Authors: Patricia Hagan
He moved through the woods, dismounting only far enough away from the headquarters building that he would be able to keep a watch on foot, yet not have to run too far for his horse when the time came to follow Blackmon.
The day wore on. He climbed a tree, hiding among the leaves for cover. Though it was only early March, it was damn hot.
Finally, the sun sank, leaving a murky sea of yellow pink waves in the horizon. Rance was tired and hungry, but he was not about to leave his perch in the tree. He had watched the women being led back to their quarters and tried to single out the one called Selma, but could not. They all looked the same in their drab, shapeless, toe-length garments.
Suddenly a movement caught his eye and he strained to see in the gathering darkness. Yes, it was Blackmon, all right. No mistaking the bulk of the man. Fury surged through Rance’s body as he scrambled down from the tree. If he were hiding April, then there was little doubt as to why. And by God, he would have his revenge.
He watched just long enough to see the sergeant mount a horse and head toward a mountain to the northwest of the stockade, and then Rance was running for Virtus.
He rode along at a safe distance behind, skirting through the woods in the shadows to make sure he was not observed. He rode for nearly an hour. Damn, but it was a long way, he swore impatiently. If Selma had led him on a wild-goose chase, he was going to go back and tell her a thing or two. But somehow, he sensed that she wasn’t lying. She had no reason to. And there was no denying the wild, frantic look in her eyes as she darted furtive glances around to make sure no one saw her talking to him.
Finally, Blackmon wound his way through a thick grove of trees toward a small cabin nestled deep within. Rance left Virtus behind and went the rest of the way on foot, careful not to make a sound. As he got near the cabin, Rance crawled on his belly to just beneath a small, narrow window. He crouched there and waited.
His heart soared when he heard her voice. She was alive!
“I fixed a stew,” he heard her say in a thin, defeated voice.
“Ahh, it’s not a stew I’m after, darlin’,” came the sergeant’s lusty reply. Damn his soul to hell, thought Rance.
“One of these days you’ll want me as much as I do you and then you’ll thank me for keeping you here.”
“I’ll thank you when you take me home,” came her emotionless voice. She sounded exhausted, as though she had lost all will to live. “Kaid, you promised—”
“Damn it, don’t start in on me again, woman. I told you—when the time is right, I’ll take you. Not before. I can’t risk nobody finding out you ain’t dead, or it’ll be my head for sure. There was a man at the stockade asking about you just today.”
“There was?” she echoed, her voice much stronger. “What was his name? Why was he looking for me? Tell me everything, Kaid, please.”
“Forget about him. It ain’t important.”
“But it is!” she cried.
Rance could hear signs of a struggle, then silence. He raised slowly up on tiptoe to peer inside. He could just barely make them out as they tussled on the floor on a pine straw mattress. He could see April struggling against the man, hear her moans of protest.
Rance drew his sidearm and made his way around toward the door. He heard Kaid’s cajoling voice going on and on. “Now come on, darlin’. We made a bargain, and I’m going to keep my end of it, but you gotta give me time. Now come on and let me love you, please. Tell me you want me to love you.”
At the sound of the cabin door crashing against the wall, Kaid sprang backward with a guttural cry of surprise. Rance stood pointing his pistol straight at him. “We meet again, Blackmon,” he said with deadly quiet.
“You! How did you—”
April interrupted with her own cry of surprise. Scrambling to her feet, she ran straight for Rance, arms open wide, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. “It’s you! Oh, praise God for answering my prayers, Rance! It’s you.”
He held out one arm to wrap her protectively against his chest as he held his weapon unwaveringly on Kaid. Kaid looked from the gun to April, his mouth opening and closing in silent rage.
“You falsified records because you wanted her for yourself. Once Tarboro closed and things tightened down, you kept her your own personal prisoner.” His voice raised to a cry. “I ought to kill you, you bastard…cut your balls off and leave you to die.”
Kaid did not wince. He just continued to glare. Nodding to April, he asked quietly, “Do I deserve that, darlin’? Have I been mean to you? Do I deserve to die? Have I ever forced you to love me?”
Rance felt her shudder, heard her quick intake of breath. Just then a movement at the door caught his eye and he glanced quickly to see the big white dog standing there, teeth bared, hair standing up on his back.
“Don’t shoot him, please,” April cried. “He’s my dog. We…we’ve been through a lot together.”
“So have we,” Kaid said quietly. “You gonna let him kill me, April?”
Rance removed his arm from about her and pushed her away so his eyes could rake over her. She realized that she was still naked, and she tried to cover herself with her hands. “Do you want me to kill him, April? Maybe you better explain.”
“I don’t want him to die,” she said quickly. “He saved my dog’s life at the risk of his own. He kept my life from being completely miserable. He never let the other guards have their way with me, and I never suffered the way the others did. Oh, Rance, let him live. Just get me out of here. Take me home, please.” She was sobbing with exhaustion and near hysterics.
“I can’t take you home, April, but I can take you with me.” He motioned for her to get her clothes on. “Take your dog and wait outside. I’ll be right out.”
Darting anxious glances at the two men who stood eyeing each other warily, April dressed quickly, then hurried out into the darkness with Lucky.
When they were alone, Kaid said, “Look, Taggart, no matter what you think, I never harmed that girl. I tried to make things easy for her. Maybe I did lie and say she was dead so I could keep her for my own, but it was doing her a favor. Anything could’ve happened if she’d been left in the stockade. I swear I ain’t never hurt her.”
“All right. I won’t kill you. We’ll just go peacefully.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll track you down. I won’t let her go. Maybe you better go on and kill me right here and now.”
Rance saw that the man had guts to be talking so boldly with a gun pointed right at him. But he also knew that he was challenging him to ruthlessly shoot him down in cold blood after April had made a plea for him to be spared. But the decision did not require much thought. He had never feared any man, and the thoughts of this one, big and ugly though he was, coming after him, would not cause him to lose any sleep.
He replaced the gun in his holster. With narrow, slitted eyes, he asked, “You want to settle this now?”
A slow smile spread across Blackmon’s face. “Naw. You just keep lookin’ over your shoulder, Taggart. One of these nights, I’ll be slippin’ up on you.”
Rance shrugged. “Have it your way. Now or later, it doesn’t matter to me.”
Rance simply turned and walked away, and Blackmon could not help but marvel at the gut courage of the man. He might have just shot him, got rid of him easily.
Rance took April’s hand and silently led her through the woods to Virtus. He could feel her trembling once more as he lifted her, seating her behind the saddle.
“Will the dog follow?” He looked down at Lucky, who seemed quite at ease now. April nodded. “His name is Lucky. And he’ll follow.”
They had not gone far through the night when he felt her place her hands about his waist and lean her cheek against his back. “I still can’t believe it,” she murmured dreamily…happily.
He said nothing.
“You do love me, don’t you, Rance?”
He stiffened.
She lifted her head from his back, removed her hands from his waist. “That is why you came after me, isn’t it?” she asked in a strange voice, “Because you realized you do love me…after all?”
He turned in the saddle to look at her beautiful face in the moonlight, ire in her bright blue eyes. “Love you?” he echoed arrogantly, his mocking smile flashing in the night. “Love doesn’t have a thing to do with it, April.”
“Then why…?” she gasped. “Why did you go to so much trouble to find me?”
He gave her a maddening smile and turned back around to face the road ahead.
“Answer me, Rance Taggart, damn you!” she exploded, beating on his back with her fists. “If you don’t love me, then why didn’t you just leave me where I was? Why can’t you admit you care about me?”
He reined Virtus to an abrupt stop and whirled around to pull her in front of him. Cradling her tightly in his arms, he stared down at her moon-bathed face and whispered huskily, “What’s it going to take, blue eyes, for you to realize that you belong to me? You are my property. I always claim my property.”
His lips came down upon hers, in a bruising kiss. At first she squirmed and struggled against him but soon she surrendered to his strength and her own desire. She began to return his kiss, to part her lips and receive his hot, probing tongue.
“Don’t get excited, little one,” he laughed, abruptly releasing her. “We don’t have time for that right now, but later, we’ll make up for all the nights we were apart.”
“You…you pompous, arrogant ass!” she hissed, twisting and almost falling from the horse.
“Damnit, April, get still,” he snapped, jerking her against him tightly with one arm, using the other to snap the reins. Virtus began to move along.
Despite the rebellion smoldering within, April felt a wave of desire for him. Damn him, she thought, damn him all the way to hell.
Because, though fury boiled within her, April had to admit—if only to herself—that for whatever time she spent with Rance Taggart, she would glory in it, glory in each hour spent in his arms.
Later there would be time for hating the man.
Chapter Thirty
April heard a key fumbling in the door, but she continued to lie on her side in the bed, staring at the wall. It was midafternoon, but what difference did it make what time it was? She had not been out of this blasted hotel room in the four weeks since Rance had brought her here. Nothing ever changed. He came three times a day to bring her meals, and each morning a young Negro girl brought in a tub of hot water and fresh clothes.
She heard him enter the room but she did not turn. She hated him, the war, and Richmond, Virginia, in that order. She wished everyone would just go away and leave her to wither and die.
“Still in bed, I see,” he commented, amused.
It was the amusement in his voice that caused her to roll over and glare at him. “And what else am I supposed to be doing? Pacing up and down the floor? Staring out the window at the guard you keep posted below to keep me from running away? Just what would you have me do, Rance?”
He was wearing a casual gray uniform but still displayed the captain’s stars. He was carrying a large package which he tossed unceremoniously on the bed. He walked over, sat down, and crossed his legs lazily as he watched her. She glanced down at the package but made no move to touch it. “Go ahead,” he urged. “See what I bought for you this morning. I had to guess at your size. Waist like this…” He cupped his hands together in a small circle. “Breasts like this…“ He grinned and spread his hands wider.
“You think you’re so damn smart!” She reached out and shoved the box to the floor. “I don’t want anything from you—except to be rid of you.”
He frowned. “April, how long are you going to keep this up? You were plenty glad to see me when I came to get you away from Blackmon, but as soon as you found out I didn’t plan to take you straight to a parson and marry you, you started acting like a spoiled brat.”
“I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth, Rance Taggart. I just can’t understand why you insist on keeping me around. Why don’t you go ahead and rape me and be done with it?”
He raised an eyebrow, dark eyes flashing with annoyance. “How many times did I ever rape you? And is that all you’ve got on your mind, woman? You think that’s all any man wants from you, isn’t it? Maybe deep down it’s what
you
want, and it’s just sticking in your craw that I haven’t leaped into bed with you.”
“Damn you!” She chopped the words out between tightly clenched teeth. “Damn you, Rance Taggart, you are a sorry excuse for a gentleman.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “I never claimed to be a gentleman. At least I make no pretenses, lovely lady.” He stopped his laughter and looked at her grimly. “Now get out of that bed and open the box. Your bath will be brought to you shortly, and I’ve someone coming to do your hair. We’re going to a ball tonight, and I want you to look your best.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” she sputtered, turning her face to the wall once more after pulling the spread up to her chin.
Without another word, he crossed the floor, jerked down the covers, and yanked her roughly to her feet. He ripped off the flimsy nightgown, shoved her back down on the bed, and tore open the package. The gown he laid out on the bed was beautiful, made of powder blue silk, with a daring décolletage. The wide skirt was edged in a band of delicate lace, and scallops were caught up in tiny white velvet bows.