Beverly Jenkins (21 page)

Swallowing her panic, she listened for voices or anything that might aid in determining her location or help an escape. The lapping sound of waves soon drifted to her ears followed by the distant groan of a foghorn. Was she back in San Francisco? On one of the wharves? There was no way of knowing. Her eyes began adjusting to the gloom. She was enclosed. A shack apparently, but the darkness prevented her from seeing if there was a door. She knew that room-sized shipping crates were sometimes used, so was she inside one of those? Her rope was long enough to allow her to feel the sides of her cage. Her fingers grazed over wood. She traced the length of rope she was tied with to its source and touched metal.
An anchor?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft scratch of metal against metal. She tensed as a door opened, allowing in windswept fresh air and the shadowy shape of a man. The lantern in his hand illuminated the ghoulish face of Prince DuChance.

“Where’s my son, damn you!”

He smiled. “With his new family.”

“No!” She launched herself at him but the rope wasn’t long enough.

His laugh filled the shadows. “You’ve been a thorn in my side for quite some time, Billie, and now it’s time to pay.”

“Where’s my son!” she screamed again.

“No need to worry about that. You’ll never see him again.”

“If I don’t kill you, Drew will. Where’s my son, you bastard?”

“Yates may or may not, but you won’t because I’m going to kill you first.” The knife appeared in his hand. The long blade caught the glow from the lantern and gleamed sinisterly. “I’ll enjoy sliding this across your throat even more than I did Emmalina Ruiz.”

“Did you set fire to Addy’s house, too?” she demanded.

“Since you’ll never live to point the finger at me, yes, I arranged that. The witch deserved to burn. She’d been poisoning my mother for years.”

“Because you murdered her daughter Chassie, and Pearl refused to intervene when Chassie asked for protection from you.”

He shrugged. “Oh, well.”

Billie’s mind quickly searched for a way out of this nightmare alive, but nothing surfaced that might put her safely past him and the knife.

“I owe you for many things.” He set the lantern down on the dirt floor. “For my face, and for eluding me the way you have. Had you let me fuck you that night, none of this would be necessary.”

“Had my derringer done its job, none of this would be necessary.”

“Cunt. First I’m going to have you and then I’m going to kill you.”

He advanced and she drew in a quivering breath. “Where’s my son!”

“You just worry about pleasing me so I’ll let you live a little while longer.”

He placed the sharp tip of the knife beneath her chin and she forced herself to stay calm even as she gathered her strength. Grinning like something truly out of a nightmare, he squeezed her breast, then slid the hand down to her waist. She let him grope between her legs. Looking up into his face, she closed her eyes as if enjoying his touch and let herself go slightly limp. When the top of her head exploded beneath his chin with the force of her outrage, he screamed and the knife went flying. She quickly grabbed his lapels and kneed him viciously in the groin. The agony doubled him over and she brought her closed fists down on his spine. As he collapsed she launched her knee again, this time into his already shattered chin. He cried out, hit the ground, and she kicked him in the ribs evoking a sickening crack, then stomped on his spine as hard as she could. Heaving with rage, she picked up the knife, cut herself free, and grabbed the lantern. For a moment he lay there moaning. Very slowly he lifted his head and the blood-covered face turned her way. He spit out teeth and the tip of his tongue bitten off by her first strike. Eyes glowing like hell spawn, he made a move to rise, but she slammed the lantern down hard on his shoulder blades. The glass shattered with a whoosh, spreading oil and flames that licked at the fuel saturating his clothing and heavily pomaded hair like something alive.

Bellowing, he frantically slapped at the blaze rising from his shoulders and hair and got to his feet staggering back and forth and bumping against the walls in a blind, desperate attempt to escape the gruesome inferno he’d become.

Seething, and deaf to his screaming, she watched and waited.

Again and again he stumbled into the walls while the putrid smell of burning flesh rose and filled the shack. Around and around he went, twisting, screaming, and aflame. His weight finally broke through one of the wood walls, and as if sensing the water nearby, he zigzagged away, his howls piercing the night.

She didn’t follow. Seconds later, a splash melded with a tortured wail, followed by silence.
Prince will go by water because that was my daughter’s gift.
She wondered if Addy’d known he’d die by her gift of fire as well.

Gathering herself, Billie finally cried and ran shaking hands over her face. Certain he wouldn’t be returning, she stepped through the broken wall and into the night. Walking past the small knot of people staring curiously at the water and then at her, she headed towards the city. She knew Drew was tearing up creation trying to find his family, and now that she’d freed herself she needed to aid in the search for their son. She headed for the Barbary.

Gertie’s was bright and gay with the sounds of laughter and music when Billie walked through the doors. When those inside got a look at her disheveled hair and clothing, the flecks of blood staining her face and hands, the place went silent as a tomb.

“Billie!” an alarmed Gertie cried.

The long journey from the docks had used up the remaining dregs of Billie’s adrenaline-fueled strength. The scene before her eyes became hazy and she wanted to tell the madam to send someone to tell Drew where she was, but she crumpled to the floor instead.

Chapter 22

A
knock on the door drew Drew’s attention away from the window and to the clock on the wall. It read ten o’ clock, and he wondered who it might be at such a late hour. Walking over to answer the knock he prayed Billie would be standing on the other side, and if not her, someone bearing good news. Instead he met the eyes of a short woman carrying a young boy asleep on her shoulder. He recognized her immediately. “Jenna?”

“Hello, Mr. Yates. May I come in?”

He studied her for a moment but stepped back so she could enter. “What are you doing here?”

“To tell you where your son is before I leave town.”

His heart pounded with the excitement and hope. Dozens of questions competed to be asked first but she confessed, “I was the one who delivered him for Prince.”

He searched her face again even as he yelled for Logan asleep in the bedroom. The boy in her arms stirred but didn’t awaken. “Why don’t you lay him down over there so we can talk.”

She shook her head. “I’ll only be here a minute or two. I’m on my way to the train station and hopefully to a place where Prince will never find me again.”

“Where’d you take my son?”

When she told him, his knees buckled.

“Prince threatened to murder my son if I didn’t help him.”

Ignoring for the moment the implications surrounding the name she’d revealed, he asked, “How do you know DuChance?”

“He’s my son’s father.”

A sleepy-looking Logan arrived dressed in his denims but still pulling on his shirt. He froze at the sight of Jenna Lane and cast quizzical eyes his brother’s way.

“I have to go,” she said. “Please tell Naomi I’m sorry for the fire. Was anyone hurt?”

“Not physically, but people lost their livelihoods.”

“If could undo that I would, but he left me no choice. Tell Billie I’m sorry, too. If things had turned out differently maybe we could’ve become friends this time.”

“This time? You know my wife?”

“Yes. We both worked at the Black Pearl. It’s where I first met Prince.”

Drew was too shocked to speak.

“Good-bye.”

And before he could ask her anything else, she was gone.

D
rew pulled up in front of the big house. There were a few lights on inside, so the residents were up. He sat there for a moment trying to decide how best to go about this heartbreaking task, but they had his son, and they were going to have to give him back.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Logan asked.

“No.”

His knock on the door was answered by a surprised James Anderson. “Drew? How are you? What brings you here at this late hour?”

“May I come in?”

“Certainly.”

James stepped aside. Upon entering Drew heard a baby crying and his eyes immediately went to the stairs leading to the home’s upper floor.

James smiled. “That’s our new son. We just adopted him a few days ago. It’s taking him a bit to get used to his new home.”

The cries were so familiar, Drew had to close his eyes and draw in a deep breath.
Antonio.
He sent up a prayer of extreme thanks, but at the same time, in spite of his last visit, he’d called the Anderson’s friends for years. This would not be easy.

“So, what brings you here?”

“My son. The baby DuChance arranged for you to have is mine.”

James’s eyes widened and he searched Drew’s face with wonder.

Drew continued, “His name’s Antonio Andrew Yates. He was stolen along with my wife by DuChance two days ago.”

His eyes grew even larger and his hand went to his mouth. “No!” he whispered. “The woman who brought him here said the child was hers but she couldn’t afford to keep him.”

“It was a cruel ruse, Jim. I know how long you and Consuela have wanted a child of your own and I wouldn’t come here with such an accusation if it weren’t the truth.”

“But—”

“He has a birthmark on his back. I have one that matches it in the same place. He’s my son, Jim. I’ve come to take him home.”

Jim dropped down into a chair and his head fell into his hands. Stricken eyes met Drew’s. “Consuela’s been so happy. This is going to break her heart. I didn’t want to deal with DuChance but ’Suela said he’d handled similar arrangements for a couple she knew and that everything turned out well. How will I tell her?”

“I don’t know but I’ve been turning over the world trying to find him.”

“I won’t ask you if you’re sure. As you said, you wouldn’t have come on just a whim. And she and I both noticed the mark.”

He sat there for a moment but finally got to his feet. With shoulders slumped as if straining under the weight of the world, he climbed the stairs. Moments later, Drew heard Consuela’s tortured cry ring out, “No!”

Wanting to kill DuChance for the pain he’d caused them all, Drew waited tensely.

The couple descended the stairs together. Consuela carried Antonio. Tears ran unchecked down both their faces. Upon seeing him, Antonio literally jumped into his father’s embrace. Consuela stood and watched silently. Drew’s own tears flowed as he kissed his son and held him tightly and rocked back and forth and gave silent thanks again and again for his safe return. “I’m so sorry, Consuela.”

“No more than I, Drew.” She ran her hand lovingly over the babe’s head in a solemn farewell, and her glistening eyes shed more tears. “Take your son home,” she whispered.

He nodded, and father and son made their silent exit.

Logan took the reins, and Drew held his son, who kept peeking up at his face. “Yes, it’s your papa. Uncle Logan and I are pretty pleased to see you.”

He snuggled close and Drew kissed his head. “Now, we have to find your mama.”

When they returned to the apartment, Mr. Volga came running out. “A messenger left this for you. Said it’s very important.” Drew tried to hand Antonio to Logan so he could read the note but Antonio pitched such a fit, Drew kept him close.

“I don’t think he’s going to let anyone else hold him for a while,” Logan said, observing his nephew with a smile.

Antonio burrowed into Drew’s chest as if trying to get beneath his skin.

Logan touched his head gently. “Can’t much blame the little fella.”

When Drew looked up from the note tears stood in his eyes. “Billie’s with Gertie,” he said softly.

Logan yelled happily.

Drew said, “I’ve never cried this much in my life.”

“You are a bit of a mess. Let’s go get your wife.”

While Logan sat in the carriage, Drew and the baby entered the bordello, and for the second time that night, the place went ghostly quiet. Few babies patronized Gertie’s. Drew nodded at the staring crowd. Gertie, draped in a low-cut, flowing red velvet gown, stepped forward. “Follow me.” And to the staring crowd, she snapped, “Is this a funeral or a whorehouse? Go back to having fun.”

So the piano player began banging on the keys and the drinks and laughter resumed their flow.

Following Gertie through the shadowy hallway, he asked, “Is she hurt?”

“I don’t believe so. Exhausted though. She may be asleep.”

They entered a small room anchored by a huge brass bed. Billie was asleep in the center. He walked over carrying the baby. Drew’s heart swelled with so much emotion he thought it might burst.
You will love her until there is no tomorrow.
Antonio looked down at his sleeping mother and did his best to wiggle free of Drew’s arms.

Gertie said, “He’s going to be quite the looker when he grows up.”

But Drew was looking at his wife. He wanted to wake her, and apparently so did her son. Drew sat on the edge of the mattress and set Antonio down on the quilt. He immediately crawled close. He looked back at Drew, who shrugged. “You can wake her if you think you can.”

So the little boy, who’d recently learned to give kisses, kissed his mama on the cheek and just like in a fairy tale her eyes opened, and she screamed with joy. “Tonio!” Grabbing him, her face glowing with happiness she hugged him to her and rocked and rocked. “Oh, my baby! My beautiful baby! I’ve been so worried! Where were you?”

And then she saw her husband. “Drew!” she screamed and launched herself from beneath the quilt and into his arms. Poor Tonio, squeezed between the bodies of his parents, began to cry.

Billie drew away with a teary laugh. “Oh honey, I’m sorry,” Billie apologized. “We get reunited only to crush you to death. Mama’s sorry.” Her eyes went back to Drew. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Same here.” He turned to Gertie, who was wiping her eyes. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“You’re welcome. Now take your family home. You’re making this old whore cry.”

Drew took in the revealing nightgown his wife was wearing. “Where’re your clothes so you can get dressed?”

“They have to be burned. They’re covered with blood and—”

“Blood?” His eyes filled with questions.

“Prince’s blood,” Billie explained quietly. “He’s dead, but let’s get out of here first. I can tell you about it later.”

She ended up throwing Drew’s suit coat on over the gown. “Not much of a cover,” he decided.

“This is the Barbary, they’ve seen worse or more, depending upon how you look at it.”

They gave Gertie hugs. She kissed Antonio, got a smile for her trouble and the reunited Yates family climbed into the waiting coach.

Logan smiled at his sister-in-law. “Welcome back, sissy.”

She chuckled. “Thanks, Logan. Good to be back.” She glanced lovingly into the eyes of her son, who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her either. “So, where was Tonio when you found him?”

“With Jim and Consuela Anderson.”

“Aren’t they friends of yours?”

“I suppose.”

Both she and Logan looked his way. “Why suppose?” she asked.

“Consuela and I had a difference of opinion the last time I was at her home.” He wondered how she was recalling that conversation now after tonight.

“Was it something you can talk about?”

He scanned her face in the darkness softly lit by the moon. “It had to do with you. I mentioned how anxious I was to introduce the two of you, and she told me she couldn’t entertain a woman like you in her home, at least not publicly.”

He was angered all over again.

“And?” Billie asked.

“And what?”

“And was that all she said?”

He half turned to get a better look at her. “Yes, that’s all she said.”

She placed her palm against his cheek and leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Thank you for getting all riled up on my behalf, but what did you expect her to say? She’s a society lady. Women like her don’t let women like me in their homes, not even when we’re married to wealthy, gorgeous, rancher lawyers such as yourself.”

On the far side of the wagon, Logan chuckled softly.

“Billie?” Drew cried with disbelief.

“It’s okay. My life has been fine not knowing Consuela Anderson and it will continue to be. Besides, I have a very thick skin from fending off acid looks from woman like her, so back to Tonio. How did you know he was there?”

“Jenna.”

“Lane?”

“She set the fire on Prince’s order so he wouldn’t kill her son, who Prince fathered, by the way.”

He saw the surprise. “You didn’t know.”

“No. But that maybe explains why she just seemed to disappear into thin air when I knew her before. One day she was at the Pearl, next day we were told she was gone. Never saw her again until the day we had the gathering. My goodness.”

Drew explained the rest and she shook her head. “She doesn’t have to hide now that he’s dead. I wonder if her husband knows about this.”

No one knew.

When they entered Drew’s apartment, the familiarity of the surroundings and the memories she’d made there washed over Billie like a balm, and she was finally able to convince herself that being back with her son and husband wasn’t a dream. She’d only gotten a few hours of sleep at Gertie’s, and after the excitement of the reunion was even more exhausted, but sleep would have to wait so she could have some time to be with her husband. Antonio had fallen asleep on the ride so they put him on the sofa because neither parent wanted to let him out of their sight. Over their protests Logan left to find him a room at one of the nearby hotels so they could have some privacy. He’d be back in the morning.

While their son slept peacefully, Billie savored being held in her husband’s arms and wanted to stay there for the rest of her days.

“When I came back and found you gone . . .” he said against her hair.

“I know.”

“Tired?”

“Extremely.”

“Then let’s move to the bedroom so you can lie down.”

He carried Antonio. She carried the sofa cushions and placed them on the floor beside the bed. Drew eased him down and covered him up. While he slept on unawares, Billie watched her husband put fresh sheets on the bed.

“I love my brother, but I’m not sleeping on the same sheets.”

“Drew, that isn’t necessary.”

“For me it is.”

She was impressed by his skill and proficiency. “You do that pretty well for a wealthy ranch-owning lawyer.”

“Haven’t always had servants. My brothers and I can make beds, cook, wash dishes, sweep floors. Thanks to Mama we could’ve hired out as housekeepers.”

Once the bed was ready, she slid between the fresh, crisp sheets and sighed with satisfaction. “You’re right. It did matter.”

“Told you,” he pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms. “
Dios
, I missed you.”

“Missed you, too.” She ran her eyes over the man she loved more than anything in the world. “I thought I’d never see you again. And if Prince had had his way, I wouldn’t’ve.”

“Do you want to talk about it now, or after you get some rest.”

“Let me just tell you how he died and then tomorrow I want to hear about the fire and all.”

“Deal.”

So she told him all: how she regained consciousness, searched in vain for Tonio, and about coming face-to-face with Prince. “He boasted about setting Addy’s house afire. Apparently, she’d been poisoning Pearl for years, and it was his way of seeking revenge. I suspected she was doing something like that when I lived with her, but I guess I didn’t want to believe it.”