Rapture's Rendezvous

by Cassie Edwards

  “Thanks, Alberto,” Michael said, placing his arm around Alberto's shoulder. “If you hadn't happened along, I'd have been a goner for sure. Clarence seems to have disappeared tonight. I sure could've used some of his muscles.” Michael wiped at his mouth with the back of a hand, then studied Alberto. “And are you all right? I saw the knife just as you jumped that bastard. Did he have a chance to get you before you knocked him to the ground?”

  Alberto grew weak in the knees, realizing just how close he had come to being dead. He slumped to the ground, nearing the stage of retching. He hung his head in his hands, moaning. Michael dropped down beside him. “Alberto? Are you all right?” Michael's hands went over Alberto, searching him for wounds. “Damn it. Alberto. Speak to me. Tell me you're all right. I don't hate you enough to want you dead.”

  Alberto's head flew up, his dark eyes weary. “You sure about that?” he said, forcing a laugh.

  “Then you're all right?” Michael prodded, once again wiping at his mouth and nose, staining his shirt sleeve to make it even redder than it was.

  “I'm fine. And you?” Alberto finally said. “What the hell was that all about?”

  Michael slumped down on the ground beside Alberto, breathing hard. His eyes moved from one lifeless figure to the next, then to Ruby's dogs. “Damned if I know,” he mumbled. “Maybe for money, maybe for. . . something . .. else. . . .”

  “What else could it be, besides the money?” Alberto asked, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. His eyes traveled over the lifeless bodies, hoping they weren't dead. But he knew the man he had dealt the blow to wouldn't be dead. Alberto didn't have the strength to hit anyone so hard as to cause death. But the other? Alberto could see a pool of blood at the base of his head.

  “Alberto, I'd like to tell.you about it, but I think we'd best get the hell out of here. Don't you?”

  “Do you mean … just leave them here . .. ? Not tell anybody?”

  “Ruby isn't going to like it one hell of a bit,” Michael said, rising, offering Alberto a hand. “Her dogs?Those bastards had already taken care of the dogs before jumping me. I don't know if they are alive or dead.” He placed his arm around Alberto's shoulder once they were standing side by side. “And, Alberto? I owe you a lot for stepping in and doing what you did. If you hadn't, it would be me lying beside those dogs. But I would have been filled with many knife wounds. Not only knocked in the head.”

  “I've never liked you very much, Michael,” Alberto said, clearing his throat nervously. “But, hell. I couldn't stand by and watch you get murdered. Glad to have been of assistance.”

  “Well, then, since we have our thank yous cleared up, let's get the hell out of here. I think I may have just found the person I've been searching for.”

  “Huh?” Alberto said, moving along beside Michael, on out onto the gravel road.

  “Yeah. I think you and I can work together, Alberto,” Michael said, smiling broadly. “How's about it?”

  “Hell, I don't have the least bit of an idea what you're talking about,” Alberto grumbled.

  “Come. We'll go to my hotel and I'll tell you all about it.”

  “Where's your hotel?”

  “In Creal Springs. But you'll have to climb onto the horse behind me. That's the best I can do.”

  “I've got my own horse and wagon hitched over there,” Alberto said, motioning with his head

  “Well, then, follow me,” Michael said, laughing throatily. “Yeah, Alberto. I think between the two of us, we can take care of that damn Nathan Hawkins.”

  Alberto began to walk toward his wagon but stopped when he caught sight of a body lying partially in the brush. He felt his heart lurch, then shouted, “Michael! Come quick!”

  Michael rushed to his side, then stooped when he saw the cause of Alberto's alarm. “My God, it's Clarence,” he gasped.

  Alberto took a few steps backward. “Is he . .. is . . . he dead …?”

  Michael checked Clarence over carefully, then rose, frowning. “No. Just has a blow to the head,” he grumbled. “We've got to get him to the porch. We'll just leave him there for Ruby to find.”

  “Are you sure he's not. . . dead . . . ?” Alberto stammered, afraid to lift Clarence. He knew the weak side of himself was surfacing once again, but he just couldn't seem to help it.

  “Damn it, Alberto,” Michael said. “Grab hold of his legs. I'll take his arms. Let's get him to the porch and then get the hell out of here.”

  “Okay,” Alberto mumbled. “If you say so.”

  They struggled with the heaviness of Clarence's body until they had arranged him beside the door for a quick discovery by anyone making the next exit from Ruby's house.

  Michael brushed his hair back from his eyes, panting hard. “Now, Alberto, let's head out,” he said, moving down the steps.

  “I'd sure like to know what you've got up your sleeve, Michael,” Alberto.said, moving alongside him.

  “You'll soon know, Alberto. Soon. . . .”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The night sounds in this state of Illinois were peaceful and serene. Wrapped in her velveteen cape, Maria paced the front porch of her new home. She shivered in the chill, clasping her arms around her, hugging herself, looking into the distance, listening. A whippoor-will was echoing across the stretches of land that lay on all sides of her and crickets hummed along, it seemed in unison. But it wasn't these sounds that had brought Maria to the porch in the wee hours of the morning. She had heard the sound of a wagon's wheels and horse's hooves, sounding almost like those of the wagon that she had called her own, but was now only her Papa's and Alberto's.

  Thinking it to be Alberto returning to apologize for his nasty behavior, Maria had rushed to her wardrobe and had pulled the cape from inside it and wrapped it around her chemise, hoping to meet Alberto just as he stepped from the wagon, headed for her front door.

  But nothing. When she arrived at the front door and looked toward the road, all she had seen had been just a bit of dust in the air, swirling upward from the road, the only signs left of any wagon having just passed by.

  Maria continued to pace, sighing heavily She knew that she could return to bed, but she hadn't been able to sleep. Closing hereyes in the new surroundings, beautiful though they were, had become an absolute impossibility. She had lain there, listening for the familiar steps of Nathan, fearing his return would carry him right to her room, to demand more from her body. Did she have a lifetime of dread ahead of her? Wasn't there any way out of this complication she had gotten herself into?

  She feared not, for it seemed that Nathan was even more powerful than she had at first suspected. How many wives had there been before her? How could Mama Pearl not have grown suspicious before now? But maybe Mama Pearl was being held against her own will, and being forced to pretend such joviality.

  Maria knew that she would have to agree to anything Nathan would demand of her now. The thought of possibly being taken and left deep inside the bowels of the earth frightened her so. Would he truly add her body to those that she suspected he had already taken to the coal mines and left to die?

  She shook her head, trying to make her mind quit traveling in such vicious circles. She was letting her imagination run wild. This wasn't the time. She needed her rest. Hadn't Michael said that he would meet her this very next day? She needed to be fresh, to make him love her even more.

  Sighing, she turned and went back inside, walking quietly up the steepness of the stairs, on to her room. She tossed her cape aside and stretched out on her bed, resting her head on her hands as her elbows pushed against the mattress. She gazed out the window, suddenly feeling as though she was in Italy. Didn't the setting outside the window resemble Italy? Beneath the soft velvet rays of the moon, row after row of grapevines sat in clusters, as though they were people, stooped, with rounded backs. Only by daylight did they show their true forms, which then resembled fingers, as their tendrils reached out to the next cluster of vines.

  A deep sadness cre
pt through Maria's heart. She missed Italy. She missed her Gran-mama and her Aunt Helena. And she now missed Alberto and her Papa, and they were only a stone's throw away. “One doesn't have to be across the ocean to be separated,” she whispered, settling down onto a pillow, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. She reached up and lifted her hair from beneath her head, letting it drape across the pillow behind and beside her, then let herself drift off into a restless sleep. She dreamed of Michael, his lips, his hands, his voice, and then she was awakened abruptly when she heard a noise outside her door in the hallway. She tensed, thinking it was Nathan, seeking her out in the dark. She rose, pulling a night robe around her shoulders, then crept to the door, opening it slowly.

  “Maria .. . ?” a voice spoke from somewhere beside her.

  Maria put her hands to her throat, turning on her heel, peering through the darkness. “Alberto . . . ? God Alberto, is that you? How . . . ?”

  Alberto moved to her side and took her hand in his. “Maria, I've got to talk to you. Now. Tonight.” he said thickly. He glanced quickly around him. “Where's Hawkins?”

  Maria was in a state of semi-shock. “Alberto, how did you get in here? Why . . . ?”

  “The front door was unlocked. I just walked in. I had to see you.”

  “But what if Nathan had been here? What if he had heard you? Wouldn't you be afraid of him shooting you like a thief in the night?”

  “I had to take that chance,” Alberto grumbled, taking her by an elbow, guiding her back into her room. Once inside, he shut the door behind them. “Now. You must tell i.ie. Where is Hawkins?”

  “How did you know he wasn't even here in this room where I slept. . . ?”

  Alberto laughed hoarsely. “Maria, if Hawkins had been in that room with you, I know you would've steered me away from it long before now.” His eyes moved around him, seeing what was possible beneath the dim rays of the moonlight streaming in through the one window.

  “I still cannot believe you would enter this house as you have done,” Maria whispered.

  “I can feel my way around any house. Especially if it's to find you, Maria.”

  Maria went to her nightstand and turned on a light, flooding the room in shallow yellows. Alberto went quickly to the light, looking beneath its shade. “Electric,” he said. “So Hawkins has brought you to a house of riches, huh?” He began to walk around the room, touching the softness of the upholstered chairs, and then the bed. He bounced onto it, laughing shakily. “God. What a bed. Now I can understand why you would agree to live here.”

  Maria went to him and sat down beside him, taking a hand in hers. “Alberto, that is not the reason at all,” she said sternly. “Now that you're here, you're going to hear all the true reasons. You shall not leave this house until you listen.”

  Alberto ran his free hand through the thickness of his beard. His face became serious. “Maria, I already do know,” he said thickly.

  Maria's face paled. She rose, moving around the room, hugging herself. “How do you know, Alberto?” she said. She swung around, facing him. “Only two people know besides myself. Papa . . . and. . . .”

  Alberto rose and moved toward her. “And Michael?” he grumbled, tilting her chin with a forefinger. “And Michael Hopper? Is that what you were ready to say? That you had also told Michael Hopper?”

  Maria swallowed hard, seeing much in the depths of Alberto's dark eyes. It wasn't a mockery. It was an understanding. “How did you .. . know . . . ?” she whis-pered.

  He walked away from her and slouched down into a chair, stretching his long, lean legs out before him. “It's the damnedest thing,” he said, laughing amusedly.

  Maria sat down opposite him, leaning forward, eyes wide. “What are you talking about, Alberto?” she prodded, feeling the rapid beat of her heart. How would he know of Michael, without . . . having . . . talked with . . . him?

  “Michael,” he grumbled. “He's not so bad after all. I guess I've been wrong about him all along.”

  Maria flipped her hair back from her eyes. “What has happened to change your mind . . . ?” she uttered softly.

  “Michael. He's what has happened,” Alberto said. “He and I. Well… uh … we met once again tonight. We met at Ruby's.”

  Maria's fingers went to her throat. “At Ruby's?” she gasped. “You and Michael. . . ?”

  “We joined in on one of the damnest poker games,” he laughed more amusedly. “Cutthroat as hell. But neither of us won over the other. We split even.”

  “Then you got along all right? You didn't have bitter words between you?”

  “More than that,” Alberto chuckled.

  “What do you mean, more than that.. . ?”

  “Well, Michael left before I did, and when I got outside Ruby's, I found him being attacked by two fellows. I decided I didn't dislike Michael enough to let him get knifed so I jumped into the fight with him. Between us … we gave the two bastards the licking of their lives.”

  “Then you.and Michael … are … all right.. . ?” Alberto thrust out his chest, hitting it with doubled-up fists. “Don't I look all right?” he laughed. “And Michael. . . ?” “Fit as a fiddle.”

  “Why would these men attack . . . ?” Maria began to say, then paled, remembering what Michael had said about being so involved in this thing called the “union.” Had Nathan . . . found out. .. ?

  “Afterwards, I went with Michael to his hotel room in Creal Springs,” Alberto said, rising, pacing the floor. “He told why he's in Creal Springs. He's asked me to help him.”

  “What do you mean, Alberto? Help him . . . ?”

  “This ‘union’ he speaks of? Well, Michael wants me to be his and the ‘union's’ ally. To speak the truth to all the coal miners. To set them against this Nathan Hawkins. To cause them to demand better wages and different, safer working conditions. I'm to mingle with the men, whisper these truths. When all agree that Nathan Hawkins has to be dealt with, then we will make our move and we will no longer be prisoners in this town called Hawkinsville.”

  Tears burned at the corners of Maria's eyes. Now not only did she have to fear for Michael's safety, but also for Alberto's. “Alberto, it is too dangerous,” she cried. “You don't want to get involved. Surely Michael has his own men that he can send in to talk to the coal miners. Why .. . you .. . ?”

  “Nathan Hawkins's representatives are everywhere. They can sniff out a union man. Don't you see? I'm sure that's why Michael was getting attacked tonight. That's the reason he needs someone who is already of the Italian community to infiltrate and set our people's minds to wondering about these things that the union promises for our people.”

  Maria rose and began pacing the floor, chewing on her lower lip. “I just don't know,” she whispered. “I just don't know.”

  Alberto went to her and took her by the shoulders, glowering. “Maria, I have to do this. Don't you see? I need this to make me feel as .. . a . . . uh . .. man. Doing this could make me feel so important. Up to now, I have groveled in pity for myself. And don't you even remember what I did .. . uh . . . earlier … to you? How 1 … uh … . kissed you?”

  Maria's gaze lowered. She swallowed hard. “Yes. I remember,” she whispered. Her eyes shot upward. “And why did you do such a thing, Alberto? You made me feel… so dirty afterwards. I was never so con-fused.”

  Alberto moved away from her, with head bent. “I do not understand myself at times, Maria,” he murmured. He began to knead his brow, trembling. “I guess I was so angry at you for having married such a beast as Nathan Hawkins. I didn't understand how you could do this to me . .. Papa . . . and all of our people. You knew that it was he who had caused us to live like dogs … animals….”

  Maria went to him and took his hands in hers. She looked into his eyes, nearing tears. “But I had to, Alberto,” she said. “I had no choice. He forced me. Don't you see? I wouldn't have otherwise. Don't you know my hate for that man? If you knew how I hated … for him … to touch me.. . .”

  Alberto clos
ed his eyes and shook his head violently. “Don't even say it, Maria,” he shouted. “I don't want to hear the words. Just the thought of him being near you repulses me. I don't want to think of him doing any-thing further to you. . ..”

  “I know,” she murmured, caressing his cheek with her hand. “I'm sorry, Alberto. I'm sorry.”

  His gaze met hers and held. “Anyway, Michael explained it all to me,” he mumbled.

  Maria felt a blush rising. “He… did … ?” she gasped, pulling away from Alberto. She wondered just how much Michael had confessed to her brother.

  “I understand. Fully,” he said, moving to plop down into a chair, head bowed.

  She went and sat down on the floor in front of him, looking upward into his face. “Do you? Honestly? Do you know that if I hadn't, that man I have been forced to call my husband would have sent us all back to Italy? Do you realize that would have been the end for Papa?

  He isn't well enough….”

  Alberto framed her face between his hands. “Hush. Maria, don't speak anymore of it,” he whispered. “Like I said, Michael told me all. He told me of your encounter with him while you were there with Nathan in Saint Louis. I even now approve of Michael and you getting together. Honestly, I do. He's one hell of a man. I don't know why I didn't see it sooner. He's someone I'd like to be more like. And maybe one day I will.”

  “I'll always love Michael, Alberto,” Maria confessed, flushing once again.

  “I know,” he said, lowering his eyes. “And he loves you. He plans to have you. One way or another. He confessed this much to me tonight.”

  Maria's heartbeat increased. “You did say you were with him tonight?” she said. “Michael had said that he would be in town tomorrow. But he hadn't said anything about tonight. Where is he now, Alberto?”

  “In the Saline Hotel in Creal Springs,” he said, blinking his eyes nervously, suspicious of what her next words might be. .. .