah? Kate blinked, sending a sharp glance the way of the other woman. Not only was she thinking of doing her harm, this woman who looked so painfully much like herself. But she was now also thinking of Mrs. Talmidge as Norah. Simply Norah. Which, surprisingly, took some of the fear away from Kate. It was her against Norah. Kate now stood in front of her foe. Green eyes met green eyes. And all Kate could think was … she needed to be behind Norah in order to give her a good whack. At least she supposed she should be behind her. After all, she’d never done this before.
What would Cole do? came the intruding thought.
“What are you staring at, Kate?”
Kate roused herself, blinking and shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I was thinking of Cole.”
Norah tensed. Her finely shaped eyebrows veed downward as she leveled her aim with the gun. “I don’t believe you, that he’s your husband. Neither did Edgar when I told him.” She chuckled at Kate’s expense. “Cole Youngblood? Your husband? Hardly.”
Kate’s temper flared. She was mighty tired of this woman always putting on her uppity airs and looking down her nose at those less fortunate than herself. It was about time someone took her to task over it, too. “It doesn’t matter what you think. Because he is my husband.”
Norah laughed, but not a speck of good humor resided in the sound. “You little simpleton. Why would such a man marry you?” Her expression changed to one of casual cruelty as she leaned in toward Kate. “Especially since we paid him such a handsome sum to find you and kill you. Did he tell you that?”
“Yes, he did.” Kate heard the restrained quiet of her own voice. And felt a moment’s triumph as Norah’s eyebrows winged upward with surprise. Feeling she had the advantage, Kate pressed her point, purposely trying to rattle the woman … as she looked for an opening for her attack. “And you do know he’ll come after me, don’t you? That even right now, he’s on his way?”
Norah’s mouth worked, she looked uncertain, even as she raised her chin and tried to sound superior. “Even if it’s true, that you’re married to him, it doesn’t mean he cares all that much. After all, you can’t have known him for more than a week.”
“He cares.” Kate said it with quiet authority … and realized she believed it, too. Cole did care. The knowledge warmed her, made her feel braver, stronger.
And Norah knew it, too, judging by her rising voice and the one step backward she took. “Well, he can care all he wants. It doesn’t mean he can find us out here.”
Kate’s eyebrows rose. “You think not? On the one and only road between here and Kansas? And headed in the opposite direction from everyone else? With us in the only conveyance not a schooner or some heavy farm wagon?” Kate paused, allowing Norah to absorb all that before she added, “You do remember why it was you hired him, don’t you? Those tracking skills, as well as that quick draw?”
Having said her piece, Kate waited silently, allowing her words to take their effect on the other woman. Rising fear and doubt slowly suffused Norah’s features and leached from her that air of superiority that had always frightened Kate. She expected to feel triumphant, seeing this woman so disadvantaged. But surprisingly, as Kate watched her, all she could think Was that for as long as she lived—and she hoped it was for a good, long time, the Lord willing—she knew she’d never forget how Norah Talmidge looked enough like her to be her sister. And yet they were such different women. Kate wasn’t about to call herself the good one and Norah the evil one. But she did believe it was all that money, and being raised pampered and spoiled, that lay at the root of the other woman’s desperate, if not evil, doings.
It seemed to Kate that Norah expected she was always to get her way. Well, not this time, Kate vowed. Norah Talmidge will never hold the baby I carry in my body. Never.
Just then, the wealthy, pampered woman quickly covered her uncertainty with an imperious tone and a haughty stance … and a steady aim with that gun. “Cole Youngblood and his attributes do not concern me in the least. Edgar will take care of him if he shows up. But you do concern me, Kate. So don’t you dare lecture me, you little beggar. Why, you’d have nothing at all without us Talmidges.”
Any remaining fear or respect or servant’s civility that Kate may have retained in her heart fled with those words. She stepped up to the woman, going eye to eye and toe to toe with her. Norah Talmidge was evidently so shocked at Kate’s forwardness that she remained in place, her free hand resting against her bosom. Angry beyond anything she’d ever felt before, Kate still managed to keep her voice low and steady. “I’d have nothing without you? Is that what you said? What did I ever have because of you? Too much work, that’s what. But not enough food or clothes to my name. And a dirty little cot in a musty old attic room was all I could look forward to at the end of a long day.”
Warming up to her subject, Kate poured out all her servant’s misery on this uncaring woman who faced her. “I never even had any money for myself. Do you know what that’s like? No, you don’t. It was hopeless, that’s what. A life of endless cleaning and toiling ahead of me. And all for what? So I could be dragged off by your husband to his bed—all in the name of money—and be violated over and over by him until I was carrying a child you couldn’t conceive?”
A look of intense pain contorted Norah’s face. She recoiled, crying out and doubling over, holding herself. Kate’s eyes widened as great sobbing, tearing sounds came out of Norah. Helpless, Kate stood there, feeling as if she were watching herself writhe in agony. Shocked and sickened at herself, at all the hatefulness and hurtfulness that had spewed out of her, she covered her mouth with a shaking hand. And wondered what she’d done. And if she’d ever be forgiven.
“Norah? Is that you?” It came from afar, the sound of Edgar Talmidge’s calling voice. Kate stiffened and jerked toward the sound, off to her right, of a large man crashing through the undergrowth. “Are you all right?” he cried. “Where are you? Damn this wildness out here. I can’t see a thing.”
From the corner of her eye, Kate saw Norah, h
er elaborate coiffure all but undone, snap upright. Kate took a step back but the woman poked the gun’s barrel right against Kate’s abdomen, where the baby would be, and called back. “Edgar! I’m over here.” She grinned maniacally at Kate—and then screamed as if she were being killed.
Kate jumped, her eyes widened, her hand tensed reflexively around the forgotten rock she still held.
“Norah? What’s wrong?” Edgar yelled, sounding panicked.
“Edgar! Come quickly,” Norah sobbed, while never looking away from Kate, never wavering as she aimed the gun. “It’s Kate. Help! She’s attacking me!” Then, with deadly calm, speaking in a voice low enough not to be heard by anyone but Kate, she said, “I’m going to kill you. And your damned baby. Because I hate you with every fiber of my being. I hate you for being taken into my husband’s bed. And for being the one to give him a child. I never wanted you around. And I certainly didn’t want you back.”
“You didn’t?” That made no sense to Kate. “Then why did you come out here—”
“I had to.” Norah’s face was a snarling mask of hatred. “Who do you think made it possible for you to escape my home and New York that night, Kate?”
Absolutely bewildered and flustered now, Kate heard her own halting reply. “It was … it was Hudson.”
Norah laughed. “Hudson? Edgar’s valet? Hardly. It was me. I did it. I wanted you out of my life. And Edgar’s. I can always find another baby to call ours. That’s not a problem. But it was you Edgar preferred. You. Over me. Afterward, when he’d been with you and would come to me, he’d say your name. He’d call me Kate.”
Prairie Song Page 28
