“Goodnight.” He bowed.
Zachary tried not to cause any friction between Gillian and himself, but it seemed the harder he tried to be polite and agreeable, the farther they drifted apart. He was failing miserably at being a husband.
"Zachary, did you hear me?” Ellery asked. “You seem a million miles away.”
"I'm sorry. You were saying?”
"I said the race has begun. It started at 5pm this evening. It is said, that sparks and charcoal smoke can be seen as the two ships plow down the river."
"Oh," was all Zachary could say.
Ellery leaned back in his seat. “I have one guess why you’re preoccupied and it has nothing to do with the race or with winning Creighton Manor. You still haven't set things right with Gillian have you?"
"What are you talking about?"
He shook his head. "I should have known by the conversation I had with Gillian.”
“What conversation?”
“You have to tell her. Stop pretending you don't care about her."
"I've never pretended I didn’t. Surely, she knows how I feel. I married her when I didn’t have to. I've given her a roof over her head. I've fed and clothed her. What else could she possibly want?"
"I’m amazed my friend how ignorant you are of a woman’s heart. All those things are nice, but have you told her your feelings for her. A woman doesn't care where she lives and she’ll make do with what you can provide as long as she knows she’s loved. God bless them; women are compassionate creatures. Love to a woman is everything. Have I not taught you anything?"
Zachary looked at Ellery with a quizzical expression. "Advice about love is not what I call your specialty. You have broken more hearts than I care to count."
"See the difference between you and me, my dear boy, is that I don't want a wife."
Zachary was about to say he didn’t want a wife either, but the words died on his lips. He liked the idea of being married. It wasn't just the idea of it. It was being married to Gillian that mattered. He didn't want to lose her and yet he felt he already had. He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the full impact of defeat.
"Tell her you love her, Zachary," Ellery pleaded with him.
Was he that transparent to everyone around? Lotti seemed to know how he felt, and now Ellery had the same opinion. Why did he have such a difficult time accepting it himself, and why didn't his feelings show clearly for Gillian to see? He knew the answer. He feared loving her. Hadn’t she told him over and over again she waited for someone in her dreams? Even if he could compete with a fantasy, there was also the possibility of her going back to her time. It was too much. He wanted her to stay with him as long as possible, but he wouldn’t allow himself to love her. If he never said the words, he could fool himself into thinking it wasn’t true. "I care deeply for Gillian, but I'm not in love with her."
Ellery shook his head and chuckled. He plopped his hat on his head ready to make his departure. "As I told Gillian earlier, you can pretend all you want, but the truth is the truth. The sooner you face up to it, the sooner you will end your torture." Ellery stood then. "I have to be going. Let's plan on meeting at the telegraph office in three days to hear the results. I know we have the outcome of the race already, but I personally would like to hear it anyway."
Zachary walked Ellery to the door. "That's fine by me. We'll see you in three days.”
***
Zachary went upstairs, pausing at Gillian's door. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to knock. Gillian opened the door just a crack.
"May I come in for a moment? I won't keep you long.”
She nodded and opened the door wide enough for him to enter. She was dressed for bed, her hair flowing free from its confines. He took note of the brush she had clutched in her hand. "Were you brushing your hair?" He knew it was a stupid question the moment he said it, for what else would she be doing with the brush.
"I was about to.”
"May I?" Zachary asked, as he gently took the item from her hand. Again, she nodded and sat down on the chair. He gently brushed every strand without uttering a word. Zachary met her gaze in the mirror. He knew she wondered why he was here. The crinkling at the corner of her eyes and her creased brow gave her away.
God, he loved her green eyes the shade of a meadow. They made him forget to breath. He cleared his throat. “I love..." There was that word again. For a blink of an eye, he imagined finishing the sentence with I love you, but his mouth wouldn’t obey. "I love… your auburn hair the way it shimmers in the light.”
“I don’t know what you’re about, Zachary, but you can’t come in here and sweet talk me and expect me to throw my arms around you.”
“That’s not—”
“I can finish brushing my hair myself.” She grabbed for the brush and for a moment he didn’t let go. They stared at each other through the mirror’s reflection. Her gaze softened and he thought she realized he wasn’t playing a game here, but then she pulled away.
He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. "The race has begun." He cleared his throat. "About that bet we made, I want to—"
"A bet is a bet.” She whirled around to face him. “You can't change it this late in the game.”
Her voice held a rough edge and she lifted her chin in defiance. He lost the courage to ask her to forget the wager, to give them a chance. There would be no negotiating with her.
“You’re right.” He nodded, his shoulders hunching forward. “I didn’t mean to bother you.” He walked to the door, his hand on the doorknob. "I've wanted Creighton Manor for so long. I wanted it back when my father lost it, but more so when my sister died.”
She turned in her chair. “Why?”
He looked at her. “I sent Sarah and her husband to their death. I was supposed to be on the ship that capsized, not them. I pretended, I was giving them a gift, a chance to get away without Tyler; to have time for each other like a second honeymoon or something, but the truth of the matter was that it was simply a selfish ploy. The ticket that I had was non-refundable, but I did manage to secure another one easily enough. I stayed behind because Cyrus was to be entering a big game in town and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to make him lose to me again. So you see, I should have been on that ship. I should have been the one who died not Sarah, not Ty. Securing Creighton Manor is the least I can do for Tyler, since I took his parents away from him.”
"It wasn't your fault."
"I don't want your pity, Gillian. That is not why I told you this. I just . . . I just thought you ought to know my reason why I cannot let Creighton Manor go." He didn’t wait for Gillian to comment. Instead, he left the room closing the door behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was the day. Zachary could barely wait to hear the results of the race. The town buzzed with excitement and bets were changed every minute from the Natchez to win then to the Robert E. Lee.
As planned, Gillian, Zachary and Lotti met Ellery at the telegraph office, while Dora stayed at the house with Tyler who was sick in bed with a stomachache.
The four waited impatiently for the news to come over the wires. Lotti continually tapped her cane. Ellery flirted with every woman that passed by, while Zachary leaned against the wall running his fingers through his hair. He had done it so many times now, that it was standing on end. Gillian sat quietly on the bench, her hands folded in her lap. She waited. She prayed what she knew wouldn’t happen. She wished Zachary would lose, for that would mean. . .
She heard the tap tapping of the telegraph. The four gathered in front of the window.
"There's a ship that has docked in St. Louis." The man interpreted what the telegraph message said. "Tap tap tap", the telegraph went again. "It's the Robert E. Lee!" The man interpreting gave the shout. "She's beatin' the Natchez!"
Ellery shouted his pleasure and kissed Lotti on the cheek before he lifted her off the ground and twirled her around.
"Unhand me this instance," Lotti complained ha
lf heartily, but Ellery obeyed immediately.
"Begging your pardon, Lotti. I am thrilled with the results."
"Made a big bet, did you?" Lotti asked smiling.
Ellery's grin said it all.
Zachary drew Gillian to him. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. She lifted her head and looked into his all so blue eyes. She was surprised to see they were misted with tears. She wanted to say something, but no words would leave her lips. She felt a lump form in the back of her throat. She wanted to push away from him, but at the same time, she didn’t want him to let her go.
He didn't let go. Instead, he lowered his head and kissed her, warm, soft, kisses that clouded her mind. She didn't pull away, but leaned forward. She wanted more. She craved more. Then Ellery slapped Zachary on the back, breaking the spell. Zachary released her and her lips whispered his name in abandonment. She stepped away, with her hand pressed against her mouth.
Ellery hugged Zachary in a bear hug, laughing and cheering at the same time. She turned and walked down the street filled with people. The news of the race and its result spread like wild fire from one person to another. She just wanted to be away from it all. She walked faster, her vision blurred as the tears began to fall. Zachary had won and she had lost.
She rounded the corner of the mercantile, so lost in her misery she didn’t notice someone followed her until it was too late. He grabbed her from behind and clamped a damp cloth over her mouth. She choked back the antiseptic smell. She thought to herself before blackness overtook her, “Not again.”
***
Zachary looked everywhere for Gillian, becoming frantic when he couldn’t find her. He needed to tell her how he felt about her, about them. He would fight for her.
They arrived home and found out from Dora that Gillian hadn’t returned.
"Where could she be?” Zachary threw his hands up in the air.
"I'll go back to town and have another look," Ellery volunteered. "You stay here, just in case she returns.”
"No, I'm coming too," Zachary insisted, already donning his hat. "I can't sit here and do nothing."
Lotti stepped in. "Have either one of you considered that maybe she went back to her own time? We have known this could be a possibility."
"No!" Zachary shouted. "She couldn't have. I refuse to think that's a possibility.” Zachary swung open the door, startled by the boy who stood there. “What do you want?”
The boy had to be about ten. His clothes were worn and his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days. The boy handed him a note and took off running.
“What was that about?” Ellery said coming to stand behind Zachary as he opened the folded paper, reading along with him.
"What the . . . A ransom? Who would be holding Gillian for ransom?"
"One guess," Zachary seethed as he crumpled the note within his fist.
"Do you really believe Cyrus Locke would have the audacity to snatch her from under our noses?” Ellery asked.
"Who else could it be? With the amount of money the kidnapper is asking for, it will wipe me out. I'll be forced to sell Creighton Manor. I expect, once Creighton Manor is up on the market, Cyrus will be there to put his bid in."
"What are you going to do?" Ellery asked.
"Do?" Zachary’s brows furrowed. "What kind of asinine question is that? I'm paying. I don't want anything to happen to Gillian. Her safety first, nothing else matters. I'd sell my soul, if that's what it takes to bring her back to me."
Lotti nodded her approval. “It’s one heck of a way to expose one’s heart, but it’s about time you face how you feel about Gillian.”
Zachary ignored his grandmother’s remark. He’d face his feelings when he had Gillian safe in his arms.
"The note says to leave the money with a person at the Mertz’s barn," Ellery stated. "I'll go with you.”
***
When Gillian finally came to, she found she’d been blindfolded and seated on a chair with her hands bound behind her.
She heard someone in the room and froze. Her heart pounded in her ears.
"Don't struggle with your ropes, Mrs. Creighton," a man with a deep voice advised her. "I assure you, they are securely tied and you will not be able to get out of them."
"Who are you?" Gillian asked, not that she thought the man would tell her since he had blindfolded her.
He chuckled. "Your guardian, for right now." He slid his hand against her cheek, making her flinch. "Pretty thing you are. It's a pity you won't be with me long." The man dropped his hand away. He didn’t say more. He left the room, shutting the door behind him. Gillian let her breath out in a whoosh.
She didn't waste any time. She started working on the ropes. She had no intentions of waiting around to find out what he meant by she wouldn’t be with him long.
Luckily, she wasn't tied up as tightly as the man thought. Gillian managed to work the ropes loose. She wiggled her left hand free first, then the right. She immediately removed her blindfold. She stood looking around the empty room, while she rubbed her sore wrists.
She whirled around, taking in the low slopping ceiling. Her prison had to be an attic of a house. The chair she’d been tied to being the only furniture in the room. The light shone through the only window on the north wall. She went over to it and looked out. The paint was peeling on the house and the vines were overgrown. She spotted the river in the distance through the oak trees and was able to confirm what she had already suspected. She’d been locked away in Creighton Manor. Zachary had been right after all. Cyrus had been behind all their turmoil.
She had to escape. She flew to the door, shaking the doorknob in frustration when she found it was locked. What did she expect? The kidnapper would leave the door open for her. She went back to the window to see if there was another way out. There wasn’t a ledge only the steep rooftop. She looked down to the hard stones below. Jumping was out of the question. She would probably kill herself from the fall or at the least injure herself unable to run away.
She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. What was she going to do? She was trapped, and she didn't think it was wise to wait for the man, who kidnapped her to return. She wondered who the man was. He didn’t sound like Cyrus Locke.
***
Zachary had the saddlebags filled with money and now waited patiently at the barn for the person to show. Ellery would remain hidden until he gave the signal.
Luckily, they didn't have to wait long.
As the rider neared, Zachary immediately recognized him as the man who had attacked him on the dock, short dark hair and a scar on his right cheek, an added addition when Zachary had sliced him with his knife.
He halted his mount in front of Zachary. "You have the money?"
“Where is she?" Zachary shot back.
"Safe, as long as you have what I’m here for.”
"If you think I am just going to hand over the ransom without knowing where my wife is, you’re dumber than you look."
The man snorted at that remark. He took out a slip of paper and handed it to Zachary.
“This map leads me to Gillian?” He skimmed over it.
“Now who is being stupid?”
He pinned the kidnapper with a bloodcurdling glare.
The man cleared his throat. "It’s a map to where you can find the instructions you’ll need to locate your wife. Now where is the rest of the money?”
Zachary walked over to his horse and removed the satchel. He then sauntered over to the man and handed it to him. "That's part of what you wanted. If Gillian is where your note says, then you will get the rest of it."
"I don't think you understood the instructions. I get all the money now or you don’t see your precious wife again." The man leaned over and sneered at Zachary, obviously thinking he had the upper hand, until he heard the cock of a gun. He didn’t need to turn around to know he was in trouble.
Zachary’s grin slowly tipped the corners of his mouth.
***
> Gillian watched out the window waiting for someone to return. She knew no one had been in the house all day. It had been too quiet, no creaking stairs, no voices. All remained silent as a tomb. She shivered at the thought even though the attic felt like a furnace. Even with the window open, her dress clung to her damp body.
If she didn’t have something to drink soon, she’d die of dehydration. The thought crossed her mind that maybe this was what her captors had planned for her.
She sat on the floor again to rest, wondering if Zachary would even look for her or simply think she returned to her time.
She heard a noise from down stairs and flew to her feet in a panic. Her eyes riveted to the locked door half expecting it to swing open. She needed a weapon and could have kicked herself for not thinking of it sooner. Her eyes landed on the chair. She grabbed it and ran behind the door to wait. It seemed an eternity until she heard the footsteps tread up the stairs. Sweat dripped down her face in beaded droplets. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.
The door opened, creaking on its hinges. She waited patiently, knowing she’d only have one chance, one moment of surprise. She went to swing, but caught sight of the long skirt sweeping across the floorboards.
The woman turned and seemed to be just as startled as Gillian had been. She stepped back, her hand flying to her chest.
"Violet?" Gillian lowered the chair, her mind reeling with confusion. Why was Violet here?
A slow smile curved Violet’s lips but Gillian didn’t feel at ease, rather she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. "Hello, Gillian. I'm rather surprised to see you up and about. I gave Dane strict orders to tie you up." She came a little closer and Gillian noticed for the first time Violet held a gun in her hand.
"What's going on, Violet? Where's Cyrus?”
Violet’s chilling laugh bordered on insanity. "Wasn't I clever?"
"Clever?”
"Why yes. Cyrus and Josephine are out of town. They had to be in St. Louis to watch the blasted race. It was so perfect for my plan.”
"Do you mind clueing me in on this master plan of yours?”
Creighton Manor Page 18
