Scandal
by
Janice Sagraves

ONE

The heavy, iron-barred gates clanked shut behind him, followed by the heavy tread of the guard’s brogans as he walked away. Hawk-like yellowish brown eyes rose to the somber March sky, tossed by storm clouds and devoid of the sun’s friendly countenance. Fingers, callused from fifteen years at heard labor, tightened on the handle of the grip, and lungs inhaled the fresh air of freedom, even though he knew it would bring on the spate of coughing. That, however, wasn’t enough to expunge the memory of those years that had been taken from him, and the ever-present sparks of revenge that dwelled within his soul took full command. He took in another cleansing breath – and this time he only hacked a little – but it only stoked the fire that had smoldered inside him since the day the jury had rendered its guilty verdict, and increased in the last few weeks. A gust of wind ruffled the thick chestnut hair at the back of his head beneath the brim of his hat, and his free hand clenched into a fist. His so-called friend had been the cause of all his grief. If not for the traitor’s damning testimony at the trial he would have been acquitted, his lawyer had said as much. Well now the shoe was on the other foot, and it made no difference that the one most responsible for his incarceration had died. The wife, the betrayer, that he had loved and her family still lived, and vengeance burned hot with coppery flames. He would have his payback, and he would revel in it, short lived as he knew it must be.

*******

Angelica Cartwright sat on the wine-colored settee, her dark brown head bowed over the letter her husband had brought from town that morning. Flames snapped in the large stone hearth in the silence of the room, and her hands tightened on the page of creased paper. It had been a long, hectic day, and once she had gotten the children down for the night had been her first chance to read it.

Adam Cartwright poured his second brandy then returned the decanter to the liquor cabinet and closed the beveled glass doors. His dark hazel eyes stayed on his wife as he took a halfhearted sip. That the contents of the correspondence from her sister had an unsettling effect on her, he had no doubt in his mind. She had always enjoyed hearing from her family back in Maine, but this time things were different. He could see the worry that lined her forehead, and the consternation that overshadowed her deep violet eyes. His hand tightened on the delicate snifter as he took another indolence sip.

With a crinkle, the paper crushed in Angelica’s hands as her gaze set on the fire as it devoured the logs. Her mind whirled in her skull and reasoning eluded her. She knew her father, and she couldn’t make herself believe any of this. She looked back at the letter, and the impulse to burn it grew stronger by the second. Then a gentle hand on her shoulder made her look up to be greeted by compassionate eyes, and that perfect mouth pulled into concern.

“Angel.” He put the snifter on the table then sat beside her. His eyes flicked to the paper, and he tried to pull it from her, but her grip tightened on it. “Let me read it.” Her hand released its stranglehold, and he took the letter.

With each word that passed before him to form complete sentences, a small orb of heat came to life in his chest. He had never been fortunate enough to know Hiram Cadence, but through Angelica and her mother, now his stepmother, he had become acquainted with the many aspects of the man, and he liked what he had learned. In many ways the man who would have been his father-in-law made him think of his own father: self-reliant, honest to a fault, and very protective of his family.

“Oran Bushnell, that name has a familiar ring to it.”

“It should if you were in the habit of reading a newspaper, any newspaper, fifteen years ago. The sordid details were splashed all over them from one end of the country to the other.”

“That would have made it 1853. I was in Boston attending college. Granted, I didn’t have much time for the reading of newspapers, but it was the talk of the campus, and I don’t remember your father’s name in any of it, but then I had other things on my mind.”

“All the employees that testified were protected by the company as much as possible. But their names still made it into print for the entertainment of the good people of Bangor.”

A light went on in his face. “Now I remember. Bushnell had embezzled company funds to the tune of seventy-thousand dollars over a period of almost a year, if memory serves me right.”

“Seventy-thousand, eight-hundred-and-ninety-nine, to be precise. The amount has forever been burned into my mind, as well as my brothers’ and sisters’. And Mother, poor, dear Mother got so that she hardly left the house for fear of being accosted by someone who wanted to know all the grim facts.” The corners of her mouth pinched, and her hands wrung together. “Reporters, parasites that they are, simply couldn’t resist the temptation to harass the wife and children of the star witness for the prosecution to dig up as much dirt as they could.” Purple sparks began to dance in her eyes. “One even had the temerity to hint that another employee was involved, and they made no bones about who they thought it was.” A cold smirk spread her mouth. “But threats of a lawsuit for libel brought a quick retraction, and an abject apology. The man who owned the company that my father worked for was one of the richest in Bangor. He had broken those who crossed him before, and they knew he could and would again.”

“He must have thought very highly of your father.”

“They were good friends; in fact, when Daddy’s lost his job the man he had hired him right away. There was talk of favoritism when he rose to a high position in less than three years, but those who knew my father knew what a hard, diligent worker he was, and weren’t a bit surprised.” She took a deep breath. “But the squelching to the newspaper story didn’t really help anything. The seed had been sown, and there were those, mostly Daddy’s enemies, what few he had, who wanted to believe it. And the malicious gossips, may a pox be on them all, had found something juicy that they weren’t about to let go of.” Her head dropped, and her hand went to her forehead as her eyes closed. “The dust had finally settled only to be agitated again.”

He put his arm around her, and rested the side of his face against the top of her head. “People can be so cruel and unfeeling sometimes, and way too many like to talk way too much about things they know very little or absolutely nothing about. I know this must be tearing your family to pieces.”

“Of course it is, and it’s hard not being with them.”

“Then I think we should go out there.”

She pulled back and set her eyes right on him.

“I don’t know what we can do that the family isn’t already, but I think we should go if for no other reason than to give our support. It would give you a chance to feel like maybe you’re fighting back against this.”

“Oh, Adam, that would be wonderful.”

“All right, then, it’s all settled, but we’ll go only on one condition.”

The quizzical tilt of her head asked the question that she was too polite to voice.

“That we take Maggie along.”

“I don’t think we need Maggie for this.”

“Of course, we do. She will be a great help with the children on such a long trip.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I hope you didn’t seriously believe that we were going to leave them behind this time.”

Her tears glistened as her hands closed together at her throat. “Oh, that would be even more wonderful. The boys have grown so, and Elizabeth’s aunts and uncles have never even seen her. I hope we can leave before the end of the week.”

“I’ll make arraignments for the day after tomorrow, but first I want to send a wire to Pa and let him know what’s going on.”

Panic took her over and fear splashed itself across her face. “Adam, please don’t. Mother knows nothing about this, and if we can do something about it, she never has to. It would kill her.”

He wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled. “Pa knows how to keep a secret, and I think it would be best if he knew, just in case she does find out.”

“I suppose you’re right”

“Of course I am.” A frown drew his dense eyebrows down. “I think I should also see Steve.”

More panic. “Fiona doesn’t know either. As the youngest, we have always tried to protect her.”

“She’s a woman now, married with a child. Fiona has always struck me as someone who can handle what life throws at her, no doubt thanks to the influence of her parents. I think it would be doing her a great disservice not to tell her, and she does have Steve.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“I suppose I have been wrong about things before, but I don’t think this is one of them.”

“Just so long as Mother doesn’t find out.”

“We’ll do our best not to let her.” He put his arms around her, and she snuggled close against his chest. His hold tightened in an effort to stave off her trembling. “We won’t let this man get away with this atrocity, an obvious attempt to besmirch your father’s reputation all for the sake of revenge.”

“I hope that’s what it really is.”

“You can’t believe that your father…”

“No, but Bushnell’s motivation could be driven by something far more sinister…. Jealousy.”

“I don’t understand.”

She pulled back, and looked into his face. “He knew Mother before Daddy did.”

TWO

A mist of fine rain intermixed with large flakes of wet snow fell on the city of Bangor as the last train before the noon hour pulled into the station. The first day of spring wouldn’t be for a few days, so the remnants of winter had decided on this as a final fling.

Charles Harper’s eyes scanned over the faces of the people as he craned his neck in an effort to catch sight of the familiar ones he sought. He had been told that they would arrive on the train from St. Louis, but the passengers had long disembarked and still no sight of them.

“Charles!”

He looked around in the direction of the familiar voice, but still he didn’t see who he was looking for.

“Charles!”

This time he managed to zero in on the right direction. A crowd parted, and a smile spread under his dark blond mustache. “Angelica.” He made his way forward, dodging people with adroit ease yet he still almost ran over an errant child. “I was beginning to think I was never going to find you in this madhouse.”

Elizabeth Cartwright – her eyes almost as huge and round as her brothers’ – sat in her mother’s arms. Adam carried Addy and Benjy, and Maggie O’Shea had taken charge of smaller Hiram.

“It’s good to you see you again, Charles. It’s been a while.” Adam beamed as only a proud father could. “I’d shake your hand, but as you can see I’m a little occupied at the moment.”

Charles watched the children so mesmerized by their surroundings. “Then let me take him.”

Benjy was handed over, and his wary eyes set right on the face of this stranger who now held him.

“Hello, Mr. Cartwright. I’m your Uncle Charles, and I’m so glad that you’ve come and brought your family with you.” He nestled the boy against his shoulder. “The carriage it waiting out front. I’ll have someone send your luggage on to the house then we can be on our way. Please come with me.”

As they started toward the front of the station, Angelica quickened her step to catch up with her brother-in-law. “I hope that Lucinda isn’t taking this as badly as I fear.”

“You know your sister as well as anyone, so I don’t think I need to tell you that this is having a very adverse effect. It has really knocked her well manicured world off center. We both know that she isn’t one much for alcoholic libations, but these days she’s tippling at the sherry a bit more heavily than is usual for her.”

In an instant Angelica’s mind went back to what she and Adam had just gone through the previous month with Vint Calder, and it unnerved her to think of her own sister in such a position. “That isn’t at all like her. She has always been disdainful of those who allow strong drink to take over and command their lives.”

“And we’ve talked extensively about it, but she’s insistent that it’s only a small escape, and that I shouldn’t worry myself about it.”

But Angelica could see that he was worried, and he wasn’t the only one. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so surprised. She is, after all, so much like Daddy, and he did have a tendency to lean a little too much on the bottle when things closed in on him, and became difficult to control.”

“I remember. The night before Lucinda and I were married your father and I went to the Heritage Club, and over several cognacs, and a good cigar we got to know one another quite well.”

They went out through a pair of thick, wooden doors. A sudden blast of cold, ice-studded wind caught them all in the face with unexpected force and made Elizabeth cry. Angelica snuggled her daughter’s face against her neck, and patted the petite back.

Charles shifted Benjy to his other arm. “The carriage is right over here.”

A slim man in his early forties – the shoulders of his dark gray coat white with snow – appeared and opened the door of the shiny double brougham. “I’ve already given orders to have the luggage sent on to the house.”

Charles gave him a nod. “Very good, Turner.”

Adam and Charles helped the ladies and children inside then got in themselves. Turner climbed up onto the seat, pulled his high hat down around his ears and gave the reins a flick. The horses’ hooves clopped over the wet street and they were on their way.

*******

It was, under normal conditions, about a fifteen minute drive to the affluent part of the city where the Harpers lived. They still made it in good time, though the weather did slow them a trifle. Tall trees, still winter-bare, lined either side of the long winding drive that cut through the neat, well manicured front lawn that led to the two-story red brick house. The grass had taken on a faint white cast as the snow continued to build.

The pair of fine bays was reined to a halt before the white painted entrance portico. Turner got down and opened the coach door. “We’re here, Mr. Harper.”

Lucinda Harper was about halfway down the staircase that curved through the opulent, grand entrance, a half full glass of sherry in one hand, when the front door opened. A gust of winter wind entered with the bundled troop, but Charles was quick to close it out.

Lucinda stood as if it had frozen her in place, her free hand clenched on the polished banister. “Angelica.” Her pace resumed as she wafted the rest of the way down like an airy will-o’-the-wisp.

“Careful, I’m wet.”

“I don’t care.” Lucinda sat the glass on the entrance table then threw her arms around her sister, baby-and-all. “It is just so good to have you here.” Then she stepped back and turned. “And Adam.” She gave him a warm embrace.

The clandestine look that Adam and Angelica exchanged spoke plain of surprise intermingled with concern. That Lucinda had never been over fond of him for taking her sister, and being, as she saw it, the reason for her mother’s and Fiona’s departure from Bangor, never had to be put into so many words. This came as a complete shock.

Lucinda’s pale gray eyes darted to the boys. “My how they have grown. They were so small the last time I saw them, and they look even more like their father now.” Then her gaze rose to Elizabeth. “And what a little beauty. Your letters didn’t prepare me for such a lovely child.” She held out her arms. “I hope you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not.” Angelica handed over her daughter.

Elizabeth’s lucid, blue eyes locked on this strange woman’s face. Her fine red eyebrows arched, and then her delicate mouth spread into a jubilant grin.

“Oh, you blessed little thing.” Lucinda kissed the baby and hugged her ever so close.

No, this was not Lucinda at all.

Charles went back out to check on the luggage while Adam and his family, along with Maggie, followed Lucinda upstairs, the sherry forgotten in entirety. Elizabeth, still in her aunt’s arms, settled down like she was where she should always be, and her sweet coos started.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I’m only sorry that Fiona didn’t come.”

Angelica untied the ribbons beneath her chin, and removed her bonnet. “She wanted to, but we both decided that she should stay close, just in case Mother should find out about this.”

“Our baby sister has always been a very bright girl. I think she did the right thing.” Lucinda glanced at her sister with the hint of a devious smirk. “But you’re here, and you have come at a most opportune time. This is the week of the annual Spring Gala Ball. This year it is to be held at the Winthrop mansion.”

“I really don’t think that any of us are up to a party, what with this business with…”

“Nonsense, Angelica, this is the perfect time. It isn’t so often that you get to Bangor, and so many of your friends would love to see you again.” Lucinda’s eyes flicked to Adam as they left the stairs. “And it would be a shame not to introduce Adam to them.”

Angelica caught that wicked half grin so characteristic of their father when he cooked something up. She knew just what Lucinda had in mind. Latonia Goodhue, maybe the biggest gossip in all of Bangor, and most of all the reason Bushnell’s lies spread as they had, never missed one of these, and this would be Angelica’s chance to put that loathsome woman in her proper place. They had never been what one would call friends or even friendly rivals, and the thought made Angelica smile. “You know, sister, it just may not be such a bad idea at that.”

Adam knew when he was being setup. He felt like a chicken that had been staked out to catch a coyote. Women had such devious minds, and any man who found himself caught in their webs was to be pitied. He sighed as he adjusted his sons in his arms. Oh well, what else could he do but go along.

*******

When bedtime came for the children, Angelica couldn’t find her daughter. She got the boys down for the night then went off in search of her precious little stray. She had an idea who would be with the child when she found the baby, and it sparked her hunt.

After a thorough search she headed down for the first level. She had just left the last stair when Adam appeared as if by magic. It was uncanny how he always seemed to know when she needed him.

“I think I know who you’re looking for.” The corners of his mouth turned, and the light glinted in his eyes. “Just come with me.”

He took her by the hand, and she followed him along the wide corridor that led toward the back of the house. This late, the big dwelling had settled quiet, and their feet thumped over the carpeted floor like muffled heartbeats. When they came to a stop they stood at the door to the sitting room. Adam put a finger against his pursed lips then eased it open just enough to see inside.

The small but elegant room was dark save for the flicker of flames from the pink Italian marble hearth. Angelica moved closer so that she could see better. Lucinda sat in a delicate ladies’ chair, and she cradled something in her arms. On closer inspection, Angelica could see that it was a baby. The side of her sister’s head rested against the child’s head and soft contented coos vied with the crackle of the fire. Adam’s arm slipped around his wife, and they looked at each other, then he closed the door and they walked away.

THREE

It would be nice if sunlight flooded the house to erase the gloom, but the grayness from outside only produced more, and in some niches lamps still burned low. Large snowflakes flitted past the windows like gossamer insects trying to get a jump on spring, and built up in the corners of panes to soften the angles.

Adam, revved up from a robust breakfast, had just reached the staircase when he was waylaid by his brother-in-law. “Charles, I thought you’d already gone out.” The words had no sooner been said when Adam noticed Charles’ dismal expression. He lowered his voice. “Whatever it is, I hope it’s not as bad as you look.”

“I just had a visit from Nile Fellowship; he works for me as I guess you would say the eyes and ears of my import/export company. He’s my good right arm, and I’d be lost without him.” Charles took a silver cigar case from his jacket pocket and opened it. “I don’t know what I’m thinking. If I smoke this in here Lucinda’ll kill me.” He snapped it shut and retuned it to the pocket. “What he told me I didn’t like, didn’t like at all. It would appear that Bushnell has upped the ante on us.”

Adam’s hands went to his hips. “I don’t think I’m gonna like it either.”

“I know you’re not.” Charles looked around them. “I’ll tell you all about it, but I don’t want to here where feminine ears can pick up on it. I’ve been lucky thus far, and I don’t want to stretch that luck past the breaking point. They’ll find out soon enough, but I’d like to know more so I can soften the blow, if that’s possible.”

“I wish you could give me just one small hint.”

Charles’ eyes grew keen. “When we get outside.”

Adam agreed without another word. They got their coats and hats from the cloak room, and left by the back door from the pantry. The snow swirled around them in the vortex the wind produced as it got caught by the stone wall at the rear of the house.

Adam pulled his collar up around his neck and glared at the slate gray sky. “All right, I don’t think anybody’s gonna hear us out here, except maybe for some frozen birds.”

Charles jerked his head sideways as a sudden gust caught him in the face. “Verina Cadence has been brought into this, and not in a good way.”

Adam went still as a statue, and his fingers dug into the lapels of his coat. “Before we left home, Angelica mentioned that her mother had known this man before she met and married Hiram Cadence, and she used the word jealousy in connection with the relationship.”

“I would say that that’s as good a one as any for the dirt he’s spreading. And you know how gossip mongers love to sink their teeth into something nice and juicy, no matter whether it’s true or not or who gets hurt. And they never stop to check out the facts first, they could detract from the sordidness.”

“Last night Angelica was telling me about a woman named Latonia Goodhue.”

“She’s the ringleader. If she gets wind of this, and I have no reason to believe that she hasn’t already, it’ll spread like a wildfire and be exaggerated beyond any truth there might be to it.”

“You can’t actually believe that a woman such as Verina could possibly…”

“This allegedly happened a long time ago when she was much younger, and even the best of us stumble, especially at that age, but she didn’t.”

“You still aren’t gonna tell me what it is.”

“I think it would be best if we went to my offices. Nile’s been on top of this thing right from the beginning. I think you should hear it from him.”

“I should have been let in on this when he was at the house.”

“You were with your family at the time, and I didn’t want to arouse any suspicions.”

“Okay, but I think we need to do this fast. We want to be the ones to tell Angelica and Lucinda before they find out from somebody who isn’t as sympathetic.”

“I couldn’t agree more, but this isn’t the only reason we’re going out. There’s someone else I want you to meet.”

They hunkered down and walked out into the bite of the wind in the direction of the stable. There was no time to waste. Charles had been dead on the mark when he said this would spread like a wildfire, and the thought of those he loved being hurt by this caused a cauldron to boil in his chest. He already didn’t like Oran Bushnell, and if they were ever put in the same room together, he feared one wouldn’t walk away, at least, not in the same condition as when he arrived.

*******

Nile Fellowship, a spare young man with ash brown hair receding over the temples, paced back-and-forth before the three arched windows in Charles’ large office. He stopped long enough to look out over the docks. “When it was first told to me, I found myself wishing it hadn’t been. I remember Mrs. Cadence from when I was a boy, and I hate the idea of any of this touching her, most of all in such a way. She’s a fine lady, and I don’t need to be told so.” His hands tightened about his coffee cup as he stopped before the stove. “This man Bushnell is going out of his way to do harm to the memory of Hiram Cadence and his family to boot, and some would say that he’s justified, but not me, not this. I, personally, think he should be taken out and made to quietly disappear, but then that’s only me.”

Adam’s dense eyebrows knit. “Not only you.”

Nile stared at the flicker of the fire through the vents in the stove’s door. “He’s been in the city for less than two weeks, and he’s already agitated a real hornet’s nest.”

“Tell Mr. Cartwright everything you told me at the house.”

Nile’s onyx eyes went blacker – if possible – as he turned around. “All right, though I can’t say that I like the thought of repeating it. It’s hateful and I hate to imagine what the wagging tongues of Bangor are going to do with it.” He took a sip and his nose wrinkled.

“Go ahead, Nile.”

“He says there was a baby before she ever married Hiram Cadence, and the fact that he came along after only eight months was told away as his only being premature.”

Adam cursed and shot from the brown leather chair he had been sitting in. “That’s a foul lie, and nothing more.”

Charles took hold of Adam’s arm and tugged him back down into his seat. “Go on, Nile.”

“He says that Hiram Jr. should really have been named Oran Jr.”

Adam began to seethe like a volcano just waiting for the right time to erupt.

Nile sat his cup on the corner of the desk. “According to him, he and Verina planned to marry until his best friend took her away. The baby was a mistake, but it only pushed the plans for their nuptials to accelerate. Then he made the mistake of introducing her to Hiram, and that was the end of their relationship. In short, Hiram Cadence stole her away from him, and she went willingly.”

Adam’s face had become as hard as chiseled granite. “Yet, after over thirty years, he says nothing until he gets out of prison. This whole thing smacks of revenge to me.”

“It should to anyone who bothers to look, but I doubt that few people will. All they’ll see is a jilted suitor, an embezzler turning on his accomplice, and a tryst that produced an illegitimate birth, all the elements of a good scandal. And I’m afraid that’s exactly what we have on our hands.”

“All to smear the reputation of the man who put him in prison. I can understand his going after Hiram, but this…” Adam turned his attention to Charles, and his mouth took on the appearance of a hard crag. “You said there was somebody else you wanted me to meet.”

“That’s right.”

“Then I suggest we don’t waste any more time and just do what needs to be done.”

No one tried to stop Adam as he rushed out.

Nile came to stand beside his employer, and they both watched after his exit. “It looks like you may have some trouble with him.”

“I hope so.” Charles rested a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “In case I didn’t tell you back at the house, good work Nile.” He sighed, and shook his head. “It’s only too bad you didn’t hear it sooner, maybe then we could’ve at least stopped this part of it.”

“I’m sorry for that, and not for myself.”

“I know. Now tell me again where he said he wanted to meet.”

Adam stalked from one side of the outer office to the other like a restless tiger in a cage. His fingers knotted on the brim of his hat, and his long legs drove him like the mechanism of a clock. The secretary at his desk tried to keep his eyes to his work, but the agitation of this tall, dark man made it difficult.

Adam spun as the door to Charles’ office opened and his brother-in-law and young Fellowship stepped out. “It’s about time. I thought we were in a hurry.”

“I shouldn’t be gone long, Nile. You know what to do.”

“Yes, sir. It was really nice to meet you, Mr. Cartwright.”

“And you, I could only wish the circumstances had been better.”

“As do I, Mr. Cartwright, as do I.”

“All right, Adam, let’s go. We have one more stop to make before we go back to the house.”

Adam’s face scrunched as he stuck his hat on his head. “I’d rather face a hoard of yelling, screaming rustlers, and a herd of loco steers in a full blizzard on the coldest day in the last hundred years.”

“That just about says how I feel.” Charles shrugged into his coat.

Nile stepped to the secretary’s desk as they went out. “This is about to get uglier.”

FOUR

Turner let them out in front of a rundown building in one of the seamier parts of Bangor and waited on the other side of the street. Adam and Charles – hats pulled down in front to conceal their identities, although the few people out gave them little to no notice – crossed and went straight inside.

This appeared to have been some sort of warehouse, once upon a time. The front of it had been boarded up, but some light did manage to get in through the spaces. It apparently hadn’t been used for some time for the purpose it was intended, though a few empty packing crates still littered the floor. Birds flew among the rafters and wind whistled through broken window glass. All-in-all, it gave Adam the creeps, and he had to wonder what kind of person would want to meet in such a place.

“Maybe he isn’t coming.”

“He already come,” a high-pitched voice said, in some kind of thick accent.

Adam’s head snapped around, and his right hand went out of instinct to his hip. Charles wasn’t so surprised.

A lean, lanky man in a shabby coat came out of the shadows, but stopped well back so that they concealed his face.

Charles came to stand a little ahead of Adam. “I got your message that you had some new information for me.”

The mysterious man said nothing, but it was obvious from the turn of his head that his eyes were set dead on Adam.

“It’s all right, he’s my brother-in-law, and he has as much of a vested interest in Bushnell as I do. He can be trusted. If I hadn’t thought so I wouldn’t have brought him along.”

The man’s head turned back to Charles. “Word say on the street that this Bushnell want money to shut up, to stop spreading what some call gossip.”

“I don’t for a second believe that. If that truly was his motive behind all this, he would have come to me first.” Charles shook his head. “No, this has nothing to do with money. It’s about revenge, pure, simple and clear cut and nothing more. I believe this talk this about blackmail is just to throw us off.”

“You maybe are right.”

Adam pushed his hat back on his head. “I don’t suppose that you’ve talked to him.”

For a long second the man said nothing then he spoke direct to Charles. “Yes, I talk to him,” amusement entered his voice, “but he not know that I know you. I get impression that he not so smart as he think of himself.”

“That’s what I’ve heard elsewhere, but we have to play it like’s he’s the most brilliant man in the world. That will hopefully give us a leg up.”

A long-bladed knife came from the man’s coat pocket, and it glinted in a shaft of wan light. “I could take care of him for you.” He gave a couple slices through the air. “Shoosh, shoosh, and she done.”

“No, that would only cast a darker light on the Cadence family. Let’s give him enough rope, and hope that he hangs himself, and keep our hands clean.”

The man tittered. “My hands already so unclean little bit more not make no difference.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think we should just sit back and wait. But that doesn’t mean that we won’t continue to keep an eye on his comings and goings, and an ear to his every word. I would prefer, if at all possible, for his undoing to be his own,” Charles chortled, “with a little help from us, of course.”

The man laughed at the idea. “Of course. You the man in charge, and you never steer me wrong.”

Charles stepped to the man until his own features vanished into the murkiness, and they spoke so that Adam couldn’t make it out. Then, after a couple of seconds of such mutterings, the man turned and was gone. After it was apparent that he was gone, Charles returned to Adam.

“I thought you trusted me.”

“I do, but he doesn’t.”

“I can’t imagine you having dealings with such a man.”

“We can’t always pick and choose our associates. He knows the city better than most, and he keeps up with the talk. It helps him in his, uh, work, and it can come in very handy to me.”

Adam glanced off in the direction the man had gone. “He seems very comfortable with this.”

“He was raised in the back alleys and on the docks of Madrid, and that kind of life raises a hard man. Just the kind we need to deal with Bushnell. And there’s nothing that goes on that he doesn’t sooner or later get wind of.”

Adam wasn’t sure he cared for the emphasis his brother-in-law had put on the word deal.

“Now let’s get out of here. We have some unpleasant news to break to our wives.”

Adam swallowed hard. “I think I’d rather stay here.”

“That makes us both.”

They eased forward, and Adam held the door open for Charles. He looked around into the ominous chasm of the empty building. He had no idea where all this was headed and it made his mouth go dry just to think about it. One thing was for sure, though, and that was that he would do what was needed to protect Angelica and her mother, and that meant his father as well. His eyes went to slits, then he went out, and the door closed behind him to echo through the stillness.

*******

Angelica sat on the side of their bed and sniffled into a lace-edged linen hankie. “I don’t want to believe that any of this horrid nightmare is happening.”

Adam sidled closer to her, and grasped her unoccupied hand in his. “Neither do I, but I’m afraid we have no other choice. This man Bushnell has well seen to that.”

“Oh, how I wish he could have been struck down before he was able to carry out his evil plans against such a wonderful man as my father.” She bit into her lower lip. “I wish he had died.”

He took her into his arms and snuggled her close so that her face was hidden against his neck. He could feel her tears on his skin, and it only added to his heartbreak. He let her cry for a few minutes longer then he held her at arm’s length. He took her face in his hands, and used his thumbs to wipe some of the tears from her cheeks. It would be better to be flogged than to say what he was about to.

“I’m afraid that I haven’t given you the worst of it.”

“I don’t see how it could get any worse than this.”

“He’s going after your mother now.”

The crying stopped, and her eyes went vivid purple. “Mother. Why that low, vile, despicable…”

“Angel, you need to tell me everything you know about the relationship between this man and your mother.”

“Adam, I’m surprised at you. You know Mother, and you can’t believe that she…”

“I want; I need to know how far the relationship between this man and your mother went.” He took a firm grip of her shoulders. “He’s saying that your brother Hiram is his.”

“That’s only another disgusting lie. All right, yes it’s true that they were considered an item until she met Daddy, but Hiram Jr. is his son, and we have never had any doubt of that. Mother has always been the perfect lady. She has never talked much about Oran Bushnell, but she once told me that marriage was his idea. She didn’t want to marry him, and she said as much, but he wasn’t the kind to take no as an answer from a woman. He and Daddy seemed to stay on friendly terms, though they seemed strained at times, but it has always been suspected that a lust for revenge lurked in the background. Well, he found his chance, and he’s taking full advantage of it.”

“If there’s any reason to believe this is nothing more than a vicious lie then I need to know about it.” He gave her a jostle. “Angelica.”

“Hiram was born after barely eight months, and there was even talk then, but the doctor who brought him into the world said so that Hiram was premature. He was smaller than he should have been, and not a nine months baby.”

“I need to talk to this doctor.”

“I afraid that’s impossible. Dr. Lovejoy died the year we were married. His heart simply gave out, and his wife found him dead, sitting at his desk.”

“Maybe somebody else.”

She shook her head. “Everyone present at the time, except for Mother, is dead, and we can’t go to her. She can never know about this dreadful business.” Then all the sudden her eyes went round as silver dollars, and her mouth fell agape. “Oh.” Her hand flew up. “The birthmark.”

“Birthmark, I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before now. It’s so obvious. Of course. Every boy baby born into the Cadence family, all the way back to my great-great-grandfather, has a dark red birthmark in the shape of a crescent moon on the right shoulder blade.”

“Please tell me that Hiram has it.”

“Yes, I’ve seen it many times as we were growing up. All my brothers have it just like our father did.”

He blew out a breath. “Well, that part of his story won’t be difficult to disprove, but that still leaves your father, and what Bushnell is saying about him.”

“I would think that when people realize that he lied about Mother they would see that…” Her eyes fell, and a shrewd sort of calm entered them.

Adam could see the cogs working behind those cunning purple eyes, and he knew that devious brain was conjuring. “Angelica Cartwright, I know that look.”

Her attention returned to him, and she took on the appearance of a Cheshire cat. “When we first arrived, Lucinda suggested we go to the Spring Gala Ball.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Of course, it’s perfect, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And what with Latonia Goodhue being there, why it would be a terrible shame not see her after all this time.”

“From what I’ve been told about her, the woman is an odious, conceited, overbearing tattler who loves a good scandal better than to eat, and I can just imagine that she is behind all this.”

Her grin broadened, and her eyes took on the innocence of a child caught in the act of a misdeed. “I course.”

“I was right. You are up to something.”

“And I’ll tell you all about it, but I want to talk to Lucinda first.” She threw her arms around him. “You have my word that everything’s going work beautifully.”

Sometimes it was like being married to an exuberant, mischievous little girl who couldn’t help herself, and he loved her all the more for it. Her soft lips brushed his ear. It sent a chill racing along his spine, and his arms squeezed around her. Would he ever learn?

FIVE

Angelica and Maggie were in the sitting room down in the floor with the children before the fireplace. It had been two days since the family’s arrival in Bangor, and keeping them diverted proved to be a constant task. The boys had their favorite blocks, which had been brought along for their entertainment properties, and Elizabeth was helping her brothers make their stacks. Addy, so obvious to not be in the mood for her interference, slapped her hand away hard. Instead of letting go with a wail, though, her mouth puckered, and she hit him back, maybe even a little harder. Now the bawling started.

“Mama.” He pulled himself up and toddled over to his mother. “Mama, Beffy hit.”

“Well, now you did hit her first, and little boys aren’t supposed to hit little girls.” This only increased his crying as he snuggled his head into her bosom. She stroked his soft, black capped head and tried not to show any amusement as her gaze darted to Maggie. “You must remember not to do that any more.” She held him away from her, and used her fingers to wipe his face. “Now let’s dry those tears and stop this crying.”

His sobbing abated, but something still troubled him. “Dahdee mad.”

“We won’t tell Daddy. Now you go play and say that you’re sorry.”

Not happy about the prospect, he rejoined his siblings; though he might as well have not for all the notice they gave him. The little grump just sat there, his hands wadded into tight balls. For about a second this went on, then Elizabeth looked around. Her mouth opened wide, and she leaned toward him as her arms spread.

“There, all is forgiven. She wants a kiss.” When nothing happened. “Addy.”

The little boy allowed it, but anyone could see that he only wanted get it done and return to his play.

Things had just gotten back into their routine when a horrendous crash entered their sanctuary. It frightened the children and unnerved the women.

“Maggie, stay with the children while I see what’s happened.”

“Yes, mum.”

Angelica gathered herself up and went out into the wide corridor. She didn’t see anything that wasn’t as it should be. “Lucinda.” She started forward with cautious steps. Again she spoke her sister’s name as she came around the foot of the staircase into the entryway. At once she froze. “Lucinda!”

Lucinda lay near the bottom step amid shards of clear and green glass and a pool of kerosene which had soaked into the carpet. An overturned table lay close by. It was quite apparent that she was unconscious.

Angelica dropped to her side, took one of her hands and began to pat the back of it. “Lucinda, Lucinda.” A shadow fell over her, and she looked up at the plump, sliver-haired woman. “Mrs. Breckenridge, please go send someone for the doctor, then find my husband and send him in.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

“And someone needs to be sent for Charles.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The woman scurried away toward the back of the house, and Angelica returned her focus to her sister. “Please, Lucinda, open your eyes.” She gave her sister’s cheek a few light slaps, but even that didn’t work.

Panic wanted to close in on her, but Angelica knew that never solved anything. This terrible thing they had been going through had been grinding on them all, but maybe Lucinda the most. Their mother had never showed favoritism toward any one of her children, but Hiram Jr. and Lucinda had been their father’s favorites, though he had tried not to show it. And Lucinda had been just as devoted to his memory as she had been him, so this entire mess had really shaken her to her foundation.

Angelica’s head come up with a yank as someone rushed in behind her, and her heart bounded at the sight of her husband. “I don’t know what happened. Maggie and I were playing with the children when we heard a ghastly crash, and I found her like this. I can’t get her to wake up.”

Adam crouched and took his sister-in-law’s hand. He said her name, but it fell on deafened ears. “I think we’d better get her upstairs to her room.”

“Someone has already gone for Charles and a doctor.”

“Good.” He gathered the unconscious woman into his arms with a rustle of taffeta and petticoats.

Kerosene and tiny pieces of glass glistened in her hair caught in the glow of the chandelier as Adam started up the stairs with her. Angelica rushed past him and met him at the bedroom. She already had the door opened and followed him inside. One of Lucinda’s arms fell at her side as he placed her on the bed as one would a fine porcelain figurine. Angelica retrieved the wash basin and pitcher and the towel from the washstand. She deposited them on the night table and filled the basin with water then sat beside her sister.

“I don’t suppose she’s said anything to you about feeling poorly.”

Angelica dipped the towel into the water and rung it out. “Not one word, but then it wouldn’t be like Lucinda to do so. And since we arrived, she has been so occupied with the children that I haven’t seen her drink anything more than the wine for supper.” She wiped her sister’s face then sponged back the loose tendrils of soft brown hair. “This thing with that reprehensible man has been telling on us all, but Lucinda has never been like the rest of us. I could see that something wasn’t as it should been when we first got here. It’s not like her to gush on over children so.”

He crooked an ironic grin, and that lone eyebrow rose. “Or to even notice me. When she put her arms around me and hugged I thought I was gonna faint dead away.”

“That came as a bit of a shock to me as well. And the look on poor Charles’ face.”

“Yeah, I caught that, too.”

With a slight moan, Lucinda began to stir. One hand raised, and Angelica grasped it. Lucinda’s eyes came open, and she blinked to clear them. “Angelica.”

“You’re in your own room, Lu. Adam carried you up.”

Lucinda’s gaze drifted to him. “Thank you.” She held her other hand out to him, and he took it. Her attention returned to Angelica. “It has been so long since you have called me Lu. I like it.”

“You didn’t when we were children, and maybe that’s why I did.”

“I know it was, but then I was a bit stodgy.”

“You were never that though you could be a little too proper, and you wanted us to be.”

Lucinda tittered. “I was fighting a loosing battle.”

Angelica ran her fingertips over Lucinda’s hair. “A doctor is coming, and so is Charles.”

Lucinda’s eyes enlarged. “Oh, my poor, dear Charles. I hope he doesn’t hurt himself getting here. He’s always so calm and sensible and in control, but last week I fell off a stool, and I have never seen a man in such a state. You would have thought I had seriously injured myself.”

Angelica glanced at Adam, and it spoke volumes. “I didn’t know about this, and I imagine there’s a lot more I don’t know about.”

“It hasn’t been anything really, just some dizziness now and then. It has been more of a bother than anything.”

Angelica’s mouth drew into a firm bow. “And of course if this were the only time you fainted you would have no doubt told someone.”

Lucinda’s eyes closed for a second. “It isn’t the first time.”

“I suspected as much.”

Downstairs the front door slammed and sounded more like the explosion of a shotgun. Feet pounded up the stairs and along the hall then a very much frazzled Charles Harper stood in the doorway. “Lucinda.”

*******

Adam thought Charles would soon wear through the carpet to the bare floor if the doctor didn’t come out soon. His legs drove him from one end of the hall to the other then back. Adam didn’t know him all that well, but from what he had seen of the man so far, this was very much out of character for him. But then a man – any man – in love did have a penchant to become irrational when that love was endangered. And that Charles Harper was in love with his wife only a fool would not have been aware of.

Charles’ eyes shot to the door as he passed it. “They’ve been in there for hours.”

Adam grinned and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Closer to twenty minutes or so, I’d say.”

Charles didn’t even seem to hear. “I don’t know why she’s kept this from me.”

“Maybe she didn’t want to worry you, especially in light of what is going on.”

Charles turned at the window and started the other way. “Well she shouldn’t have. If she’s sick, as her husband, I have the right to know.”

Adam put his hand to his mouth to hide his amusement. From his close association with his Angelica he had an idea what the problem was, if one wanted to call it a problem, and he hoped that he turned out to be right.

The door opened, and Charles spun around so fast that it thought to topple him. Adam pushed away from the wall.

“My wife.”

The doctor rolled down a sleeve. “Lucinda’s just fine, but you go on in. She has something to tell you.”

Charles’ eyes darted to Adam then he brushed past the doctor and into the room.

The doctor extended his right hand out. “I’m afraid there wasn’t time for us to be properly introduced. I’m Dr. Hansel Moore.”

“Adam Cartwright.” He shook the husky man’s hand.

“So you’re the man who took Angelica, Verina and Fiona away, and separated the family.” He ran his thick fingers back through his heavy, silver-streaked dark auburn hair. “Lucinda has told me quite a bit about you.”

“I would wager not what one would call flattering.”

The doctor cleared his throat. “Uh, yes.”

Angelica came out and closed the door behind her. “I thought it best to leave them alone. This is something that a woman should tell her husband in privacy.”

Adam’s eyes caught Angelica’s, and they just looked at each other, and he saw that flicker. He had been right.

Charles sat leaned forward against Lucinda as she rubbed the back of his head.

“Don’t you ever frighten me like that again.” He looked into her eyes. “I couldn’t live without you, you know that.”

“Charles, I know that you have always wanted a child.”

“I don’t understand why you bring that up now. I long ago accepted…” His eyes explored her face, and he saw something there that he never had before. A long breath expanded his lungs, and he thought he would burst. His jaw dropped, and his head tilted to one side. Her nod was all the answer he needed. “Oh, Lucinda, a baby.” He scooped up, and clutched her to him. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Her arms closed around him. “For you, I hope it’s a boy.”

“I don’t care. As long as you’re both healthy and safe, I just don’t care.”

SIX

Since the revelation from the day before, Charles and Lucinda Harper floated around like a pair of ghosts with their heads in the clouds. They were hard to pin down in one place for very long, but Angelica was determined to try with her sister. Adam had gone to the import business with Charles in hopes of keeping him from walking in front of an omnibus.

“I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to find you.”

Lucinda looked up from where she knelt in the attic floor before a tarp covered object. Hazy light came in through the front octagonal window, which had been opened a vent in spite of the cold outside.

Angelica left the last step. She shivered. “Ooh, it’s freezing in here. I don’t see how you can stand it.”

“I’ve been hot as a stove all morning, and it got worse when I came up here.”

“Well I’m going to close the window so we both don’t come down with pneumonia. That certainly wouldn’t be good for the baby.” Angelica went to the front gabled wall and picked up a long, metal pole with a hook on the end of it which she used to close the window and throw the latch. “There, that’s much better. It should start to warm up some now.” She put the pole back then went to her sister. “I think I may know what that is.” She got into the floor.

Lucinda’s eyes glittered like radiant diamonds. “It was given to me because I was the first to be married.”

“Unveil it, sister, before the suspense eats you up.”

Lucinda pulled the covering away to reveal a much-used cradle. The body of it – where the child slept – rested in a framework with turned spindles at both ends. They were attached to triangular feet with a brace between them for added stability. In places the dark varnish had been rubbed thin by the placement of many hands through the years. There were gouges and nicks, and one of the bottom supports had a slight surface charring.

Lucinda ran her hand over the top of the cradle and it began to sway with a gentle motion. “Mother and Father have rocked all of us to sleep many times in this old friend. Until we were too big.”

It gave Angelica great delight to just sit and observe her sister. Then her pleasure became concern as Lucinda changed into something more troubled.

“I don’t understand all this, but then I guess I’m not supposed to. A miracle has been given to me, and it isn’t my place to question it.” She ran her fingers along the worn top slat of the cradle where her parents’ hands had many times rocked a sleepy or fussy baby. “Fourteen years of marriage with only each other, to be told after two that you could never have a little one of your own.” Her eyes became bright with harbored tears. “I know I should have been closer to my nieces and nephews for it, but I couldn’t seem to. I told myself over and over that I was lucky to not be encumbered by such a burden.” Her chin trembled. “But deep in my heart I know I never absolutely believed that.”

Angelica rested a hand on her sister’s wrist. “That’s why it has come as such a surprise for you to make over mine and Adam’s children.” She giggled. “And when you acknowledged Adam and then embraced him, well…”

“I know, I have been abhorrent to him, and it is unforgivable. But the family has never been separated before, and I had to blame someone.”

“He has never born you any ill feelings because of it, though I know it has hurt that you didn’t like him and shunned him as you have. If you hadn’t been my sister I don’t think it would have mattered as much.”

“This that is happening with that terrible Bushnell man I think has opened my eyes to things that I haven’t allowed myself to see. And one of them is that your husband is a part of this family and should be treated as such, and…,” her eyes fell for a second, “my wonderful Charles. I don’t think I have ever appreciated what a truly fine man he is. This has made us closer, and I have sought him out as my refuge, my sanctuary in this storm.”

“Maybe that explains why the baby now, this is the right time.”

“Well one thing is for certain. It will be loved.”

“Of that I have never had any doubt. Adam and I have watched you with Elizabeth and the boys these past few days, and we have seen it plain as day. Whether you want to admit it or not, Lu, you are a veritable fount bubbling over with love and it is going to spill onto your husband and your child. This is the real Lucinda that I know has been hidden from us for so long, and it is way over due that she emerged from her cocoon.”

“You sound like an authority on the subject.”

“I’m not, but Adam is. He spent much of his life doing the very same thing…,” a dark cloud passed over Angelica’s face, “until he almost died without knowing who he was, and it made him realize many things. The two of you have more in common than you have let yourself be aware of.”

Lucinda let go of the cradle and sat back on her folded legs. Her head dropped, and her hands covered her face, and soft sobs made their way out between her fingers. Angelica scooted closer and put her arms around her sister’s shaking shoulders. It wasn’t like Lucinda to just break down and cry, but then she had never been on the threshold of motherhood before either, and Angelica understood as any woman who had never had a baby would.

“He must hate me.”

“When Adam hates it’s with intense passion and all the way, and I pity anyone who finds themselves on the other end of it. But you are his sister, so to speak, and he doesn’t hate you at all.”

Lucinda looked up, and the light shone on her wet face “When I’m wrong, I’m always very wrong.”

“It’s a family trait inherited from our father.”

“Oh, how I remember that.” She swiped the back of one hand against her cheek. “He was never very good at mending things around the house, and poor Mother was continually hiring someone to repair what he had fixed.”

Angelica giggled. “It wasn’t that he wasn’t good with his hands, he just constantly made the wrong decisions about how to do it.” Then an air of pride rose into her eyes. “But what a mind he had for business and finance.”

“Yes, and in that way my Charles makes me think of him.”

Angelica could see the new tears that waited to come on stage, and she decided to head them off. She scooted around in front of Lucinda and grasped her sister’s hands. “I need your help with something.”

Lucinda blinked as if she had just looked into glaring sunlight.

“I need a proper dress to wear to the ball, and I’m afraid I didn’t bring anything that would do. I hadn’t planned on attending any parties. In all that is going on I clean forgot about the Spring Gala. The most elegant thing I brought is dark emerald, and I fear the ladies wouldn’t approve.”

“All the more reason to wear it.” In the dawning of an idea, the old cunning Lucinda emerged, and a crafty smile curved her lips. “But I have something better in mind. And since the ball isn’t until the day after tomorrow, there’s plenty of time.”

Angelica knew that expression well – she had seen it many times. She knew that someone was in trouble, and she suspected she knew who, and, to tell the truth, she hoped she was right.

*******

Adam stood at the arched windows in Charles’ office. He sipped at a cup of fine Mandarin Spice tea as he looked out across the Bangor docks. It wasn’t the kind of view one would want outside one’s bedroom window to wake up to each morning, but for here it was a perfect fit. He could see the men below as they worked at loading and unloading the ships that came in. Tall masts thrust sharp spires along the horizon, and their sheets billowed and filled with the breezes that blew in from the water. Off to the right were two steam vessels of the side wheel design both painted red and white. Their tall black stacks were capped with what looked like crowns. And why not? They were, after all, princesses. Oh what he wouldn’t give to ply the sea in one of those just once.

The door opened behind him, but he didn’t turn around. “Good morning, Mr. Fellowship.”

Nile froze with his hand on the polished brass doorknob then he shook his head and started toward the desk with a stack of papers. “I still haven’t figured out how you know it’s me when you don’t even look.”

“It’s your shoes.” Adam’s gaze drifted to the young man as he took a sip. “They make a fine click every time you take a step.”

Nile looked down at his feet. “I’ve never noticed.”

“I have.”

Nile’s eyebrows curved, and he shrugged as he put the papers on the corner of the desk. “Mr. Harper said to tell you that he wouldn’t be long. He had a small errand to run.”

“Nothing major, I would hope.”

“He didn’t enlighten me, so I can say it had nothing to do with the business. He would have told me if it did. I can get you anything you need before I go.”

Adam shook his head. “This is fine. I’m not in want of a thing.”

“Very well, but don’t hesitate let me or the secretary know if you should be.”

“I will.”

With a polite nod, Nile left.

Adam took a sip and turned toward the other side of the room across from the desk. In no great hurry, he sauntered over to the large glass case that sat on a wooden table close to the wall. Inside was a very detailed model of a three-masted schooner, complete with rigging and furled sails. He guessed it to be – from stern to the tip of its bowsprit – four feet in length give or take an inch. From its keel to the end of its two highest masts he figured it to be closer to five. And the name painted on it was Spirit.

“That was the ship that got me started in this business.”

Adam looked around as Charles – a white box tied in yellow ribbon tucked under his arm – entered and closed the door behind him.

“It was like losing an old friend when she broke up on the rocks in a storm off New Bedford three years ago. Fortunately, though, all the crew managed to get off before she went down with all her cargo. So I had that made so I could look at her every time I sat at my desk.”

“It’s very impressive.” Adam took a casual sip.

“It ought to be, I paid a pretty penny for it, but it was well worth it, and I would do it all over again.” He sat the box on his desk, and it sent some of the papers Nile had put there to skitter across the floor. “You know, if you were a woman, the first thing you would’ve wanted to know was what’s in this.”

Adam peered back over his shoulder. “Now that you mention it.”

“There’s this little shop just up the street.” He began to undo the ribbon. “I pass by it every day to and from here. It got so I hardly noticed it, but this time was different.”

Adam came to stand beside him, and scrutinized him from the corners of his eyes. “The baby shop.”

“Until now I’ve never had any reason to go inside, but today I just couldn’t resist.”

“Charles, your child won’t be born for another seven months.”

“I know, but Lucinda has been so torn to pieces about this thing with her father, and now the ugly talk about her mother…” he pushed the ribbon away, and removed the lid, “I thought she could use something to cheer her up.” He parted back the pastel tissue paper, and revealed a large, white stuffed bunny rabbit with long, floppy ears and pink button eyes.

Adam couldn’t help a snigger.

Charles picked it up, and one ear fell over an eye and the other off to the side. “So tell me what you think.”

Adam sat his cup on the desk, and took the big droopy critter from him. “Well, if this doesn’t elicit a grin from her nothing will.”

A frantic knock sounded on the door then Nile Fellowship entered and came right to them, a folded slip of paper in his hand. “It’s from our mutual acquaintance.” He handed it over to his employer. “A lad brought it in, and he’s waiting in the outer office for your answer.”

Charles unfolded it, and his eyes sharpened as he read. “We’ll meet him at the location by the pier in an hour.”

With a quick nod and a duck of his head, Nile rushed back out.

Charles held out the note, and Adam put the rabbit back into the box and took it. The spelling was atrocious, but the clarity of the message was undeniable. Yur mon on move agin. Met me. Adam handed it back.

They looked at each other then down at the rabbit then back at each other. There was nothing funny about any of this, and their laughter did have a nervous tinge to it, but it was a release. Nile and the secretary burst in, and the expressions they wore only added to it. Adam leaned back against the desk, and Charles wiped tears.

SEVEN

If anything, this place was worse than the previous one. Empty whisky bottles, spent food cans, and wadded sheets of newspaper littered the floor, and in one corner was the filthiest mattress Adam knew he had ever seen. The strong odor of urine and feces wrinkled his nose and watered his eyes, and the fresh air that blew in through the shattered windows was quick to foul.

“Your friend sure can pick some enchanted meeting spots.” Adam felt his stomach flip. “When we get out of here I’m gonna go jump in the river. Fish smell better than this.”

“I doon blame you.”

Adam’s eyes groped the dark recesses of the room for the owner of the now familiar voice. Then motion caught his attention where he had already looked, and a lanky figure came forward. Again he stopped back far enough so that the shadows concealed his face.

Charles hunched his shoulders and pulled his coat collar up around his neck. “Your note didn’t convey much.”

“It better I tell you face-to-face. Maybe wrong person read before it get to you.”

The sides of Adam’s mouth pinched. “You make it sound like maybe Bushnell has an accomplice.”

“No, no accomplice, he not any more so trusting as that,” he gave an offhanded shrug, “unless you catch him drunk, but I think maybe police like to know about this.”

Charles shook his head. “We can’t have them involved, as least not yet.”

“Maybe never.”

“That depends on how much we’re able to accomplish ourselves. If the police come into this it could only make things worse, and make these lies seem more plausible.”

Adam pushed his hat back on his head. “Then I guess we’ll just havta be the ones to convince him of the error of his ways without their help.”

The man chortled. “I like your way to think.”

“Enough of this, you have something to tell us.”

“Bushnell not so happy. Get unhappier ever time I see. He tired of to live on bread crumbs. He get very angry when he drink too much, and talk about what he could have had if Mr. Cadence not testify against him. He think some of it rightful his. Talk about getting money, she come up again, and this time he act more serious. First I think he only want to do hurt, but now maybe that not enough.”

“It would be worth it just to get rid of him, but I’d be fooling myself if I thought that would be the end of it. You give a man like that a hundred dollars, and he comes back wanting three then five and on and on and on.”

Adam gave his head a blasé jerk. “I’ve found that a good scare with his life as the stakes usually works better than mere talk. Threats carry more weight than words, unless you combine the two. But you really havta sell it, and make him believe it or you’re just wasting your time.”

“I make him believe. I make him believe good.”

Adam’s face hardened, and his eyes turned cold and remorseless. “Let him see a little of his own blood, and he’ll believe. He’ll have no choice.”

Charles’ eyes narrowed. “We don’t want to kill him.”

Adam’s expression turned devious. “He doesn’t havta know that. And it’s surprising how little blood it takes.”

“Yes, sir, I like your way to think.”

The man’s shoes clipped against the floor as he came from the shadows, and for the first time, Adam saw his face.

“You tell us what you have in mind.”

*******

It was close to supper when Adam and Charles got back to the house. It had been another long work day, but this one seemed longer than most. Adam had just pushed the door shut when Angelica and Lucinda drifted down the staircase like clouds in the rustle of their dresses. And one of the first things the men noticed was how the ladies’ eyes went direct to the box under Charles’ arm.

Lucinda came down before her sister. “I trust that your day wasn’t too eventful.”

“Nothing more than the usual humdrum paper work, bills of lading and such and dealing with the foibles of running any import/export business.”

Her soft gray eyes made a subtle flick to her husband’s parcel. “It appears that you did a little more than that.”

“Oh, this. It’s just something I bought for our child, but I guess it’s as much for you.” He handed it to her.

The women’s eyes dazzled like children’s on Christmas morning.

“I trust that you didn’t get underfoot too terribly much.” Angelica glanced in her sister’s direction.

“Angel, you know that I’m never underfoot.”

It would have been hard not to see that she didn’t want to laugh out loud. “Of course.”

Lucinda moved her hands to get a better hold on the box. “Now if you will please excuse us, we’ll take this upstairs. Supper won’t be long, but there’s plenty of time for the both of you to freshen up.”

With a polite bow of their heads the women started back up, their voices carried in discreet chatter. As they reached the top landing, their sedate pace quickened, and they soon disappeared into one of the bedrooms.

Adam tossed his hat on the entry table, and began to unbutton his coat. “Our wives are up to something.”

“It’s good to know that I wasn’t the only one to get that impression.”

Adam’s dubious eyes trailed upward. “And it scares me.”

Lucinda deposited the box on the big four-posted bed she hared with her husband. Always the soul of decorum and tact, it was all she could do not to just rip into it. Anticipation prickled over her skin, and her fingers trembled so that she had trouble in undoing the bow.

“I can do that. “

“No, I want to.”

“I wonder what it could be.”

“With my Charles, it could be anyone’s guess.”

After a couple more frustrated attempts, Lucinda at last got it undone. Next, off came the lid, and then the delicate paper parted.

Angelica’s hands went to her mouth. Lucinda’s eyes flooded as she looked down on the sweetest thing. She slipped tender hands under its arms and lifted it from the box. Its legs dangled free, its ears flopped forward, and those pink button eyes seemed to speak to her.

As long as Lucinda had known the man to whom she found herself married, he never failed to surprise and delight her with these small acts of affection. There were times when she made herself wonder – in reflection – why he stayed with her. But then he would do something like this, and she knew why without explanation. He loved her, no matter what she said and did and that was, maybe, his greatest strength, that he could love so deep and so pure in spite of her barbs. She hugged the wonderful creature of someone’s imagination close, and hid her face against its soft wool body. It wasn’t like Angelica hadn’t seen her cry before, but this was between her and Charles.

*******

The lean, jet-haired man nursed his drink at the bar of one of the dives on the docks. It wasn’t a place where one would ever take his family – not that he had a family to take – and the whiskey was so watered down that becoming inebriated took some extra effort. But that wasn’t why he had come. He took a good swallow as he snuck a glance at the round-shouldered gent at the back table in the corner. He grasped the bottle by the neck with his other swarthy hand and held onto his shot glass, then pushed away from the bar with a grunt.

“Maybe you like some company.”

Oran Bushnell looked up with bloodshot eyes. “Oh, it’s you.” His speech was slurred. “I don’t see why not. A man can always use someone to get drunk with.”

“Sure, and I bring fresh bottle.” He used his foot to pull the chair out from the rickety table. “You look lost tonight, my friend. Maybe you make too much trouble for yourself. This revenge, she dirty business, and sometimes catch wrong one.”

Bushnell gave a derisive snort and filled his glass with the dregs of his own bottle. “It’s not me that’s got the trouble.” He jolted it down. “They think they’re so clever.” He tapped an ear with a finger, and winked at his companion. “But I keep my ears open, and I listen.” He put one hand into a coat pocket, and gave it a jingle. “And this buys friends who always have information. I have one fella who gives me a lot, and the good kind, the kind I can use. Like this morning, he told me that they’re talking about trying to buy me off.” He slugged down another drink so fast that it ran from both sides of his mouth. “And I’m gonna string ‘em along, and let ‘em think I’ll consider it…,” he chortled, “for a little while anyway, and then…,” he slammed the flat of his hand against the table, but in here no one even bothered to look, “I’ll slam the lid shut, and I’ll have ‘em.”

“I don’t know. I hear these real smart people.”

“Only as smart as I let ‘em think they are.”

“Ah.” The dark man poured them each a round. “But this fella you tell me about, maybe he not so good, so I think how about I check him out, just to make sure.”

Bushnell started to get weepy. “Nobody’s ever cared that much for me.” His face grew uglier. “Not even my own dear, loving brother.”

“Brothers not always so close as friends, and we are friends.”

“Yeah, yeah we are. Okay, I don’t know his real name,” he sniggered, “and I don’t think he does either, but he goes by Ferret. I think you’re just wasting your time, though. He hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”

“We see, but I always say it better to be safe than it is to be sorry.” His chair scraped across the floor as he pushed it back. “Now I think you have enough, it time for you to go home.”

Bushnell made a gurgling sound in his throat as the man helped him up. “Some home. A dingy room in a seedy joke of a hotel for three dollars a week, and if not for that lousy job I wouldn’t even have that.” His hat was jammed on his head for him. “Why I used to sleep on satin sheets, and dine on caviar and pâte de foie gras, and wash it all down with French wine,” he staggered but was held up, “before they caught me. And if it hadn’t been for Hiram Cadence I don’t think they woulda ever caught me.” He cursed. “I owe him for a lot.”

Out into the night they went. In the distance the slap of the water against the pier could have lulled a man into complacency, if he had let it. From day the activity had changed its pitch from most work to more pleasure. They headed away from the tavern as Bushnell kept up his drunken prattle. And nobody noticed just two more denizens of a night on the docks.

EIGHT

The crystal chandelier – ablaze with light – in the entryway of the Harper house glittered like wet diamonds. Prisms that hung from it like frozen water, cast rainbows over the walls to add a magical touch. But right now, Adam didn’t feel so magical. He paced at the foot of the expansive staircase, while Charles watched from a safe distance.

Adam glanced toward the second floor. “It isn’t like me to get this jumpy before going into one of these affairs.” He stopped. “But Angelica is up to something, and it makes my palms sweat just thinking about what it might be. She can be a devious little thing, and right now she’s all worked up about this man Bushnell and Latonia Goodhue, and, quite frankly, it unnerves me to no end.” His eyebrows rose in helpless frustration. “I do wish you’d reconsider, and you and Lucinda come with us.”

“I’m afraid you’re on your own. We’ve gone to them for years, but Lucinda wants to sit this one out. She says she just wants to stay here and help Maggie with the babies. I know that’s true, but I think it’s just a convenient excuse to avoid all the stares and whispers. Normally she’d go because of it and beard those lions in their den, but I think her being in the maternal way has something to do with it. Of course, the rest of the family has decided to bow out as well.”

“And you, being the ever dutiful husband, said you’d stay home, too.” Adam smoothed back his crisp hair. “I’d do the same in your position – it’s just that I can’t help but feel like I’ve been put out as bait for a pack of hungry wolves. There’s gonna be a bloodbath tonight.” His gaze went upstairs again. “I can almost hear Angelica sharpening her knives.”

Charles stepped out of the doorway. “You know how long women take, so maybe we have time for a glass of bourbon before you head into battle.”

“Several, I think.”

“Gentlemen, attend.”

The men looked up at the sound of Lucinda’s voice. She stood on the top landing, and the cast of her eyes was enough to confirm Adam’s suspicions. In a swish of motion Angelica appeared next to her.

Adam’s jaw dropped. He had never seen anything so exquisite in his entire life. She floated down the stairs ahead of Lucinda like something out of a dream in a scarlet satin gown. The skirt and bodice had black lace flounces adorned with myriad small black velvet ribbons. A cameo brooch pinned to the fabric at the juncture of the cleavage of her ample bosom drew attention to it. The light shone off her pristine white shoulders and glistened against the pearl and onyx fobs that dangled from her dainty earlobes. Her dark brown hair had been pulled back into a black snood decorated with more black velvet ribbons and red artificial roses. On her hands were black lace fingerless gloves that complimented the black lace fan she held. Adam gulped as she stopped before him.

A pique of ire registered in Angelica’s face. “Say something.”

“You’re breathtaking. You’ll definitely be the belle of the ball.”

“That’s the intention.”

He frowned as his admiring eyes covered her. “But I can’t say that I’ve ever seen that dress before.”

Charles’ fists rested on his hips. “I have.”

Lucinda came to stand beside her. “It’s mine, though I can’t say why I ever had it made. I’ve never worn it, but I thought it would work splendidly for tonight.”

Angelica’s hands ran over her narrow waist. “She had her seamstress come in and alter it to fit me. And since we’re close to the same size, it didn’t take much of an alteration to make it fit.”

No one noticed that Charles had disappeared until he returned with Adam’s coat, and a woman’s ebony hooded cloak with mink trim. Lucinda took the lady’s garment from him and draped over her sister.

Lucinda arranged the hood over her sister’s head so as no to discombobulate the hairstyle they had done such diligent work on. “This goes with it, and after tonight you can have them both.”

Charles took his watch from his waistcoat and snapped it open. “If you don’t leave now you’ll miss the opening, unless you plan on being fashionably late and making a grand entrance.”

Angelica snuggled the cloak around her. “That’s exactly what we want.”

Adam looked at her with a wry grimace. “I kinda figured that.”

With that, Adam put on his black dress hat and coat, and buttoned up. Charles opened the door and the handsome couple went out to where a shiny cabriolet hitched to a pair of raven black horses awaited them. Turner, wearing a high top hat and white gloves, held the carriage door open for them then, once they were in, took his place on the driver’s seat.

Charles’ arm went around his wife’s waist, and her head leaned on his shoulder as they watched the carriage head along the drive.

“I almost wish I had gone.”

Charles looked at her. “It’s not too late.”

“No, this is Angelica’s and Adam’s night. And besides that, I don’t want to be too harsh on dear Latonia.”

Charles’ felt a distinct chill that ran to the marrow. Oh, poor Latonia, she had no idea.

*******

The clop of the horses’ hooves over the cobbled street only added to the romance of the night. If it had not been for the main reason of her attendance of the ball, this would have been the perfect evening. Angelica’s eyes went to the incredible being that sat beside her, and she reached out and grasped one of his hands.

“I hope you aren’t sorry you let me talk you into this.”

He gave her one of those smiles always guaranteed to make a portion of her melt. “After seeing the way you look tonight, I couldn’t possibly be sorry about anything. And from what I have heard about Latonia Goodhue, I kinda relish the idea of her getting her just desserts. Anyone who would spread such unfounded lies about as fine a person as your mother is, I personally think should be horsewhipped, but then that’s just my opinion.”

“You knew all along. You knew all along that’s why I wanted to go to this gala. After a time I would think I would stop trying to get away with anything with you.”

He squeezed her hand. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. At any rate, though, I don’t mind if you keep it up since it does add a certain amount of adventure to my life.”

“Tell me honestly that you don’t mind my little ploys.”

“If I minded I would never go along with any of them, and I wouldn’t be here now.” He pressed her fingers to his lips. “You must understand, my dear girl, that a man so deeply in love can put up with a lot.” He leaned closer to her, and his mouth brushed hers. “And these little machinations of yours are only a small part of what makes me adore you so much.”

She started to say something, but his kiss smothered it, and pushed it, whatever it had been, from her head. Her eyelids dropped, and she could feel his strong, passionate hands on either side of her neck. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, and the blood rushed in her veins like molten metal. Then his arms went around her, and she thought he would crush her to death.

She had been wrong before. This was a perfect evening.

*******

Charles had just started up the stairs when someone knocked at the front door, and from the insistence of it, urgency was a foregone conclusion.

Charles turned. “Oh, now what?” Then he hurried back down lest Lucinda, and the children be disturbed.

When he jerked the door open, Lester Tillman stood before him like a ruffled three-hundred pound rooster; a leather folder tucked under one arm.

“Lester, what on Earth.”

“I’m sorry to come calling this late, Charles, but it is something of the utmost importance that I felt couldn’t wait.”

“Then, by-all-means do come in.”

Lester entered as he removed his hat. He smoothed back his disheveled graying dark hair. “I really am most sorry about this.”

“Oh, do stop apologizing all over yourself, Lester.” Charles closed the door. “I know how these things have a tendency to crop up every now and again. Now suppose you tell me what this is all about.”

Lester’s cobalt eyes shot toward the upstairs from where one could hear the soft lilt of women’s and baby’s voices.

“I think a room with a door where we could talk in private would be better for this.”

Charles frowned. “All right, we’ll take it into my study.”

Once in the cloistered silence of the oak paneled room, Lester seemed to relax, but only by a small margin.

Charles lit the lamp on his desk. “Maybe you’d like a brandy.”

“No thank you, there isn’t time. I need to get back to my office.”

Charles watched as the big man unfastened the folder and took out a small green leather bound book. He didn’t need to say a thing as he took it. As he thumbed through it, his recognition of the fine script was immediate, and his eyes shot to the attorney’s full-bearded face.

“Yes, that’s Hiram Cadence’s handwriting. What you have in your hands is his diary. I received it in yesterday’s post and only got around to it this morning. It was sent by a law firm I am very familiar with and have even had the privilege of working with in New York City.”

“I suppose you’ve read it.”

“From front to back.” He gestured to it with a finger. “It all pertains to Oran Bushnell, and the embezzlement. The most interesting and important part is in the last twenty-three pages.”

Charles’ grip tightened on the book, and his eyes betrayed his apprehension.

“It’s what one would expect from Hiram, but I think you should read it for yourself.” Lester turned back toward the door. “I’ll keep you abreast of anything I find out.”

“Thank you, Lester, I do appreciate it. Now I’ll see you out.”

Lester closed the folder and stuck it back under his arm. “Don’t bother. I’ve been here often enough until I think I can find my way.”

Once the attorney had left, Charles sat down behind his desk and turned up the flame on the lamp. He had thought to read only the last twenty-three pages, but decided against it. He didn’t want to run the risk of missing anything that could prove imperative to the situation.

October 15, 1852

I don’t know what made me decide to keep this journal for anything except future reference, and maybe evidence or insurance, and I don’t like to think against what. And maybe it is from fear, a little anyway. I have uncovered something by sheer accident, and I could wish I hadn’t, but I did, and I will follow it to its conclusion, whatever that may be, and to wherever it takes me. It is too early yet to take this to Hugh Pendleton. When I do I want it to be backed with facts and not merely conjecture. I want to be absolutely sure. The character of someone is at stake.

NINE

Once a year – no matter if the weather was seasonable or not – the city of Bangor held a party to celebrate the first day of spring. Each March saw it held at a mansion of one of the prominent families, and this time would be no exception. The Winthrop estate was considered one of the finest in the city, maybe all of Maine, and many believed that this would be the ball of all balls. What they didn’t know.

Once they got inside and were ushered into the immense ballroom, Adam became aware of the full scope of his wife’s and sister-in-law’s scheme. He was no longer the staked out chicken. He felt like he was on a spit being rotated over a slow fire.

The dancing stopped, and the music trickled down to a single instrument until the tune ceased altogether. Every eye turned to Adam and Angelica Cartwright, and the dropping of a pin would have reverberated through the silence like the felling of a Ponderosa pine.

Adam allowed his eyes to flick to his attire. Not only did he feel as if he were about to be barbequed, he felt like the proverbial bull in red silk pants. Every man there wore light to medium grays and browns, certainly nothing so heavy as black. The women wore white more than anything, and the gowns that weren’t were in the softest pastels.

He leaned closer to Angelica and spoke into her ear. “This one may be unforgivable.”

She answered him and moved her mouth as little as possible, and never let her eyes stray from the crowd or her smile to diminish. “Maybe, but this is worth it.”

Angelica held out a prim hand, and Adam took it and led her onto the dance floor. The other couples stepped back to surround them, reminiscent of the circling of wagons. A brisk waltz eradicated the stillness as the musicians got an unobtrusive signal from across the room.

Angelica’s fan, which hung from her arm by a black velvet ribbon loop, swayed with the motion as she swirled over the inlaid marble floor. She allowed the occasional glance from the face of her Adam, to catch the expressions on those around them. She felt almost evil, but only almost.

“She has her nerve coming here, and in red and black, of all colors,” one feminine voice intoned.

“Yes, Mrs. Reed, but would you just look at that man she’s with,” another answered. “I don’t know why I can never find someone like that.”

“Because they see you coming first, my dear Rosalie,” a third said, and giggled.

“That isn’t the slightest bit funny, Bettina Rice.”

With the gradualness of a spring thaw, couples joined the Cartwrights. Many of the looks they continued to garner were indignant, but many others were of admiration and some with no small hint of envy, male and female.

With a coquettish toss of her head, Angelica let loose with a peal of laughter, as though someone had said the funniest thing in the world to her. Adam gave her a wide swing, and came close to colliding with another couple. Since he found himself inextricably caught up in this, he might as well go down in a blaze of glory.

After the waltz finished they enjoyed two more dances. Afterward, Adam, ever the gallant gentleman, escorted her onto the enclosed solarium. The fan fluttered before Angelica’s face like the wings of a moth, and she gave her head a flippant shake.

“My, but that got warm.”

“Maybe you would like some punch.”

“I would love some punch.”

“This won’t take long.”

She watched after him as he disappeared into the throng then turned to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Moonlight cast over the marble statuary in the expansive garden, and the passage of the clouds seemed to bring them to life. The skiff of snow on the ground looked more of a pale, ethereal gray than white and turned the whole thing into a surreal landscape.

“Angelica, dear.”

Angelica spun with a flourish at the all too familiar voice. Her smile dripped honey, and the fan worked faster. “Latonia Goodhue. I looked for you when we first came in. I wondered if you would come.”

“You know that I have never missed one of these. And I hear that this will be the one to attend.” The angular, silver-haired woman came closer followed by her retinue of three young women. “I think you are already acquainted with Bettina Rice, Rosalie Garret and Bethany Parks.”

“Why of course I am.” Angelica gave them a courteous nod, and the fan continued to flutter before her face. “From three of Bangor’s most prominent families.”

“That is an absolutely divine gown, but the color.” Latonia clicked her teeth. “Not exactly proper for the Spring Gala Ball.”

“Yes, I know, but my only other choice was dark emerald.”

Latonia’s lupine gaze continued over the dress. “Well, at least green would have been in keeping with the vernal theme. I hear that you’re married to a common cowboy, and have moved out to the barbaric west. Nevahda, I believe it is. I don’t see how you can endure the isolation. I think I should go mad.”

“I endure just fine, in fact, I wouldn’t be happy anywhere else, and we prefer it be pronounced Nevada.”

“I’ll try to remember that in future.”

Angelica eased closer to the woman as she moved in for the kill. “And I indeed did marry a cowboy, but there’s nothing common about him. He comes from wealth, and his father is one of the most powerful men in the state. Why once he was even approached to run for the senate. He and his sons have vast holdings in cattle, timber, shipping, silver and they own the only a grist mill in the area. I am surprised that you have never heard of them before this as they are considered to be one of the first families of Nevada.”

Angelica thought she caught a hint of pale creep into Latonia’s already alabaster coloring, and it made her salivate.

As if on cue, Adam appeared with two crystal cups of light pink punch. The light highlighted his hair and cast flattering shadows over the fine chiseled features of his face, and the black suit heightened every nuance of his perfect body. Her dark Adonis – as she liked to think of him – could not have shone up at a better time. It looked as if Rosalie would swoon and the other two only stared at him, and it gave Angelica the greatest satisfaction.

Angelica proceeded to introduce him, and she put emphasis on every word.

“Ladies, it’s my pleasure.” He gave them a chivalrous dip of his head as he handed over the cups to his wife. “If you would like, I could bring you some punch.”

Angelica could see the girls would love for him to get them some, but Latonia cut them off.

“No, thank you, Mr. Cartwright, I have only just arrived, and I really must mingle. I wouldn’t want my other friends to think that I am letting Angelica monopolize my time.” She held her hand out to him. “It has been a great pleasure, sir.”

He took her hand. “Le plaisir est tout l’a moi, Madame Goodhue.” He kissed the back of it.

He then moved to the girls and kissed their hands, and the other two had to hold Rosalie up.

Latonia beat a hasty retreat – anyway Angelica liked to think she had tucked her tail between her legs and run. She handed one of the cups back to Adam. “You were magnificent.” She took a dainty sip. “And I loved your final thrust. The French was perfect, but you could have said something else. That the pleasure is all yours is a bit thick.”

“I could’ve said you’d better get out of here while you still have your hair, which translates nicely into French.” He took a good swig, and his face registered distaste. “Ladies punch. I need something stronger than this to get me through this night.”

“Oh, no you don’t. I can just imagine what the wagging tongues would do with my husband getting drunk.” She tapped his cup with her folded fan. “This will do just fine.”

As they stood there bright strains of music in lively duple time reached them. He glanced around past the doorway.

He took her cup and placed them both on a small pier table, and extended his hand out to her. “I have always enjoyed the quadrille, and I think a French dance could not have come at a better time.”

Angelica bent low in her best curtsy. “I quite agree, sir.” Then she placed her hand on his and, he led her back into the ballroom.

*******

Charles rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He laid the journal open upside down on the desk blotter and leaned back in his chair. He had been reading like a fiend, so he had gotten about half way through. His arms stretched out to the sides then he brought his hands up and smoothed back his sandy blond hair.

What a hornet’s nest Oran Bushnell had stirred up, and the seeds had been planted fifteen years ago. His eyes came to rest on the book. He had always known Hiram Cadence to be a man of integrity with high moral standards, but until now he hadn’t really known the price that his father-in-law had paid for those beliefs. To turn in his...

A knock at the door interrupted his train of thought, and his heart thumped into his mouth.

“Charles.”

Lucinda mustn’t find out about this. With one fluid movement, he jerked the top desk drawer open and swiped the journal into it. He had just pushed it shut when the door opened, and Lucinda poked her head inside.

“You have been in here for hours. I hope you haven’t forgotten that you were going to come up and say goodnight to the babies.”

“I’m afraid I did forget. I got busy at some work, and I just lost track of the time.”

Lucinda came into the room and crossed to the desk. “I thought I heard Lester Tillman’s voice a while ago, but I forgot all about it when we gave the babies their baths.” She studied him from the sides of her eyes. “Charles, I did hear Lester’s voice, I know I did.”

“Yes, he was here, but it isn’t anything for you to worry about. You know how angry he gets about Bushnell, and he just needed to talk it out. He’s all for taking the man to court.” He snickered. “He would just love to get Mr. Bushnell on the stand and hack him to pieces. But once he had calmed down, he agreed with me that it would only be playing into the man’s hands. I offered him a brandy, but he said he couldn’t stay too long since he had some things that he needed to attend to.”

She scrutinized him for a long second. “I don’t know if I should believe you or not.”

“Of course you can.” He sprung from the chair and joined her. “Now since I did promise to say goodnight, I had better.” His arm went around her, and they started for the door. “One mustn’t keep children waiting.”

Her expression said that she still wasn’t ready to believe him as he ushered her out into the corridor.

As he pulled the door together, his eyes flicked to the desk. He would be so glad when this whole unpleasant affair was concluded. He didn’t think his heart could stand anymore close calls like that one.

TEN

Adam and Angelica went to stand off by the dais where the musicians were as they stopped playing. Usually there was a period of minutes between sets to give the dancers a chance to catch their breath before they went into the next one.

“Your plan is working beautifully. My hat’s off to a skillful master.”

She glanced at him, but in a manner so that he wouldn’t see her. “I am sure that I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.”

“Oh, yes, you do. Your little gossip machine is working just as one would intend one to work. You’ve been flitting about all night like a dragonfly, talking to anybody who’d listen.”

“It would be rude not to socialize.”

“Uh-huh. Well more than once I’ve heard them conversing about the bugs I know that you have so adroitly planted in their ears.”

“And pray tell me what kind of bugs.”

“Oh, small insignificant things like the family birthmark of the Cadence men, Hiram’s premature birth, reminders of how Bushnell threatened your father when he was convicted, you know, the kind of things people usually talk about at these soirees.”

With a snap, the fan came open, and the breeze it produced moved the tendrils of her hair. “It is so hot in here. Adam, be a love and get me a punch.”

He frowned. “I would hope those things don’t have too much alcohol in them, or you won’t be the one who winds up getting embarrassed.”

“Adam, please.” The fan moved faster. “It’s sweltering in here.”

His frown deepened, as did the corners of his mouth. “All right, I’ll be right back.”

After he had gone, she turned to the doorway, one of several, that led to the solarium. She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there when a most disagreeable voice assaulted her from behind.

“Well, well, well, looks who’s without her protector.”

Angelica whirled and recoiled at the smell of something stronger than punch.

The unkempt man looked toward the dais as the music started up again. “I think you owe me a dance.”

“I think not.”

“Sure you do.”

She shook her head and started to turn away, but vise-like fingers seized her arm and jerked her around.

“I said you owe me a dance, or maybe you think you’re too good.”

“Let go of me.” Angelica began to pry at his hand. “That hurts, please let go.”

“Well if you won’t dance with me, at least give me a kiss.” He grabbed her other arm and pulled her to him. “Just one isn’t going to hurt you.”

“It could get your nose broken.”

Angelica’s eyes ran past him to the black figure that loomed up behind him.

The man removed one hand just long enough to give Adam a shove. “Oh, go away, I found ‘er first. And anyway, I don’t know what she is to you.”

“My wife.”

With that, Adam gave him a jerk backwards, which caused him to release Angelica in an effort to keep to his feet. If he had thought to lash out, the notion was stillborn as Adam flattened him with a clout to the jaw. He slid over the floor to come to a stop at the feet of three well dressed gentlemen.

On a collective gasp, the music halted, and people stood in small clusters and pairs. Eyed darted from the one who would accost married women to the one who had defended his wife’s honor.

The victim started to get up to retaliate when a man in a taupe swallow tail coat and cream trousers, stooped beside him and held him back. “Be smart for once, Quant, and stay put. He’s a westerner, and you know how they are, especially when it comes to their women.”

Adam turned to Angelica and gathered her arm into his. “Let’s go home.”

As they started out the buzz of voices began behind them. Adam held onto Angelica in a most protective fashion, and she could feel his muscles tense. Now and again she would pick up a word or phrase, many of them unkind. She looked at Adam and could see the knot in his jaw. Her grip tightened. Right now she found herself married to a tight coiled spring, and if someone should say one thing too many, she didn’t know if she would be able to hold him back, or even if she would try.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Angelica Cadence, and your thief of a father.”

Adam’s feet stopped as if bolted to the floor. Angelica knew she should stop him, but she didn’t want to.

Adam turned, and his fiery eyes raked the crowd like gunfire, then his voice came cool and seething. “It’s Angelica Cartwright, I’m proud to say. And if anybody should be ashamed, it’s all of you. I suggest you don’t look too closely at the reflection that looks back at you from the mirror. You might not like what you see. I don’t. Come on, Angelica; let’s get outta this den of rattle snakes.”

Then he led her out, and she didn’t think she had ever been so proud.

*******

The weasely little man found himself slammed into the wall so hard that the window above him rattled. His heart ran like a steam locomotive, and he tried to swallow down the fist-sized lump in his throat. He couldn’t make out any of the faces of those gathered around him in the darkness, but it didn’t take a bright man to realize that he was in deep trouble.

“Hey, Ferret, it been few days since I last see you. I think maybe you try to keep away from me.”

Ferret’s gaze zeroed in on the figure that parted its way through the others. He didn’t need to see his face, either, to know the trouble had just gotten deeper. “Oh, nnno, Jul, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that…” His eyes darted to each one of them to stop on the one called Jul. “It’s just that I’ve been busy.”

“Yes, so I hear. You dig up things for man called Bushnell for which he give you money.”

“Sure, Jul, sure. It isn’t really a whole lot, but it does help me get by.”

Ferret looked down at the arm that went around his shoulders.

“And that why I been to look for to find you. I need for you to do me big favor.”

“Sure, Jul, anything you want, Jul. You just name it.”

“You dry up. You give no more information to this man Bushnell.”

“Ah, Jul, don’t ask me to do that. You know how hard up I am, and how bad I need the money.”

“Maybe you’re tired of your life,” a gravely voice said, followed by the click of a knife.

“Now that no way to talk to our friend Ferret. I am sure he want to do everything he can to help.” Jul leaned down closer and lowered his voice. “You do this for me, Ferret, and I make sure that you have more money than you ever see at one time in your life.”

“I don’t suppose you’d happen to know how much.”

Jul slapped a good-natured hand flat against the little man’s chest. “Just take my word that it be enough to make you comfortable. You eat good, you drink good, you even start new life if you want to.”

Ferret’s brain began to spin inside his skull. “A new life. That wouldn’t be so bad. But only if you think I should.”

“Sure, you have good time with all that money. Now I think maybe it a good idea if you leave the city for a while. I let you know when to come back.”

“All right, Jul, if you really want me to.”

“Of course, I do.” Jul’s voice lowered again. “You see, this man Bushnell is a bad man, he hurt a good family, family of a friend of Jul’s, and you been helping him.”

The breath whistled as it rushed in through Ferret’s teeth. “Honest, Jul, I didn’t know that. You know I’d never…”

“I know, I know, but now you know, and you can do right thing and get money at same time. That sound like a good thing to me.”

Ferret looked at those around him, though he still couldn’t make out any faces, not that he needed to. He gulped. Maybe his wasn’t much of a life, but it was the only one he had. “All right, Jul, whatever you say.”

“Fine, Ferret, fine. Two of my men, they will go with you to make sure you not get into more trouble. Now you just go with them, and everything be all right.”

Jul and a hulk of a silhouette parted from the others.

“I could take care of him real easy,” the gravely voice said, and the knife clicked again. “He’d disappear. Just another one slipped through the cracks.”

“No, Ferret harmless little mouse and maybe we have use for him someday. Mr. Harper always do right by us, and he ask for no killing. So no killing there will be. Just take him from the city, make sure he is safe then come back.” Jul’s chortle had an edge of ice to it. “We have more important fish to hook.”

“Whatever you say, Jul.”

*******

Adam had just taken Angelica’s cloak when Charles greeted them at the foot of the stairs.

“You’re home early. We didn’t expect you for another hour yet.”

“We decided that we just wanted to come back to the house.”

The men’s eyes met and, as he had feared from the onset, Charles knew there had been trouble, but an explanation would have to come later.

Angelica pushed back an errant strand of hair. “I hope the children gave you no problem.”

“Nothing more than you get when you combine babies and bathwater. But you’ll never hear Lucinda complain. She won’t admit it, but I think she had as much fun as they did.”

“You go on up while I put these away, and I’ll join you in a little bit.”

“All right. Goodnight, Charles.”

“Goodnight, Angelica.”

They watched as she went upstairs and then left their sight, and said nothing until they heard a door open and close then silence.

“Adam, I need to talk to you. A new development came up while you were gone. I’ll explain further when we get into my study.”

“Just lead the way.”

When Adam entered the study he found a book pressed into his hand, opened to midway through. He draped the outer garments over the back of a chair. He looked at Charles, and his eyes questioned.

“It can explain better than I can.”

Adam’s eyes dropped, and he began to read.

May 2, 1853

Today I found the proof of what I was looking for. It wasn’t what I had wanted to find, in fact, I wish it could have been different. That funds were being embezzled had long ago ceased to surprise me. What shocked me so was who it all led me to. I desire with all my heart that I could be wrong, but I fear that I am not. And come to think about it, by his lifestyle, and with no visible means of supporting it, I should have figured it out long before this. Maybe I simply didn’t want to.

ELEVEN

Adam and Charles sat at the desk in the latter’s office each reading a morning newspaper, a cup of coffee between them. Charles had sent Nile Fellowship out with enough money to buy a copy of every one published in the city.

Charles took a sip then sat his cup on its saucer with a clink. “So, tell me what it’s like to be a western ruffian.”

“Oh, a little better than a rustic barbarian.” Adam eyes skimmed the line of print before him. “Wait a minute; this one does give me credit for not shooting him.”

“That’s not so bad. According to the Herald, you’re a combination brigand, miscreant and an uncouth lout.” Charles’ eyebrows rose. “At least I think it was the Herald, it might’ve been the Ledger.”

Adam shook his head. “I’m reading the Ledger. No mention of a lout anywhere.”

Things grew quiet again as they concentrated on their reading.

“Bravo.”

Adam’s head rose with a quizzical look.

Charles chuckled. “It’s well past time someone told them to their faces what they really are. ‘… this den of rattlesnakes.’ I’m only sorry I wasn’t there to watch the carnage.”

Adam winced as he folded his paper and laid it aside. “My father has always accused me of having a sharp tongue.”

“Well, you couldn’t have chosen a better time to wield it, my friend. They have long deserved every venomous word, especially Latonia Goodhue.” Someone knocked at the door. “Come in.”

Nile came in with a folded piece of paper in his hand. “The same lad from the other day just came in with this.” He crossed to the desk and handed it to his employer.

Charles read it then handed it over to Adam. Evrything sat up for to night. Plase we agrree on.

“All right, Nile.” Charles took the note and scribbled a hasty message on the back of it, then returned it to the young man. “And give the boy a dollar for his services.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Harper.”

Once Nile had gone, Charles leaned back in his chair with his cup. “Now we wait.”

Adam frowned on a sigh. “The hard part.”

They just sat and worked on their coffee. Tonight the most hazardous part of this whole thing would get underway, and it would only take one misstep to blow it all sky high. It wasn’t Adam’s or Charles’ intention that anyone should be hurt too bad or, Heaven forbid, killed, but the kind of men they were working with left the door open to all kinds of eventualities. They would just have to wait until they got where they were going, and take it from there.

*******

The man staggered along a darkened back street. It had been another long evening at the Barnacle Tavern, and the jingle of fresh coin in his pockets had spurred him on. The installation of street lamps cost money, so none had been put back here, either from lack of funds or, more like as not, lack of priority. In the past week or so since the full moon the light had diminished on its way to the new moon, when it would be black as the inside of a man’s hat. Though close to the buildings one could always stay out of its probing light, and that suited him just fine.

His shoulder scuffed hard against the corner of an edifice as he rounded a turn, and had he not been so intoxicated it might have hurt. In his current state, though, he ignored it and tottered on his way. He muttered, unintelligible even to someone right at his side, and one could detect anger more by its tone than its content. He paid no attention to the dark recess of a doorway just ahead of him.

Strong hands jerked him back and one capped over his mouth. He struggled with all he had in him, but there were too many to overcome. Even if he hadn’t been drunk, there would have been too many. He kicked out, and as he did his ankles were seized. He twisted his head from side-to-side in an attempt to free his mouth so that he could call out for help, but it was as futile as all the other attempts. He thought he heard the squeak of door hinges, and caught a quick smell of rust. Then there came a slam, and the sounds of night were closed out. The hand that covered his mouth came away, but before he could scream he was gagged with something that tasted like old sweat. But still he fought. It wasn’t time yet, and he wasn’t about to give up without the best fight he could muster.

Myriad twinkling white lights filled the blackened void as a sharp blow came down on the back of his head. His resistance ceased, and his body hung limp in the arms of his captors as that of a dead eel. He would give them no more trouble.

*******

When his senses began to reawaken, Oran Bushnell’s memories of the attack reasserted themselves, and drove his heart at breakneck speed. He had no idea where he had been deposited, only that they hadn’t killed him – the pain in his head told him that. He lay on something hard and cold and his arms had been tied fast behind his back to the point that he couldn’t feel his hands. Something had been bound around his ankles and just below his knees and about the best movement he could manage was to breathe. Even that, however, seemed stifled and hindered. After several hard blinks to clear his vision, he realized why. A burlap bag had been placed over his head, and the gag remained in his mouth. Tiny dots of dim light filtered through the fabric, as well as the scent of dirt.

His ears strained to hear, and he knew he caught the faint lap of water on wood. It didn’t take much sense – and he was surprised that he had any left after the way he had been brained – to reason that he was still on the docks. Whoever had him probably hadn’t taken him too far from where they had abducted him, but that was only a guess.

As he lay there, trussed up like a Christmas turkey, he became aware of sharp footfalls as they drew closer until they seemed on top of him. They stopped and the point of what he reasoned to be a knife pressed into his throat, and he felt a warm trickle, then a gravely voice said, “You make one peep and you won’t make a second. And don’t you look back. I’m real good with this pig sticker.”

Bushnell wanted to nod to reassure the man of his cooperation, but he feared that movement of any kind would only drive the knife’s blade deeper. Then after about a second, the sharpness left, and the bag was jerked from his head and wisped his hair into disarray. His eyelids batted against the glow of a lantern, and he pulled in fresh air through his nose as a starving man would take in food.

After he had satisfied his lungs as much as possible, he looked about and could make out the outline of packing crates, some stacked on one another, and barrels beyond the arc of the light. No doubt that he was in a warehouse, and this one hadn’t been abandoned.

He had to get away. He couldn’t just lay there and let them come and kill, maybe even torture him. If he could only work the ropes loose a little. But they had tied him too well. His elbows had been bent, and his wrists lashed to his forearms. There wasn’t one chance in a million of his getting that undone. Well, Oran, it looks like you’ve had it this time, old man, he thought.

His head thumped back against the floor, and his eyes latched onto the ceiling. Staring death square in the face could sober a man up faster than all the black coffee in the world, and had a more lasting effect. He wondered how long it would be before he found out what kind of unpleasantness they had in store for him. He figured just long enough for him to work up a good sweat.

He was wrong. He couldn’t have lain there more than two or three minutes when he heard more footfalls. This time it sounded like more than one. His head came up, and his eyes strained to see trough the darkness beyond the glow from the lantern.

As he watched, a slender man in a light colored coat and derby hat emerged from the darkness. At first Bushnell thought him to be alone until he saw that the powerful built man at his side was clad in black from head to foot. Even his hair was the same ominous color.

They stopped just at his feet, and watched him as a cat would a mouse right before it decided to pounce. The one with the sandy hair and mustache stooped and undid the gag then yanked it away and stood back up.

Bushnell spluttered and spat in an effort to rid himself of that rotten taste.

“I trust that’s better,” the one in the derby said.

“Yeah, like you care.” Bushnell spat again then set his gaze on the man, and recognition shone in his expression. “I know who you are. You’re Charles Harper; you’re married to Hiram’s oldest daughter Lucinda.”

Charles nodded. “That’s right.” He followed Bushnell’s line of sight to his companion. “You don’t need to know who this is, and you really don’t want to.”

“I already know. It’s Adam Cartwright, Angelica’s husband.”

Adam’s mouth drew into a pucker of mock approval. “Good, that should make it easier for you to believe that if you ever again cause any kind of trouble or heartache for this family, I will find you, and you will learn what unpleasant really is.”

“You don’t scare me. Remember that I’ve been in prison.”

Adam’s voice went down an octave. “I’d make prison look like a summer picnic.”

Charles leaned down and spoke into Bushnell’s ear. “If you were as smart as you obviously think you are, you would be scared. You see, in the part of the country he comes from, there are a whole different set of standards and rules. Sure many of the old ones everybody lives by apply as well, only with more force, and unpleasant takes on a whole, new, distasteful meaning.”

Bushnell’s eyes almost became too large for his face.

Adam crouched before the bound man, and his hands dangled over his knees. “Like being staked face down on an ant hill, peeled over a slow fire, having your limbs tied to four horses then each one ridden off at a full gallop in a different direction, or maybe…”

Bushnell gulped. “You wouldn’t do that. I know your kind.”

Adam leaned closer. “You don’t know anything about my kind, or you’d be scared spitless. I learned a lot from my close association with the Indians. They are very good teachers, and I was a very apt pupil.”

“All right, all right, I get your meaning.”

“Good, I don’t like to get nasty, it spoils my disposition.” Adam grasped the lapels of Bushnell’s coat and pulled him forward. “Of course, that doesn’t mean that I won’t when pushed. You know, men who’ve toyed with me in the past are no longer here to attest to their stupidity. I warned them just like I’m warning you, only they didn’t listen. So for once in your life, use what little bit of brains you possess, and catch the first train out of Bangor to whatever compass point it is headed, just so it isn’t west.”

Charles bent down and rested an arm on his brother-in-law’s shoulder. “But before you leave, you are going to make things right. You will admit that you lied about Hiram Cadence’s involvement in your embezzlement.”

Bushnell’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t lie. Hiram knew all about it.”

Charles’ expression grew menacing. “Yes, he knew about it, after the fact, and not because he was involved in any way. He confronted you about it when he discovered what you had done, and tried to get you to do the right thing.”

“You can’t know that. You weren’t there, and you can’t prove it.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t there, but you’re wrong about everything else.” Charles paused for effect. “I have Hiram’s journal, and it’s in a safe place where only two people can get at it.”

Bushnell went ashen than usual.

“After the trial he gave it to an attorney in New York against something like this. I guess he knew you better than you thought, and felt it was safer out of the city. So when this all started, the family’s lawyer received it in the mail, and he turned it over to me. Of course, after all that has gone on, there are those who would think that its appearance would be a little too convenient, but take my word that it does exist. And the law firm that has held it all these years is very prestigious and above reproach.”

“Maybe all that’s true, but you wouldn’t use it and stir this all up again.”

“You’re right – I wouldn’t when there are things that are more effective and permanent.”

Adam released him, and Bushnell flopped back against the floor.

A sharp clack brought an end to the conversation a lanky, jet-haired man with pockmarked cheeks and a long scar that ran from the outer corner of his right eye to his chin was greeted by Charles Harper beneath the lantern. Bushnell’s recognition was immediate, and the pace of his pulse increased as he recognized someone who claimed to be a friend, though he didn’t know the man’s name and had most times been too drunk to inquire. It was a stupid and deadly oversight on his part.

Adam could see the stark terror in Bushnell’s eyes as he stared at the newest entrant into this deadly game. He couldn’t resist one more good twist of the knife. “I think you’ve already met Mr. Canerras.” Adam gave him a slap on the arm then joined the others.

Bushnell’s heart thumped so hard that he thought for sure that it would fracture his ribs. Julio Canerras kept peace on the docks, and sometimes force became the best or only way to do that, and to protect his men. Better known as Ascot Jul, for his habit of slitting a man’s throat then pulling the victim’s tongue through it, he was not one to cross. It had become his signature at the end of many a strong message, one guaranteed to get the desired results. Though word had it that he had been brought in for questioning more than once, there was never any evidence against him. And it was said that some police officers were not averse to looking the other way. They saw it as the end result justifying the means.

“All you have to do is tell me when you want this man gone, and pfft,” Canerras said, and one hand floated toward the ceiling, “he be.”

Charles gave him a sharp whack between the shoulder blades. “Thanks, Julio. I think we can handle it from here. But you and your men stay close and keep a sharp watch until after he’s out of the city. Then, if he doesn’t do like he’s supposed to, I’ll leave it in your hands.”

Bushnell knew they were speaking just loud enough for him to hear. When people did that it had always had the opposite result from what they intended, at least as far as he was concerned. It didn’t frighten him for he knew they were going out of their way to do just that, which made him all the more determined to fight them. This time, however, was different. He had heard about Charles Harper’s relations with the seamier side of life, but it hadn’t altered his plans. Yet now to know that Harper was associated with Ascot Jul gave him pause. And then there was the advent of Adam Cartwright, and something about the man’s demeanor chilled Bushnell to the bone. He moved like a lithe panther and something behind those dark hazel eyes put a cold fright into a man without him even knowing for sure why.

Before Bushnell knew what was happening, from behind, someone forced a gag back into his mouth. The burlap bag came again over his head, and he knew they had lied to him. He knew he was about to be killed. Then Adam Cartwright’s icy voice spoke into his ear. “Do what you’ve been told and remember what was said here tonight, but not anybody you’ve seen and you might just live to a ripe old age. Mess up and Mr. Canerras will see that you get a new neck tie.”

Someone tugged at the back of his head, and Bushnell nodded with enthusiastic vigor. Then he felt himself being dragged away.

Charles stepped next to his brother-in-law and cuffed him against the arm. “You know, Adam, you should be on the stage. You even had me convinced.”

Adam reached inside his coat, and came out with a small pocket derringer. “Nobody said it was an act.”

“I like to think that you hadn’t planned on using that.”

“Only if Mr. Bushnell had made it necessary, or if that had been the only way to keep him alive, as you wanted.”

Charles held his hands up, palms out, in a defensive gesture. “I’m sure I don’t even want to know where you got it.”

Adam put the little gun back. “It is probably for the best.”

Charles slapped an arm around his shoulders. “Now that these nasty goings-on are out of the way, let’s go home. It’ll soon be midnight, and we have warm wives waiting for us.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

As they left the warehouse, Adam palmed off the small gun to Ascot Jul without anyone being the wiser. He had no further need for it. At least, he hoped he didn’t.

TWELVE

The door opened, and he felt himself tossed out by inconsiderate hands, as mocking laughter and jeers assailed his hearing. He landed with a sharp grunt and tumbled along from the momentum until he came to a stop in an unkempt heap on the bumpy ground. His breathing came ragged and fast, yet above it he could still hear the clatter of carriage wheels, and the thud of a horse’s hooves. He groaned as he rubbed at his stiffened arms and legs. At least they had had the courtesy to untie them before they discarded him goodness knew where.

He just laid there sucking in air through the burlap. As he had been instructed, the bag would remain on his head until they were gone. All he needed was a bullet in his head. No, they wouldn’t use a gun, too loud. He could just visualize the police finding his body, his throat cut and his tongue…. He shook his head to rid himself of the image, and it started the buzzing again. It wasn’t so much that he feared them; he could outwit a bunch of rowdies when he could see them coming at him. But he had a debt to collect on, and a dead man couldn’t very well do that. And anyway, a man should be allowed to die with some dignity.

The twitter of a bird overhead brought his attention back to the moment. He cocked his head to one side and listened. The carriage and horse were gone. Except for his avian companion, he appeared to be alone.

With all the resilience of a corpse rising from its coffin, he pushed himself up to sit. He listened again. His fingers fumbled with the bag then he pulled it from his head. Still dark, but not for long, he reasoned. In the darkness, even though it had lightened some toward dawn, he couldn’t make out where they had dropped him, in the literal sense of the word.

It must have taken him a good three minutes to undo the knot at the back of his head. He would have cussed out loud, had he been able. With a savage yank, he jerked the gag away – this one may have tasted fouler than the first – and flung it and the hood into the early morning gloom. He thought he would spit his mouth dry before he could rid himself of that wretched aftertaste.

He pulled himself onto his feet and stood. A muffled moan filled the silence as he stretched to his full length. If he didn’t shatter and break now he never would. There wasn’t an inch of him that didn’t scream out to be avenged.

There were a few trees scattered hither and yon, but not a building in any way, shape, or form did he see. Not even a water closet. No telling how many miles he had been driven from the city. He would just start walking along the road. He groaned at the idea. Maybe if he just sat down and waited, someone would happen by. Don’t be ridiculous, he thought.

He started to walk along the poor facsimile of a road, really nothing more than ruts cut by the continuous passage of many wheels over the years. Between the ruts had been pounded and tapped until no grass would grow by as many hooves. He stayed to the center since it made the going some smoother for his half dead legs.

He hadn’t gotten very far when he dropped onto his butt off to the side of the path. His arms crossed one over the other on top of his bent knees. This was futile. With a heavy breath, he let his head fall so that it rested – face down – on his arms. There were a few rough coughs, but it wasn’t as bad as it could sometimes be.

As he sat there some of his stiffness seemed to dissolve into a black mist that wrapped over him like a warm blanket. His breathing grew heavier, and it seemed to soothe the scratchiness of his throat.

“Hey, Mister…. Mister.”

Bushnell’s head jerked up from a half doze, and he had to fight not to swallow his Adam’s apple. He couldn’t believe his good fortune after the night he had had.

“You kinda look none the better for wear,” the reed thin man said, from his perch on the wagon seat.

“Ah, my horse spooked and threw me. He’s probably already back in the city by now. I don’t know how long I’ve been going, and I’m dog tired. I sure could use a ride.”

“Sure thing. Climb right on.”

Bushnell pried himself away from the ground. He had thought he had been exhausted before, but that was nothing compared to this. He felt like his every joint creaked as he went to the weathered wagon and – with some help from the driver – clambered up onto the seat.

“I sure do appreciate this.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. Just be glad I got a late start this morning or I might o’ missed you. Now you just settle back and we’ll probably be in Bangor in twenty or so minutes. I hope you’re in no great rush to get there.”

“I am, but it looks like it’ll just have to wait.”

The farmer chuckled. “It sure does, but I’ll hurry every chance I get.” With a click of his teeth, he gave the reins a snap, and the team started off at a walk.

Bushnell let his spine slacken as he crossed his arms over his chest. The farmer began to babble, but his words fell on unhearing ears. His passenger’s mind had much more important things to dwell on.

Bushnell glanced around at where he had just come from. He had made some mistakes in his life, but none compared to the one they had made. They had no idea who they were dealing with – if they had they would have killed him when they had the chance. Now the chance was his.

*******

Adam and Charles were just getting into their coats when Angelica came down the stairs, baby Elizabeth perked up in her arms.

Adam finished with his last button. “I suppose her brothers are still asleep.”

Angelica flashed a grin. “Just like little logs.”

“You know, it’s shameful.” Adam took his hat from the table and shook his head. “Those three hulks lay in bed like hibernating bears until you rouse them,” he brushed his fingertips over his daughter’s petite cheek, “and she’s always up at the crack of dawn.”

“It must be the Irish in ‘er,” Maggie said in her hearty Irish brogue, as she came down behind her mistress.

Charles wound his muffler around his neck and stuffed it into his coat collar. “I’m looking forward to discussions like this.” He put on his hat. “And it doesn’t matter what it’s about, just so that a baby’s at the center of it.”

Adam gave him a poke. “I wouldn’t be too hasty. Children, precious as they are, can get into some unpleasant things, and it doesn’t take long to find that out. Sometimes it’s enough to gray a parent’s hair.”

“We’ve always wanted a child, so I think we can take whatever comes along with having one.”

“All right, but don’t say you weren’t warned.”

The men went out into the brisk morning air. The sun – dim though it was – hadn’t let them down. Streaks of pink and blue shone in places through the as yet leafless branches of the trees. And though the cold made the close proximity of a fireplace or a stove desirable, it was a morning to be taken in large spoonfuls.

Charles glanced at several birds huddled on a branch. “I don’t envy them.”

Adam snorted and tugged his hat down in front. “You will if our wives ever find out what we were up to last night.”

Charles’ eyes shot to him. “I’d envy a man about to be hung.”

“You’d be a man about to get hung, we both would.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to make sure that they don’t find out.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

A crack filled the morning solitude, and chips splintered from a brick next to where Charles stood. Birds scattered from the trees. Adam had heard enough gunshots in his lifetime to know one now.

“Charles!” Adam grabbed his brother-in-law’s arm and jerked him – he hoped – out of someone’s sights. At the same time, he pushed the door open.

A second crack added to the bedlam. Adam felt the slug rip into his shoulder, and he dropped onto the portico like he had been clubbed. Charles grasped him under the arms and dragged him inside then kicked the door shut and threw the bolt. Behind him a baby wailed.

Bushnell sprang from some bushes near the head of the drive like a flushed stag, a smoking pistol clutched in his right hand. His quarry had eluded him, at least for the moment. He started toward the house, but the sounds of voices and running feet halted him in his tracks. His eyes darted around him, and he saw that people had begun to gather on the walkway and in the street. He knew that the police would join them at any time. But he still had a task to accomplish, and nothing to lose. With a spin, he ran back toward the house. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance that he could get in through the front door, and so he would try the back. The fact that he knew he had hit Cartwright urged him on and he only hoped that he had killed him. Then he ran off to the left.

Bushnell had just rounded the corner of the house when he came to a full halt. Ascot Jul stood only a few feet away, a knife in his hand.

Bushnell’s eyes drew in on the bridge of his nose. “You’re not that fast.”

“We see.”

Bushnell’s pistol rose, but he never got off a shot.

THIRTEEN

If the study door hadn’t been closed, Charles Harper’s loud, irate voice would have carried upstairs. He paraded back-and-forth before his desk, his hands clasped behind his back. With a sudden jerk, he stopped and spun on the hapless, thick-set man with the Dundreary sideburns.

“I still can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me a thing like that, Levin. From the minute he arrived in Bangor, we should’ve already been made aware of this.” Charles gestured toward the ceiling. “My brother-in-law could be dying because we didn’t know a thing like that.” He stomped over to the fireplace and glared into the flames. “It explains a lot about this morning. Oran Bushnell had nothing to lose. The only reason he might not have wanted to get caught was because his revenge wasn’t complete.” Charles ran his fingers back through his sandy hair. “It gives me a shudder to think what else he may have had planned.”

Lieutenant Levin Valliers ran his fingers around the brim of his derby hat. “Well, if that’s what he had on his mind it doesn’t matter because it’s complete now.”

Charles whirled on him. “Thanks in no small part to...”

“Julio Canerras. You don’t need to say it. He’s the only one who could have planted that knife between Bushnell’s eyes before he could even get off a shot.”

“I don’t care who did it, just so that maniac was stopped.” Charles’ color dwindled to return in a flush. “There are women and children in this house, in the Cadence family. My wife is with child, for the love of Pete. It gives me a cold shiver to think about him getting into this house. If we had had the faintest idea of what was going on in his head, we could have been prepared for the possibility of something like this. As it stands, we weren’t, and it could have cost a life.”

“It already has.”

Charles frowned. “If, by that, you mean Oran Bushnell, I couldn’t care less. He got what he deserved, long past due as it is, so let’s leave it at that.”

Levin approached Charles. “Then maybe there’s something you would like to tell me.”

Charles’ eyes narrowed. “I think I’ve already given you an earful. Of course, if you want some more I’m more than willing to oblige.”

“I don’t mean that. Word has filtered back to me that you and your brother-in-law may have been involved in, shall we say, throwing a scare into Mr. Bushnell.”

Charles came to stand toe-to-toe with the lieutenant. “That’s one thing I like about the police. When something like this happens, find a way to blame the victim.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“The truth rarely is.” Charles turned back to the fire.

“Word also has it that Canerras was in on it.”

Charles whirled back around. “Ah, come on, Levin, you know that I have an acquaintance with Julio. He keeps the docks from blowing up in everybody’s faces, and he’s the got the best ears out there so I’d be a fool not to use them. So in return I help him whenever he needs it, short of breaking the law, of course.”

“I’ve always heard that abduction is against the law.”

“Then tell me just who you think I abducted.”

“Oran Bushnell.”

“Then you should go ask him.”

“That isn’t the slightest bit funny, Charles.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Charles, if you…”

A knock at the door interrupted them. Charles saw this as his opportunity to pull himself away from the lieutenant’s grilling. He excused himself and went to answer it.

Levin stayed by the fireplace, but tilted his head to one side in an effort to make out the muffled voices. In his line of work eavesdropping went with the territory. Most times the best way to learn something from someone was to pick it up when they thought you couldn’t hear them. This time he couldn’t.

Charles turned back to face the lieutenant. “Now, I’ve told you all that I can about this terrible mishap.”

“So that’s what you’re calling it.”

Charles came forward and the heaviness of his tread spoke louder than words. “Levin, I have no doubt, that all along Oran Bushnell intended to kill someone. Contingent on what you just told me, for all I know, he intended to kill himself and pin it on one of us, but his plans got knocked askew. According to my father-in-law, he never was one to take a slight, and thought entirely too highly of himself. We may never know the full extent of his warped schemes, and they were warped. All that matters is that he’s dead, and whatever plans remained unfulfilled died with him.”

“You hope. A man that overrun with hate never truly dies.”

“Well, the thing of it is that he didn’t intend to die just yet.”

“That doesn’t mean a whole lot.”

“Another thing my father-in-law told me. Oran Bushnell wasn’t as smart as he thought he was, that’s why Hiram always believed another person was involved in the embezzlement. Someone behind the scenes pulling Bushnell’s strings. He could never find out whom, and Bushnell wouldn’t tell, and maybe it’s just as well after all this time that we never know.”

“Maybe for you, but I’m a policeman and I always need to know. That’s how I do my job.”

Charles put an arm around his shoulders, and they started for the door. “I know, and I appreciate that, but there’s a time to let something go, and I think this one’s time is long past due.”

They went out into the entryway, and Charles walked him to the door.

“I hope now this can be laid to rest along with the poisonous man that started the whole dreadful thing. I’d be willing to bet that what you’ve been hearing about any supposed abduction was all planted by Bushnell himself.”

“All right for now. I just hope that I don’t ever find out otherwise.”

“I don’t think you’d act on it even if you did. We’ve known each other for a long time, long enough for you to know that I would never do anything to hurt the city I love or harm my family, and certainly not to make the police look foolish.” Charles fingered his mustache and grinned. “You boys in the precincts do a good enough job on your own from time-to-time without any assistance from me.”

“Forgive me if I don’t laugh at that.” Levin gave him a jaundiced look. “Okay, Charles, for the sake of our friendship.” He stuck his derby onto his head and gave it a tap. “But in the future, do be careful. You know that I don’t like to have to arrest my friends, especially when they are such pillars of the community as Charles Harper.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Levin’s gaze trailed up the stairs. “I do hope that your brother-in-law will be all right.”

“Dr. Moore says he should be. Turns out that it wasn’t as bad as we had thought. But that much blood always makes you think the worst, I guess it’s just human nature.”

“I guess.”

With that, the lieutenant left. Charles closed the door and leaned back against it with a hefty inhalation. He looked down at the expensive floral area rug, its pattern of gold, green and shades of rose now marred and stained by drying blood. He doubted if it could be cleaned, and he wasn’t sure he or Lucinda would want to keep it now, even if it could be. The heels of his hands rubbed into his eyes as if they could wipe away all that he had seen that morning. He riffled his sandy blond hair then smoothed it back and started up stairs like a man draped in ponderous chains. There was something he needed to talk to Adam about.

Angelica put down her husband’s hand and rose from the side of the bed and went to answer the door.

Charles’ eyes flicked past her. “I don’t mean to disturb him; I just wanted to check, and see how he’s doing. Before he left Dr. Moore stopped by my study to give me the good news.”

“It’s all right, Angel, I’d like to talk to him.”

She looked back toward the bed. “All right, but do remember what the doctor said.” She turned back to Charles and lowered her voice. “Blood loss has left him weak, and Dr. Moore said for him to get a lot of rest, so don’t stay too long.” Her teeth clamped onto her lower lip. “I never thought that man was so evil that he would take it this far.”

Charles patted the back of her hand. “I don’t think any of us did, but it’s over now, and the only thing we need to concern ourselves with is getting Adam better.”

“Yes, and I will.” Her chin started to tremble. “Thank you, Charles. Thank you, and bless you for what you did.”

“Don’t thank me. If I had handled this better or differently, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.”

“If you hadn’t pulled him into the house, Oran Bushnell would most likely have killed him, so I say again, bless you.” Then she kissed him on the cheek and went out.

As the door closed, Charles moved closer to the bed. “You look a sight better than you did two hours ago. You’ve got some of your color back.”

Adam winced as he pulled the loose shirt around him. “I would hope that I don’t look as bad as I feel, since I feel like a warmed over corpse.” He could see the guilt splashed over his brother-in-law’s face. “It happened, Charles.”

Fire blazed up in Charles eyes. “Well, it shouldn’t have. You and I had no idea what we were walking into.” He rubbed his hands together as if he didn’t know what to do with them then crossed his arms. “I had a good long talk with Lieutenant Valliers.” He snorted. “It was more like a one-sided shouting match with me doing all the shouting.” He started to pace then stopped and faced the bed again. “Oran Bushnell was dying.”

Adam leaned forward, but a grimace reminded him that this wasn’t such a good idea. He gripped his bandaged shoulder, and settled back into the comfort of the fluffy pillows. “That would explain a lot. This whole thing was a suicide mission.”

“I don’t think suicide was his goal, at least not yet, anyway.”

“I suppose the lieutenant told you what was killing him.”

“Consumption, according to the prison doctor. That’s why they released him five years shy of the twenty he was supposed to serve. He had always been a model prisoner, so the warden saw no reason not to. That isn’t, however, what makes me so angry. Since they figured he might come back here, they sent a detailed report to Valliers.” Charles’ fists knotted. “He knew all about Bushnell’s death sentence, but never said a word.”

“I guess he had his reasons.”

“Whatever they were they weren’t good enough. If we had had that kind of information we could’ve gone at this thing in a whole different direction. What we did last night wasn’t a bad approach to a healthy man who wanted to stay that way, but Bushnell had no such aspirations. He just wanted his revenge, and he didn’t care if he got killed to accomplish it.”

Adam studied his brother-in-law. “I have a feeling that isn’t the only thing you came up here to tell me.”

Charles shook his head. “There are some things you need to know, and it’s a good thing you’re lying down for what I’m about to tell you. But first I need to say something. Until all this came up I didn’t really know what kind of man Angelica had married, but now I do. I know I can trust the man that saved my life a while ago with a secret that mustn’t go beyond these walls.”

“You have my word that it won’t.”

“I knew that.” Charles went and checked out in the hall then closed the door, and came back to the bed. “Among other things, I know who Bushnell’s accomplice was in the embezzlement. It pays to have friends like Julio Canerras. They can dig up information and learn things that the police can’t, and I’ve always been good at putting two-and-two together.” He sighed. “I’ve always known, at least since I came into the Cadence family, but I love Lucinda, and I think very highly of her entire family. I couldn’t stand the thought of this tearing them apart.”

“But it wasn’t the elder Hiram. The man who wrote that journal could never have been involved in something like that. I could sense the pain, anguish and indecision in his words. It truly tore him apart to turn in Bushnell.”

“More than you know, but I’ll get to that in a minute.” It seemed the hardest thing for him to say. “The accomplice was Hiram Jr.”

“For some reason, that doesn’t surprise me. I don’t know him all that well, but I get the impression that he likes money a little too much, and everything it can buy.”

“He does. Just like Bushnell, he’s always had a taste for the finer things in life. He knew Hiram would leave him some money when he passed away, but Junior had no idea when that would be. Plus, I think he craved the adventure, the chance to prove that he could stay a step ahead of the hounds, so to speak.”

“Then I can’t understand why he chose Bushnell. I wouldn’t have trusted the man to latch the garden gate, not the way he drank.”

“He didn’t always drink like that, but there’s still more to it…. Oran Bushnell… was Junior’s father.”

Now Adam was shocked, and it showed. “But I thought the birthmark…”

“It isn’t common knowledge, even Verina doesn’t know it, but Hiram and Oran were half-brothers. Like you and your brothers, they had the same father but different mothers. However, unlike you, Oran’s father never married his mother, in fact, he never knew about his oldest son. She apparently left Bangor when she found out, and died when Oran was born. Her married sister, Nandine Bushnell, raised him. They never knew they were brothers until Oran came to Bangor. They looked different enough to not be taken as brothers, but they both had that birthmark.”

Adam frowned and set his eyes on his hands, and Charles could read what ran through his mind. “It wasn’t Verina’s fault. Not long after Oran had introduced her to his brother as a friend, he realized that there was an attraction between them and it infuriated him. So, one night, he found Verina alone…, and he had his way with her then told her that she had to marry him or he’d spread it all over Bangor. She told him to do what he wanted , but she still turned him down, and that only infuriated him more.” Charles came to the side of the bed. “Hiram found out three days later when Oran let it slip to his brother, and I guess Hiram just about killed him Then he went straight and proposed to Verina. To this day, I don’t believe she knows that he knew about the attack. It isn’t fair to say that he didn’t love her then, but the reason for the abruptness of his proposal…”

“Was because he feared there would be a child, and he didn’t want to see her reputation tarnished.”

“Exactly. Oh, he had always planned on popping the question, but this only pushed up his timetable. And what may have been there in the beginning grew into a love affair that we all dream of.”

“So he knew that Junior wasn’t his.”

“Yes, he knew, but that never prevented him from loving the boy. If you’ve noticed, Junior looks more like his mother than his father, and the only thing that brands him as a Cadence is the birthmark.”

Adam scowled. “Which doesn’t clear up a thing, since either Oran or Hiram could have passed it on.”

“Junior isn’t at all like either of his parents or any of his brothers or sisters. With Hiram it was all about the family, work and money always came secondary to that.” Charles shook his head. “Not so with Junior. When Hiram got him the job working for Hugh Pendleton, the first thing he wanted to know was how much he would be making. That’s all that seemed to matter to him. And his wife comes from one of the best Bangor families.”

“By best you mean wealthy.”

Charles only nodded.

“That still doesn’t say that he wasn’t Hiram’s son.”

“When the baby was born, he had a heart murmur. Hiram said it scared Verina to death, and she hung over him like a protective angel. The doctor had told them that he might grow out of it. And sure enough, by the time he was about six it was gone, not a trace. Verina always feared that their other children would have it, but it never happened again. Now Hiram said he always had a heart like a hammer, but once, when he and Oran got to talking about the disparity of their respective childhoods…”

Adam’s eyes turned black as his pupil’s swallowed up most of the hazel. “Oran was born with a heart murmur.”

“That’s right, and it went away when he was about six or seven.”

“But with everything played so close to the vest, I don’t see how Junior found out.”

“I don’t know for sure that he did, I can only speculate. But if he did he certainly would have used it to his advantage, and his knowledge certainly would give explanation to some things. I would guess that the whole embezzlement was Junior’s idea, but he needed someone in a better position to pull it off. I’d say he knew just how to stroke Bushnell’s ego. He also probably figured that the man couldn’t turn down his own son.”

“That’s if Bushnell knew.”

“That’s right, but I don’t think one has to do too much conjecturing as to why Bushnell never gave up his accomplice. I mean, this was, after all, his son, his and Verina’s, and I like to think that in some small way, he still loved her at that point.” He came back around to the side of the bed again. “But while he was in prison everything, even that, seems to have just festered into the most malicious kind of hatred, and everyone in the family became a target. No doubt the fact that he contracted his disease in prison had something to do with it.” He grinned with irony. “I’d say that explains why Junior left for Canada in such an abrupt manner when we heard about Bushnell’s release from prison.”

“I can’t help but wonder if Bushnell bore him a grudge.”

“We’ll probably never know, but it doesn’t matter now. This nightmare is at an end, and we need to move past it.”

“There is something I would like to know.”

“Name it, and I’ll tell you if I can.”

“Why Bushnell never brought out the fact that he and Hiram were brothers. That would’ve blown the lid off of everything, and there would’ve been no way to put it back.”

“I can’t say for certain, but here goes. Hiram used to say how Oran would always choke up when he talked about his mother, how he missed never knowing her, and he hated his father for what he called deflowering her. He was raised on stories about her from her sister. If I had to guess, I’d say it was because he didn’t want to taint her memory and drag her through the mud.”

“Well, we’ll just give him.”

“He was a sick man in more ways than one, and he caused enough hurt to last thirty lifetimes. But not everything that came out of it was bad. Though he didn’t know it, Oran Bushnell did something right, and it would have gone against the grain. He brought Adam Cartwright to Bangor.”

Charles held out his hand. Adam gripped it, and his brother-in-law capped his other hand over it.

“I was raised with five sisters, three in front and two in back. Both my brothers died when they were no older than one, so I never really knew what it was like to have brothers until I married Lucinda.” He squeezed Adam’s hand. “I should’ve done this a long time ago. Welcome to my family.”

“Thank you, Charles.”

FOURTEEN

Adam had given himself three days to regain some strength when he announced – much to Angelica’s and the doctor’s chagrin – that it was time to go home. Long past time, to be factual, he had added, and no one had been able to talk him from his mindset. So here, in the midst of a windy, cold spring day, they stood on the platform at the train station while Charles saw to the luggage.

“Oh, what a day to be out,” Lucinda said, and brought her cloak around the red-haired baby girl in her arms.

Angelica’s eyes rose toward the sky. “Well, at least it isn’t snowing. I suppose that’s something.”

Charles came toward them with a brisk stride, and slapped his gloved hands together. “Everything is taken care of. Now you should let me take that fine young man.”

Adam, his left arm in a sling, shifted Benjy, who sat in the crook of his father’s good arm. “We’re doing all right.”

“Well, at least let me have someone. I need to work on my father skills.”

Maggie released a small hand and gave the boy a nudge toward his uncle.

Charles bent at the waist with outstretched arms. “Come here, my lad.” The child giggled with glee as his uncle scooped him up. “There, that’s better.” His eyes roved over the little guy’s face, and his confusion was evident. “I would appreciate it if someone would please tell me which one this is.”

“I’ve got Benjy and Maggie has Hiram so that means you have Addy.”

Charles shook his head. “I still haven’t figured out how you tell them apart.”

Angelica caught the hood of her cloak as the wind tried to blow it off her head. “They aren’t the same size, and Addy is more outgoing and aggressive than his brothers.”

Charles frowned. “They look just the same to me. But then I haven’t been around them as much as you have.”

“All aboard for the westbound!” The timbre of the conductor’s voice changed. “All aboard!”

“That’s us.” Adam stepped to Charles. “It’s been a real experience, but like you said, it hasn’t all been bad. We found some things that we had forgotten or didn’t really know we had.”

Charles’ arms tightened around the little boy he held. “It’s too bad that Oran Bushnell doesn’t know that some good came out of what he tried to do this family.”

The sides of Adam’s mouth turned up in a grin that sparkled in his eyes. “It would be nice to think that he had figured it out.”

Lucinda’s brow fell into a stern scowl. “We won’t talk about that wretched creature any more. His name is not to be used ever again.”

“Yes, dear.”

“All aboard for the westbound! Last Call! All aboard!”

Lucinda handed the baby back to her mother. “I do wish that you could stay a little while longer. Now that we have that unpleasant business out of the way we could enjoy just being with each other. We’re really going to need our family in the days ahead to put this behind us and help the healing.”

“I wish we could, but Adam is right that we do need to get home.”

“I know, and I understand that, but…”

“The miles that separate us can only keep us apart if we let them.”

Lucinda’s eyes welled with tears as she embraced her sister around the baby then she turned to Adam and placed a soft hand on his cheek. “I haven’t been entirely fair with you, but my eyes have been opened to what my sister has seen all along. I only hope you can forgive me.”

“I will only on the condition that you forgive yourself. What’s done it done, so we’ll just put it behind us and move on. Life’s too short to worry it away about what we did or didn’t do. We shouldn’t try to relive yesterday or live tomorrow until it comes.”

“I don’t know how the Cadence women were ever so fortunate to find such men.”

They all started toward, and the train the women and children were helped onto it first.

Adam, his good arm now free, extended his hand out, and Charles grasped it. He glanced around to make sure that his sister-in-law wouldn’t hear. “Don’t have any regrets about what we tried to do.” His eyes went to his injured shoulder. “And don’t have any about this. Maybe what we did wasn’t exactly what the law would’ve approved of, but if it’s one thing the country I live in has taught me, it’s that sometimes a man has to go into the shadows to protect those he loves.”

“Our environment can teach us a lot of things, and we don’t always like what we learn, but we use it just the same.”

The train’s whistle reminded them that they had run out of time. Then, after a final shake of hands, Adam went up the steps and disappeared into the car. Charles stepped back to stand beside his wife, and put an arm around her shoulders. He looked over at her and smiled as she took a hankie from her reticule and daubed at her eyes.

“I thought you were the one that wasn’t the crier in the family.”

“I think it’s the baby. I have heard that women cry more when they are expecting.”

He grinned, and his arm squeezed around her. “Of course they do.”

With another bellow of the whistle, a surge of steam bled out through the valves, and the engine started forward. Angelica and the children waved from a window, and Lucinda’s handkerchief fluttered on the breeze as she used it to wave back.

Adam took his seat next to Angelica; Elizabeth is her lap with her small face close to the window. Maggie sat in the seat across from them with the boys.

Adam could tell that something still bothered Angelica, and by nothing other than the expression she wore. He reached out and grasped her wrist, and her eyes shouted it to him. “You might as well tell me what it is.”

“It’s just all that has happened since we got here, and the fact that I came so close to possibly losing you.”

“I think it’s more than that. You forget that I’ve learned to read your face like a beautiful book.” He touched her cheek. “And I’m reading right now that you’re worried about something else.”

She removed the baby’s cap and ruffled the sweaty red curls, but Elizabeth’s attention never diverted from the scenery that rushed past the window. “I think most of all it’s a fear that Mother may some day find out about all this. And I suppose it frightens me most that she would be angry with us for keeping it from her.”

“I think you’re selling your mother short. She’ll understand why you did it and love you all the more for it.” He put a finger under her chin and turned her face to him. “But that still isn’t all of it, I can see it in those bottomless pools you call eyes.

“I’m afraid this isn’t truly over. I harbor this horrid dread in the back of my head that something still lies concealed, just waiting to spring when we suspect it the least.”

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze as he pulled it into his lap. “I can see how you would feel that way, but I think your fears are only that. Oran Bushnell was one angry man who blamed the wrong ones for his problems. It’s always easier to do that than to admit to your own faults.”

“I know, but I…”

“Don’t fret yourself, Angel; it’s over so let it lie. Don’t let him win.”

She smiled but there wasn’t a touch of sincerity in it then she turned back to the baby.

Adam felt a tug at his leg and looked down to see Addy as the boy tried to pull himself up. “Let me help you with that, son.” With only the use of his good arm, Adam helped the child scramble up behind him. Addy grinned and showed those pearly little teeth, and Adam couldn’t help but grin back at the boy, but it masked what he felt inside. And he would never let it show to Angelica or anyone in his family. It would be his dark secret.

*******

The creased sheet of paper fluttered to the floor like an oversized snowflake, and one side of it rested against the hem of her dress. She stared down but more past it than at it. The inside of her mouth tasted like what one might imagine gunpowder to taste like. Her hand covered her lips, and the notion darted through her head if it was to keep her from crying out. Oh, what am I to do, she thought.

“Verina! Verina!”

Her heart ran off on a wild tangent like a frightened deer. Her frantic, pale gray eyes raced to the top landing of the stairs. He could never know of this, her Ben could never find out about her shame, which the letter said was more reprehensible than even she had known.

“Verina!”

In one quick movement, she snapped up the page and dashed to the stone hearth where a fire blazed. She let her gaze trace over the infamous words one last time then she consigned it to the flames where it belonged. She blinked to hold back the tears as she watched it curl and blacken. If he saw her crying he would want to know why, and she didn’t dare tell him. Goodness knew that she could never tell him the truth for she couldn’t stand the thought of losing him, and lose him she feared she would. He didn’t know about this letter, which one of the hands had brought from town, and it must remain her secret.

“So there you are.”

She looked toward the staircase as he started down, and hoped that the heat of the fire would suffice as an excuse for her appearance.

“I would’ve thought that you would’ve answered me.”

She hoped her smile was convincing. “I was just thinking about the children when they were small, and I suppose I just didn’t hear you.” She held her hand out to him as he left the last step. “It’s such an inviting fire, do come stand with me.”

He made his way past the low table, and stopped behind her. His arms encircled her, and in an instant he became aware of a minute trembling. “You’re shivering.”

“I got a slight chill, but it’ll be all right now.” She took a deep breath. “Hold me, Ben, just hold me.”

THE END

AUTHOR’S NOTES:

A reticule was a small drawstring purse made of fabric.

Dundreary whiskers were sideburns that were grown long and allowed to hang from the sides of the face while the chin was clean-shaven.

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