The Raging Hearts: The Coltrane Saga, Book 2 (24 page)

The baby smacked its lips a few times, pursing them as though ready to cry. Instead, the eyelids fluttered a few times, then closed in sleep. Hugo breathed a sigh of relief. He knew how much this moment meant to his master, carrying the baby in to Miss Wright for her to see it for the first time. It wouldn’t do for the child to be crying with hunger. He turned to his master and held out the baby.

Corey looked down, eyes flashing with resentment. Another man had sired this child, a man who had tasted the sweetness he had yet to savor. He would forever have to be on guard to hide the revulsion he felt for the infant.

“Get the tray from Dulcie,” he said to Hugo as he walked across the hall. Bring it up in about ten minutes. I’m going to take the baby in to her myself. Open the door for me.”

Hugo twisted the knob, then turned on his heel and hurried away. Corey stepped inside the room, smiling at the lovely creature lying asleep on the huge, canopied bed. No one had ever used this room before. Perhaps he had subconsciously intended it for Kitty all along. The wallpaper was patterned in white and yellow roses, the furniture was of mellowed pecan, and a soft, pale blue carpet covered the floor. The spread and canopy were a deeper shade of blue, and the curtains that hung upon the doors to the front balcony were designed of the finest imported satin and velvet, the color matching the bed coverings.

He leaned over to stare at the beautiful creature before whispering, “Kitty…wake up, my dear. Kitty…”

Her long lashes fluttered, her head moving slightly. He spoke her name again, and this time her eyes opened, frightened, bewildered. She could only stare at him silently as she tried to remember where she was, what had brought her to this place. Then her gaze went to the bundle Corey McRae held in his arms. “My baby,” she cried, holding out her arms. “My baby…oh, dear God, is it all right?”

“Yes, yes, he’s fine,” Corey chuckled, amused at her delight. He handed the infant to her, and she moved to her side, opening the blanket to examine fingers and toes.

“It’s a boy.” He forced pride into his voice, proud of the way he was carrying the moment “A fine, healthy boy. The doctors says he probably weighs seven pounds, at least. And all his fingers and toes are there. I counted them.”

Kitty looked up, bewildered. “You did? You mean you were here when he was born?”

“Well, not in the room,” he laughed. “But I brought you here and summoned a doctor, and when the baby was born I was right outside the door, pacing the floor. As soon as he was cleaned up, they handed him to me, and I had to check him over and be sure myself that he was all right. He’s perfect, Kitty, just perfect, and quite beautiful.”

He was surprised he hadn’t choked on his own lies. He had waited out the birth downstairs in his parlor, sipping brandy and hoping the baby died. He hadn’t laid eyes on him till a few moments before. For all he knew, it had six toes on each foot. But Kitty was looking at him appreciatively.

“My son,” she breathed in wonder, kissing the baby’s forehead. “Oh, I can’t believe it, Corey. I can’t believe he’s really here in my arms.”

“Well, he is.” He pulled up a chair and sat down to cross his legs and watch the happy new mother fondling her newborn son.

“Do you suppose he’s hungry? He keeps smacking his lips. I suppose I should try to nurse him…”

“Oh, no.” He spoke too quickly. Her head jerked up to look at him quizzically. He cleared his throat self-consciously. “The doctor says you are much too weak, Kitty. You had a hard time delivering. He does not think you should try to nurse the baby, that it wouldn’t be good for you or him. I have already found a wet nurse.”

She protested, “But I want to nurse him myself. I’m his mother.”

“Don’t you want to do what is best for him? And what about yourself? Don’t you want to recuperate quickly so you can care for him?”

“I suppose you’re right,” she sighed. “But it is disappointing.”

She closed her eyes, and the horror of the night before came flooding back. Gideon shot. Her home and barn burned, the livestock and chickens slaughtered. Why? A tear slipped down her cheek, and Corey saw and reached to brush it away.

“I know you’re remembering what happened, Kitty,” he whispered, “but you have to try and forget. It’s over now. I only wish I could have gotten there sooner. Jacob came here. He knew it was closer than riding into town. I got there as fast as I could get my men together. I was afraid something like that would happen because I heard that Gabriel was slipping in to see his mother.”

“Nolie!” Kitty’s eyes flashed open. “What about Nolie?” She looked at him beseechingly, saw the truth in his face, and then shook her head from side to side as the tears came.

“I’m sorry. She died there on the spot. I had her brought back here, and the doctor checked her and said she probably died of a heart attack. It was a terrible thing for her to witness seeing her son gunned down. Jacob took it pretty hard. I’ve housed him in one of the servants’ cabins, and he’s resting. I have instructed Dulcie to take care of the funeral. She’s holding up quite well.”

“Why?” Kitty whispered bitterly. “Why did any of it have to happen? And why did they burn me out? Now I have nothing…nothing at all. Oh, if only Travis would hurry and come back. I have to find him, somehow, if I have to go to General Sherman myself. Travis should know he has a son…”

Corey gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain silent. He reached over and patted her shoulder and said, “Kitty, everything is going to be all right. I will look after you and the baby. Don’t worry. Just concentrate on getting your strength back because your son needs you. I won’t let you suffer anymore.”

Her violet eyes flashed. “Why should you feel an obligation to help me, Corey? I have always detested you and you know it. You took my workers away from me behind my back, sending your man over to lure them away until I had no one left but Jacob and Nolie. You were trying to break me. So why do you pretend to want to help me now?”

He leaned forward, hoping his expression looked sincere. “I regret that we started off our relationship the way we did, Kitty. I was wrong. I admit it. When I saw what those…those animals did, destroying what you had worked so hard to build, something just snapped. I wanted your land and was willing to do anything to get it, and now I wish I had just left you alone. If I hadn’t hired away your help, maybe those men would have thought twice before riding in the way they did. You would have had some protection. I am truly sorry, and I hope you will forgive me. I hope you will let me make it up to you, Kitty, by helping you and your son.”

He forced himself to reach out and touch the downy fuzz on the baby’s head, a move he hoped looked tender and adoring. “I guess I feel as though the little tyke is partly mine now, since I helped bring him into the world. If we hadn’t gone back there and found you, you would probably have both died. So, since I helped get him here, it is only fitting and proper that I help provide for him until his real father comes back.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “That is, if you will let me, Kitty.”

“Of…of course,” she stammered. “I’m very grateful to you, Corey. We would have died out there in the cold. But s soon as I’m able, I will be on my way.”

“On your way? Where will you go? You’re burned out, my dear. You have no roof over your head. No, you must stay here for a while at least. There is no other way.”

She was confused, her body sore and weak. There had to be another way. She could not live here in the house with Corey McRae. Travis would not like it. It took all the strength she could muster to make her tone sound fierce and determined. “I appreciate your kind offer, Corey, but as soon as I’m able, I’ll find a way to take care of my son by myself.”

He suppressed a smile. He saw the way her chin stubbornly jutted upward. The girl had spirit, and how he was going to enjoy it in his bed. “Whatever you wish, Kitty,” he murmured. “But please remember this is your home for as long as you desire.”

Hugo’s soft rap upon the door could not have come at a better time. Corey told him to enter, which he did, carrying a tray of food, with Dulcie behind him. Reluctantly, Kitty handed over the baby. She told the Negro girl that she was sorry about her mother.

Dulcie blinked back the tears. “Yes’m, I knows you did a lot fo’ her. She’s at rest now. Gone to join the angels with Gideon. He weren’t all bad, no matter what folks thought.”

“Take care of my son.” Kitty patted the precious bundle one more time. “I’m going to name him John Travis Wright—John after his grandfather, and Travis for his father, and he’ll bear my family name until his father returns to give him his rightful name.”

“Oh, yo’ daddy would like that, Miss Kitty. Pity he ain’t here to see his grandson. He’d of loved him just like you do. And when his daddy come home, he gonna be so proud—”

“Hugo, set the tray up for Miss Wright,” Corey interrupted, unable to listen to the conversation any longer. “She needs to start getting her strength back.”

“Yes, I have more responsibility than ever now,” she said, removing the cover of the tray to look down at the hot buttered grits and the slab of juicy fried ham. There were lard biscuits and homemade apple jelly, and a glass of milk. Her stomach rumbled. It had been quite a while since she’d had fare such as this. She looked at Corey appreciatively. “I do thank you. I want you to know that. And I won’t burden you any longer than necessary.”

“My dear, you will never be a burden.” He got to his feet, motioning to Dulcie and Hugo to take their leave. “If you want anything, anything at all, you have only to ask. My servants are at your command. My home is your home.”

He was almost to the door when she called out to him, almost reluctantly. He turned to meet the violet eyes. “Corey, what about Nancy? How does she feel about me being here? It’s none of my business, of course.” Her voice trailed off.

“My dear, Nancy no longer remains in this house. You need not to be worried about her ever again. I don’t intend to concern myself with her, so neither should you.”

He went out and closed the door behind him. Kitty ate ravenously, then lay back upon the pillows and stared up at the blue canopy over her head. She had never thought she would see the day she would be in Corey McRae’s house, but then she had not counted on being burned out of her own. She knew Jerome Danton was responsible, but how could she prove it? Who would believe her, despised as she was in this county?

“Oh, Travis, where are you?” she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. If only he would return. Together, they would rebuild, and Danton and his hooded cowards would not dare ride against them. Travis would stand up to him or anyone else who tried to intimidate them. And when he did return, he would take vengeance on all who had hurt her.

But where was he? It had been months. She would have to send word to General Sherman himself, beg him to find Travis and tell him he now had a son. That would bring him back, she was sure. She would write the letter as soon as she felt up to it, and she would give it to Dulcie.

For all Corey’s graciousness, there was still something sinister about him, something she did not trust. For the moment, she was forced to accept his hospitality. But she intended to remain on guard against whatever trickery he might have in mind.

She wanted to see her baby again. She wanted to hold him close and whisper to him how much she loved him. She had to tell him about his grandfather, and about his father. Where was the bell cord to ring for Dulcie? Dulcie would bring little John into her and let her hold him awhile longer. But she was so sleepy, so tired, and her eyes fluttered a few times, then gave way to the deep sleep of exhaustion.

Corey McRae stood outside the door, peeping through the crack, for it was not quite closed all the way. He had heard her anguished whispers, seen the fight and spirit in her beautiful eyes. It would be a real challenge, but he would win. It would take cunning and maneuvering, but by God, he was going to win. Kitty Wright would be his.

Chapter Sixteen

Kitty stood on the veranda that swept across the front of the mansion. The bare trees lining the circular driveway stood like naked sentinels against the cold, bitter wind, fiercely struggling to stand tall against the onslaught. The flat land was barren, stark, but when spring came, the land would burst with growth. There would be cotton and tobacco and corn. Corey McRae would make the plantation thrive.

Pulling her robe tighter, Kitty stared down the road until it disappeared over a slight rise. There was not a rider to be seen this morning. But then, few people would be moving about in the chill, especially on Christmas Day. That did not stop Kitty from hoping, and she stood watching and praying as she had every morning for the past ten days. Four of the days had been spent in bed, supposedly to regain her strength after the birth of the baby. She had felt fine and wanted to get up sooner, but neither Dulcie nor Corey would hear of it. So she had spent the time composing a letter to General Sherman, begging him to get in touch with Travis and tell him about the birth of his son. She had given the letter to Dulcie. And she had waited, praying for an answer.

Something must have happened to Travis. He would have returned otherwise. She could not make herself believe that he just did not love her and had mustered out of the service and gone on back to Louisiana. He would have come by one more time to try and talk her into going with him.

Where was he? Dear God, he had left Goldsboro the end of March, and here it was Christmas Day. Was he dead? Somehow, she would have known when his dear heart stopped beating. There would have been a sudden awakening in the middle of the night, or a cold shroud engulfing her during the day. Yes, she would have sensed it if Travis had died. He had to come back. He had to.