Bayou Bride

by Bobbi Smith

  "Then I give the man credit for some sense. A man like Montgomery will only ruin you, Peri. How can you even consider sacrificing everything for a man you barely know?"

  "I know him well enough. I love him..." she argued.

  "You have to forget him," Nick commanded, his patience wearing thin. "He'll mean nothing but trou ble for you. Stay away from him."

  "But..."

  Nick held up a hand to silence her. "Give yourself some time, and pretty soon I'll bet you'll find you're in love with someone else."

  Peri was devastated by Nick's callousness, and she felt betrayed. Still, the Kane in her blood refused to allow her to show anything but strength. She stood erect and proud before her cousin as her eyes met his.

  "I can see that we have a significant difference of opinion here, and there's really no point in discussing anything any further." Peri started for the door.

  "Peri.. .what are you going to do?"

  "Don't worry about it, Nick. My mistakes will be my own." With that, she was gone.

  Nick stared after her, wondering if his life could possibly get any more miserable. Jordan loved Montgomery, and now Peri did, too. With bewildered anger, he wondered what the hell the other man's attraction was for women.

  Nick grabbed a small valise and furiously began to stuff his clothing into it. He would follow through on his "gift" to Jordan and sign Philip's papers back to him as soon as he returned from New Orleans. He longed to throw the man off the plantation as soon as the ink was dry, but he knew his father would questions his actions, and he couldn't risk that. Resigned to being tormented by the other man's presence, he snatched up his case and quit the room. Nick had never been a man to run from his problems, but the way he felt right then, he couldn't get away from Riverwood soon enough.

  It was long past noon when Weddington finally decided it was time to check on Charles. His knock was firm, yet not alarming. "Mr. Charles, sir? You stirring yet today?"

  Charles had awakened some time before, but hadn't had the energy to get out of bed. He'd been lying there half awake, half asleep, lost in sweet reverie of his beloved Andrea and the happy, seemingly carefree days before her death. The butler's call dragged him back from his imagined delights of the past, and he knew he had to respond.

  "Yes, Weddington, you can come on in," he called, his voice sounding ever so weary.

  The servant entered to find Charles looking terribly pale and drawn. "Good morning, Mr. Charles... or should I say, good afternoon?" He tried to keep it light, but he was concerned.

  "It's that late, is it?"

  "Yes, sir. Would you like some breakfast? Or should I bring you lunch?"

  The old man waved a hand as if dismissing the thought of food. "I'm not hungry, I'm just tired. I guess all the excitement of the wedding wore me out."

  Weddington turned away from him and busied himself with straightening the room so Charles wouldn't see his worried expression. He knew he was ill, but he hadn't expected him to deteriorate so quickly. Yesterday he'd been up and around, greeting his guests and even dancing with Miss Jordan, and now today...

  "Is there anything I can do for you?"

  "No, I don't think so. I think I'll just sleep for a while longer."

  "All right, sir. Oh, Mr. Nick said to tell you that he had to travel into New Orleans to handle some kind of business problem and that he should be back in a day or two."

  Charles scowled... "But what about Jordan?"

  "Mr. Nick said it was very important. He and Mr. Slater left about an hour ago."

  "I see. Well then, if my son is too busy running Riverwood to pay attention to his bride, I'll just have to be the one to keep her company. Have Jordan come see me whenever she has a few minutes."

  "Yes, sir."

  Charles was dozing when Jordan knocked on his door a little later that afternoon. He called out groggily for her to come in, and though he was tired and looking terrible, his eyes lit up at the sight of his beautiful new daughter-in-law.

  "My dear, I'm so glad you came to see me."

  "You're my favorite father-in-law," she teased, trying to be light-hearted and not show him either her heartbreak over Nick's rejection or her very real concern over his condition.

  "I would certainly hope so." He gave a shaky grin, then made an attempt to sit up against the headboard.

  "Let me help you." Jordan went quickly to his aid, plumping his pillows for him and making him comfortable. When Charles was settled, she drew a chair to the bedside so she could sit with him.

  "Thank you," Charles sighed, reaching out to take her hand and patting it affectionately. "I'm so glad you came up. I enjoy your company."

  "I like being with you, too," she said, a deep, abiding ache growing within her as she realized just how weak he was. It hurt her to think that only the day before they'd been dancing together.. .it was almost as if the doctor's words had been prophetic. He'd been hanging on for the wedding.

  "Now, tell me, what's my errant son up to? I just can't imagine him leaving anyone as beautiful as you after only one day of marriage." Charles was trying to make easy conversation. He had had no idea that he was going to strike a nerve with Jordan, but he saw the fleeting flicker of pain in her eyes and knew something was wrong.

  "He didn't tell me too much. He just said it was business only he could take care of and that he'd be back as soon as he could." Deep within her a great anger began to blossom and grow against Nick. His personal feelings for her aside, there could be no justification for his running off to New Orleans this way when his father was so seriously sick.

  "I'm sorry he had to leave, but it must have been important."

  "I'm sure."

  "So, are you happy?"

  "Of course," she answered quickly. Then realizing that, as perceptive as he was, he had sensed some of her distress, she added, "I'm just disappointed."

  "Nick can be hard to handle sometimes, but basically he's a good man," Charles told her with sympathetic understanding. "He has his faults. I know he's far too proud and occasionally he can be very pig - headed, but he's also strong and honest and always honorable."

  His defense of Nick tore at Jordan. She had to fight to keep herself on an even keel. "I know. Those are some of the reasons why I married him," she responded.

  He gave her hand a loving squeeze. "Jordan, you and I both know I'm not going to be around much longer."

  His gaze sought hers, and though she didn't want to acknowledge the truth of his words, she could see his serene acceptance of his own mortality mirrored there in his eyes.

  "Nick's told me you were very ill."

  "It's my heart. I know it, he knows it, and I expect Peri has guessed by now."

  Jordan nodded to verify that his niece was aware of his condition.

  "The doctor told me some time ago that I didn't have long to live, and I've accepted it." He paused to draw a ragged breath, his grip on her hand tightening a bit. "It does hurt, though, to know that I won't be around to see my grandchildren."

  "Don't say that," she insisted, trying not to think about his dying.

  "Jordan," Charles spoke firmly but with tenderness, "there's no point in trying to deny reality. It's much easier for me now. I just want you to know how much you've come to mean to me and how happy I am that Nick chose you to be his wife."

  Jordan's breath caught in her throat and tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. She loved this old man. She adored him. It was crushing her to know there was nothing she could do to stop his death. "Oh, Charles," she said brokenly, "I wish you could be with me forever."

  "So do I, but sometimes we don't always get what we want in life. But you have my Dominic. He'll be there for you always, for I know he loves you as I loved my Andrea." Charles nodded toward her portrait.

  "She was a very beautiful woman," Jordan commented, seeing the resemblance between Nick and his mother.

  "Indeed she was, and I loved her more than life itself. The thought of being with her again is the only thing
that makes dying tolerable," he confessed with a wry smile. Giving her hand one last squeeze, he sighed heavily. "I think I'd better sleep again now. Will you come back later?"

  "You know I will. You just let me know when you want me and I'll come running."

  "I'll do that." He closed his eyes, and suddenly, lying there so quietly, he looked very old and very near the end of his life.

  Anguish filled Jordan, but she fought to keep it carefully camouflaged until she was out of the room. Only when she'd made it safely back to her bedroom did she give vent to her tears.

  "He sent word through channels that he'd like to meet with us to discuss the various investment opportunities he has to offer. He said he could meet us at noon a week from tomorrow in Mitchell's Tavern on the River Road," Slater informed Nick when he returned to their room at the St. Louis Hotel in New Orleans.

  "Damn!" Nick swore, aggravated that they were being put off. He wondered if his life could get any more miserable. "Why couldn't he see us today, while we're here in town?"

  "If he's the one we're after, I'm sure he wants to check our backgrounds before he tells us anything."

  Slater's explanation didn't temper Nick's mood. In fact, nothing he'd said to him during the course of the two days since they'd left Riverwood had helped, and Slater had had about enough. He knew it would probably help Nick if he'd open up and talk about whatever it was that was bothering him, so he tried to think of a way to make him relax.

  "Do you want to go home tonight, or would you rather go downstairs and have a few drinks and head back tomorrow?"

  "Tomorrow's soon enough," he answered brusquely. "Let's go." He stalked to the door, tension in every line of his body.

  They settled in at a quiet table in the hotel's bar, taking a full bottle of bourbon and two glasses with them. Slater watched as Nick slugged down two quick drinks, not even bothering to savor the fine stock, and he finally decided he could wait no longer to say something. With the undaunted courage and daring that had made him one of the government's more successful agents, Slater tackled the problem head on.

  "You know, that's mighty fine bourbon you're drinking there. Have you bothered to taste it yet?"

  Nick glowered at his friend. "It's potent. That's all that matters."

  "Nick..." Slater said his name with emphasis, so he'd know he was serious. "The other night you were upset, but nothing like this. You haven't been yourself for days now. What is it? What's wrong?"

  "Nothing's wrong," he growled.

  "Talk to me. What happened that night?"

  Having barely kept himself under control since leaving home, the last thing Nick needed was to start talking about Jordan. He didn't want to think about her, let alone talk about her. At Slater's well-intended chiding he erupted, taking his frustrated fury out on his friend. "It's none of your damned business, so stay the hell out of my affairs!" He slammed down another slug of bourbon without glancing up.

  In all the years he'd known him, Slater had never seen Nick like this. "If you need any help, you know I'm here," he offered.

  "I don't need your help or anybody else's."

  "Nick, 1..."

  "There are some things a man has to handle on his own."

  Rebuffed in his attempt to help. Slater let it drop. He only hoped that whatever the problem was, Nick would be able to solve it. He hated to think that he might go the rest of his life feeling this embittered and angry.

  The days passed in a haze of worry for Jordan as Charles's condition gradually worsened. While he did manage to get up and move around the house a little bit every day, even that slight physical activity wore him out. He was deteriorating right before her very eyes, and it was breaking her heart. Each moment of Charles's life was precious, and it hurt and angered her deeply that Nick was nowhere around to share these times.

  "Missing my son?" Charles asked Jordan as she sat with him on the gallery late in the afternoon of the fourth day of his absence.

  "Yes," she replied honestly, wishing Nick was there for his father.

  "You know, six months or a year ago, I'd have worried about Nick being away, but not now."

  "Why?"

  "Because of you, my dear. Since you came into his life he's a changed man. I'm sure whatever it was that forced him to go to New Orleans the other day was very important, and I know he'll be back just as soon as he can."

  "I hope so."

  "It's good that you miss him. Andrea and I were always close that way too. We could barely stand being separated..."

  "Do you miss her still?" Jordan ventured.

  "Every minute of every hour," Charles answered passionately. "She was my whole life. After she died..." He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. After a moment, he went on rather shakily. "Well, if it hadn't been for Nick, I don't suppose I would have wanted to go on. He's been such a blessing in my life. Watching him grow to manhood was wonderful, and now he's brought me you."

  Jordan flushed with pleasure over his compliment. "I'm glad he married me. I wouldn't have missed knowing you for the world."

  The whistle of an approaching steamer sounded, interrupting their conversation. Charles could tell by its signal that it would be docking at Riverwood, and he flashed Jordan a warm smile.

  "That should be Nick coming home. Go on...go on down and meet him. I'm sure after all this time away there's no one else he'd rather see right now than you."

  A feeling of tense anticipation gripped Jordan at the thought of seeing Nick again. Their parting had been so cold that she wasn't sure exactly what to expect from him. She did know, however, that she couldn't let her doubts show here in front of Charles. He believed they were madly in love. She had to continue the charade no matter how much it hurt her.

  "I'll be right back!" she promised.

  "Don't you want a carriage?" he asked.

  "No! That would take too long!" She heard Charles chuckling as she hurried down the path. As she focused her gaze on the steamer that was gliding smoothly into the landing some distance away, she wondered why her heart was pounding so fiercely and why her hands had suddenly gotten so cold.

  As the steamer took the wide bend in the river, Nick was on deck watching for the first sight of his home. Usually when he returned to Riverwood he felt a deep, abiding sense of peace. Today, however, knowing Jordan was there and that he would be seeing her shortly, he felt only frustrated anger. The thing that made it even worse for him was that he knew he had only himself to blame for the state of their relationship. He had known how it was for her from the very beginning. He thought it wouldn't matter as long as he kept them apart, but then he hadn't counted on falling in love with Jordan...

  Visions of their night of love crept into his thoughts, and Nick scowled, looking almost as if he were in physical pain as he tried to push her from his mind. He didn't want to think about loving Jordan. He didn't want to remember how perfectly their bodies had fit together and how responsive she was to his touch. He didn't want to dwell on the fact that he had taken her innocence.

  The fact of Jordan's virginity still left him bewildered. It was a mystery Nick couldn't solve. He had assumed from the start that she was Montgomery's lover. Certainly she'd never done anything to indicate otherwise. Why, the little scene he'd witnessed in Philip's hotel room should have been enough to convince even the most ardent of skeptics, but he'd been wrong, and that troubled him.

  Nick considered himself an excellent judge of character, but he was discovering he was completely mystified where his bride was concerned. Jordan was like a kaleidoscope. Every time he thought he understood who she was he found out something new She was an enigma, and he was intrigued. It was almost as if she were hiding something from him, but he was never quite sure what.

  As the boat pulled in Nick gathered his bag, and when the gangplank was dropped into place he started down it. He heard Jordan call his name as soon as he'd stepped on solid ground. He looked up to see her waving to him from the top of the slight incline that led to the landin
g. Gritting his teeth, he assumed his role and returned her greeting. He acted the lovesick newlywed, knowing to do any less would lead to questions. Hurrying up the hill, he dropped his valise, swept Jordan into his arms, and kissed her.

  Jordan had been expecting just about anything from Nick except that. As he enfolded her in his embrace she was held spellbound, and when his lips found hers the breathless shock immediately gave way to demanding desire. Her reaction to him startled and frightened her. She had hoped to control her feelings for him, but with just this one kiss everything she'd experienced the other night returned fresh and vibrant within her. When Nick released her, Jordan stared up at him, trying to read his eyes, but his expression was coldly remote.

  "Well done, my dear," he drawled, noticing her flushed cheeks.

  His sarcasm froze the warmth within her, and she stiffened imperceptibly as she prepared to do verbal battle with him. "Welcome back, my husband. Might I say that you were missed?" Her words were cutting as she linked her arm through his in a display that, to the onlooker, seemed perfectly casual, perfectly affectionate...

  "Really? Somehow, I find that hard to believe." He picked up his bag and they started up the path.

  "Your father has missed you sorely," she told him, deliberately making her tone icy so he would think she hadn't missed him at all. "Nick ...he hasn't been well."

  At this news Nick stopped to look down at her. "What are you talking about? He was fine the night of the wedding..."

  "The excitement of the celebration exhausted him, and he hasn't recovered much of his strength."

  "Did you send for the doctor?"

  "Charles didn't want to see him. He said he knew what was wrong and that there was no point in Dr. Williams making the trip just to tell him something he already knew."

  Nick's jaw tightened as he realized how foolish he'd been in taking off for New Orleans. At the time he'd been desperate. Getting away had been all that mattered to him, but now he was ashamed of the fact that he'd gone. "How is he now?"

  "He's up now and waiting for you on the gallery, but he's very weak. He can only be out of bed for a few hours at a time."