Promise Me Forever

by Janelle Taylor

Genres: Historical Romance

Synopsis

JANELLE TAYLOR. . . AUTHOR OF. . . FOLLOW THE WIND, FOREVER ECTASY, AND KISS OF THE NIGHT WIND, TRIUMPHS AGAIN WITH THIS SWEEPING TALE OF A BEAUTIFUL, INNOCENT WOMAN RACING AGAINST TIME TO SOLVE A CHILLING MYSTERY AND CLEAR HER NAME. AT HER SIDE IS A MAN WHO CAN NEITHER TRUST NOR RESIST HER. THEY ARE BOTH AFTER THE TRUTH-BUT FOR VERY DIFFERENT REASONS. PROMISE ME FOREVER. . . In 1875 Savannah, Rachel Fleming Barlow Newman McCandless is known to her neighbors as the Black Widow. Only twenty-one year old, she has been widowed three times, most recently by the death of Phillip McCandless whose last words to her-incoherent ramblings about an illegal arms shipment-have left her terrified as well as grief-stricken. Phillip's long-estranged brother Captain Daniel Slade, convinced that the "Black Widow" has struck again, pretends to be Phillip's business partner while he tries to uncover the truth about Rachel's apparently fatal charms. Rachel, of course, suspects the worst-that Daniel is behind Phillip's untimely death. But even that fear can't stop her from desiring the handsome stranger. She has married three times-for every reason except love. Only now is she discovering that losing her heart can be the greatest danger of all. . .

Release date: October 24, 2011

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 584

Sample

“You sure it’s legal to buries Mr. Phillip in secret, Miss Rachel? Mercy, this be the third husband you done laid to rest in less than three years. All that nasty tawk about you is bound to start all over again.”

“It can’t be helped, Lula Mae,” Rachel informed the housekeeper. “I don’t want trouble with the law or for more gossip to start and delay me before I can get away to take care of important business. This happened so fast. I need time to think and plan. You and Burke will have to keep silent until I figure out how to report this.”

“You going to sells them gun and bullets cumpnies, soaz you’ll have money to leaves here afore the law comes chasing you again? What abouts that shipping cumpny here?”

“I’m not going to get rid of any of them right now; I can’t, but I need to check over the two out-of-town companies immediately. I’ll tell Phillip’s three partners he’s away on business. I doubt they’ll become suspicious for a while. Later, I want to sell everything and leave Savannah. I can’t breathe anymore without creating gossip and dangerous suspicions.”

“How you gonna hide this under the covers that long?”

“If my claim he’s out of town doesn’t work, I don’t know yet. But I’ll find a way; I must!”

Lula Mae clucked her tongue like a mother hen. “I kin jest hears them mean tongues wagging ‘bout the Black Widder and her new prey. My bones are aquivering in fear. This time, Miss Rachel, they’ll arrest you for sure, even if they don’t find nary proof you be guilty.”

“I’ll check the house from bottom to top to make sure there isn’t any proof I caused Phillip’s death. The law didn’t find any evidence against me the other times, and they won’t find any this time. But before I get tangled up in another investigation, I need answers to some big questions. I have to go to Augusta and Athens to see George and Harry.”

“What questions you need be answered, Miss Rachel?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, my dear friend. When I get things settled, I’m gone from Savannah, probably from Georgia. Of course you’ll come with me, Lula Mae; I couldn’t do without you.” Rachel released a long, heavy sigh. She was so weary and scared. “The law has tried its damnedest to get me for three murders; I know how this fourth death will look to them and to the townfolk. This time they’ll be determined to slam a prison door behind me. I can’t make any mistakes, Lula Mae, so I’m going to handle this slowly and carefully.”

Lula Mae patted the young woman’s shoulder. “You was too smarts for ‘em those other times.”

“That isn’t how I would describe it, but clever wits help when you’re under attack. For certain, the minute this news is out, Earl Starger will be slithering around like the snake he is. That man could really harm me. He’s the one who needs killing. If he doesn’t leave me alone, I might oblige him,” Rachel murmured, too exhausted and dazed to be aware of how what she was saying might sound to another person. She needed to get away from here so she could think clearly and make plans. She prayed for her husband’s troubled soul and for herself. “Good-bye, Phillip. If you’d been more careful, this wouldn’t have happened. It was too soon for you to die.”

“Spring’s the most awfullest time to go adying.”

“No time is any better or worse than another, Lula Mae,” she responded, though the spring of 1875 looked as if it was going to be the hardest time of her life, if she survived it. “I’ll get back to the house. Burke will finish up here. He sent Jim and Henry on errands so they wouldn’t be involved in this. I don’t want them getting scared and making a slip to someone. Burke will make certain this grave isn’t noticeable.”

“Come along, Miss Rachel; I always takes good care of you after these things happen. You jest git weak as a kitten fresh from its ma when it’s over. Let’s git you in the house to rest up a spell whilst I tend my chores.”

Rachel Anne Fleming Barlow Newman McCandless followed the trusted housekeeper to the lovely Georgian house. At twenty-one, Rachel was alone again. She envisioned what loomed ahead. The Savannah authorities would be all over her and their home as soon as she released this shocking news. She would tell the truth, but would she be believed, when even she suspected there was more to Phillip’s sudden and painful death than the cholera she was blaming? She recalled his last words, the strange and frightening mutterings only she had heard. The smartest and safest thing for her to do was investigate what Phillip had told her before she went to the law.

At the front steps of the slate-blue wooden house with its rust-red trim, Rachel halted and instructed: “When Burke finishes with the burial, Lula Mae, bring him to me.”

None of the three people saw the man who watched their actions and listened to their words. The tall, black-haired figure remained concealed behind a large live oak. His blue eyes, as dark and stormy as a violent ocean, exposed the mixture of anguish and fury he was experiencing. What Dan had learned about this sinister woman since docking last night and what he had just witnessed raced through his mind as he formed a grim opinion of his brother’s wife. No, he corrected in bitterness, his brother’s widow.

When he and his first mate had visited a local tavern late last night, Dan hadn’t revealed who he was to the chatty bartender, a man who delighted in talking about the notorious and beautiful woman Phillip McCandless had married. He and his best friend had pretended they were sailors who were seeking work on Phillip’s ships and wanted to know everything about him before signing on with his Savannah firm. They had acted intrigued and appreciative.

Dan squeezed some facts from all the enlightening rumors: at eighteen, Rachel Fleming had come to town and wed a rich older man; a month later Barlow’s son died from a suspicious fall; two months later, her first husband was dead under curious circumstances. The police had investigated her as the cause of both deaths, but couldn’t prove the men had been murdered. Gossip had begun, and the townspeople started calling her the Black Widow. She had waited only two months before preying on a rich but young man, then buried him in four months, a result of another dubious fall. That incident had evoked a second investigation—a longer and more persistent one—and had induced more gossip. Still, the authorities failed to find enough evidence to even arrest her.

Following her second husband’s death, a local newspaper had carried a front-page article headlined “Beautiful Black Widow: She Mates and She Kills!” To protect itself from a lawsuit, it hadn’t used names or dates and had called the story a “fiction”; but everyone had known it referred to Rachel, and had believed it, including the bartender. The insidious vixen had then been cautious enough to sit in her golden web for a year before stalking her next victim. She had entangled his brother, who was dead now after spending eight months in her silky arms. Her motive for burying Phillip secretly escaped him, for she couldn’t claim her inheritance until she reported his death. All of her victims had been wealthy, and she was the only heir each time. Or so she believed. No one—including a desperate Phillip—knew for certain that Dan was still alive.

Dan wanted to storm the house to drag the treacherous female to the law. Yet something halted him from taking swift and rash action. This clever female had gotten away with killing two previous husbands and, if he didn’t handle this matter with cunning, she might get away with Phillip’s death. He couldn’t permit that outrage.

The hazy contents of Phillip’s last letter haunted him; it had been an urgent cry for help that had reached Dan too late. But he would see that justice was done. The information Rachel sought in Augusta and Athens must hold clues to her motives. Before he exposed this vixen’s foul deed, he wanted those answers, too, as evidence. He would return to town, take care of his cargo, seek more information about her, then come back later to meet his sister-in-law to study her for himself. This time, that little predator would pay, with or without the law’s help….

“You sure we should burn all the eveedence, Miss Rachel?” the housekeeper asked. “How you gonna prove your story then?”

Rachel glanced at Lula Mae and Burke. All three people were dressed in old clothes and gloves to prevent contact with the items they must handle. If they were contaminated with cholera as Phillip’s symptoms suggested, the disease could be spread by touch. “It has to be done for our protection, Lula Mae. I want everything Phillip touched last night and this morning burned or sterilized.”

“I opened every winder, but it won’t be doing much good until we git rid of this mess.” Lula Mae looked at the rumpled bed with its stained and smelly covers.

“Mr. Phillip shore wuz pow’ful sick las’ night,” Burke remarked. “Ah’ll see too it dese covers are burned good. We don’t wants no mo sickness here.”

Rachel met the black plantation manager’s woeful gaze and replied, “Yes he was, Burke. Maybe a doctor could have saved him. I feel guilty about how he suffered and the attention he needed and never received.”

“No, ma’am, he wuz too far gown down the heaven road, Miz Rachel. A man cain’t be called back onest he’s awalkin’ it with angels. Folk ‘round here gonna be pow’ful scared whenst they hears ‘bout dis sickness.”

“That’s why I want it handled quickly and quietly, Burke. We don’t want to create a panic. If only I’d known Phillip was ill last night, I would have done something for him.”

“No, ma’am, Miz Rachel. If’n you been in here whilst the fever wuz on him, you’d be ailin’ or be dead this mawnin’ yerself. Twernt nuttin’ you could do.”

She knew Burke Wells was right, but it hurt nonetheless. When she had come to him early this morning, Phillip had appeared still drunk. The room had smelled horrible. She had opened the curtains, lifted a window for light and fresh air, then gone to check him. Phillip had rubbed an aching belly as he mumbled wild and crazy things in a desperate rush to warn her about some imminent peril. Then he had seemed to lapse into unconsciousness. She had felt his brow to find him cold, not burning with the fever she’d expected, and his skin had looked withered in the faint dawn light. She had lit the lamp nearby to examine him closer. His drawn face had been a strange color and his pulse had been so weak she could barely find it. Before Rachel could summon Lula Mae to fetch a doctor, Phillip had roused for a short time, mumbled more dire warnings, then died while she stood there helpless and in shock.

Rachel eyed the bedside table where several whiskey bottles lay on their sides. “From the number of bottles he emptied, he was terribly thirsty,” she remarked. “Even drunk and ashamed, he should have called to me. He wanted to be left alone, so I obeyed. I shouldn’t have, because it was so unlike him to have behaved that way. I don’t know why he did this to himself. We have to burn these garments and gloves and scrub our bodies. We can’t risk spreading this disease or catching it.”

“Yessum, Miz Rachel, Ah un’erstan,” Burke agreed.

“I’ll starts water boiling and warsh them dishes. You wants me to throw out the food left over? It might be gone to the bad.”

“I don’t think tainted food was Phillip’s problem, Lula Mae, as you and I haven’t become ill after eating the same things, but, yes, do it just to be safe.”

“When me ‘n’ Mr. Phillip went fishin’ day afore yesterday, I seed him drinkin’ dirty water from dat river ‘hind us. I tol’ him black water wuz bad.”

Rachel knew cholera was said to come from eating contaminated food or from drinking contaminated water, but she didn’t think the contents of the Ogeechee River, which ran along the western boundary of the property, was the cause of Phillip’s death. “Many people drink and fish from the river, Burke. If there was a problem with its water, we would have heard about it. But it wouldn’t hurt to mention that to the law.”

“It’s gonna be most awful when they comes.”

“I know, but I’ll have to report it soon. Phillip’s gone, so it won’t matter if I wait a while before putting myself through another investigation. He insisted the business is urgent, so I’ll take care of that first. It’s certain the law won’t allow me to leave afterward.”

“Dat law shouldn’t be so bad to you, Miz Rachel.”

“We know I didn’t do anything wrong, Burke, but they won’t see it that way. You can bet your life they’ll give me trouble.”

“You have witnesses dis time, Miz Rachel. Dey cain’t hurt you.”

“They’ll only think you two are lying to protect me.”

Burke Wells looked offended that anyone would dare question his word and honor. His dark eyes sparkled with anger and his fingers stroked his black mustache. “Deys bedder not go amessin’ with me ‘n’ mah friends.”

“Thank you, Burke, but I don’t want you or Lula Mae getting into any trouble because of me. Just tell the truth, then it’s up to them to believe us or not.” She smiled as the strapping man mumbled under his breath about setting the law straight if they fooled with him and his loved ones.

Rachel and Burke stripped the linens from the bed, removed the feather mattress and pillows, and carried them outside to a clearing. They hauled several wash tubs there, then filled them from the well near the house so they would be prepared to battle any blaze that might sneak its way from the safe area. The black man tossed lantern oil on the pile and lit it. The empty whiskey bottles were broken and tossed into the roaring flames; later they would be buried after the fire killed any disease on them.

While the linens and bedding were being consumed and dark smoke rose skyward, Rachel asked, “Burke, did Phillip give you anything to hide for him in the last month or so?”

“No, ma’am, Miz Rachel, why’d you akst me dat?”

She trusted and liked the manager and housekeeper, but she didn’t want to draw either of them into this mystery. She offered a logical explanation, “Sometimes Phillip didn’t want to worry me about business problems, but if there are any and he’s hidden papers about them, I need to know, and now!”

“No, ma’am, Mr. Phillip didn’t gimme nuttin’ to hide for him.”

Rachel sighed in disappointment, which Burke mistook as exhaustion.

“Why don’ you git in the house and res’, Miz Rachel? Ah kin tend dis fire. Ah’ll holler if’n Ah needs help. You looks pow’ful tired.”

The blaze was under control, so the new widow thanked him and went to the house.

Lula Mae had opened all windows in the guest room and kept the door closed to prevent the stench from wafting through the rest of the two-story house. When Rachel joined her upstairs to help with the repulsive but necessary task, Lula Mae had finished her kitchen chores and had begun to mop up splatters. Any area Phillip might have touched where a smidgen of the dreaded disease might have been left behind had to be cleansed.

Rachel looked at the woman who was working so hard. “I’m sorry you have to help with this mess,” she said. “I can do it, if you mind.”

“I reckon I cleaned up worse messes in my life. When Mr. William or his son was sick, they ruint many a cover and floor. When I’m done, I’ll toss these rags on the burnin’ heap and bury this bad water. Won’t be no sickness left in this house when I’m finished. The air’s better a’ready.”

As Rachel went to work with hot soapy water on the bed’s woodwork, she murmured, “Why did this have to happen to me, Lula Mae? I’m not a bad person.”

“A body hasta takes what the Lord keeps on his or her head. Don’t let on it don’t hurt bad. A good cry never did a body no harm.”

Rachel halted to look at the woman whose sternlooking features made many think she was mean and cold. Today, concern and affection for Rachel seemed to soften them. Rachel knew Lula Mae to be one of the kindest people alive. The woman’s words and her own thoughts stirred up memories.

As Rachel scoured the bedside table for smeared fingerprints and drops of whiskey that had escaped the fallen bottles, she murmured, “I wish I could keep his death a secret forever and not go through all that again, but I can’t sell any of Phillip’s holdings without exposing his death. How can I just walk away and leave everything that is rightfully mine? How can I start over somewhere else without funds?” And if she tried to flee, what all would happen to her if those faceless and nameless “enemies” tracked her down?

“I hate to see more trouble coming up the road,” the woman said, “but do what needs doing. I’ll stand by you.”

She smiled. “You always have, Lula Mae, and I’m grateful.”

Rachel slipped into deep thought as they continued their work. For some inexplicable reason, her kind and gentle husband had gotten heavily inebriated following a visit from Harrison Clements, his business partner in Athens. She didn’t know what had transpired between the two men, but it had sent Phillip McCandless over the edge of a dark precipice. She wondered what Phillip’s strange mumblings meant. In slurred speech, he had talked about her life and all she owned being in danger, about enemies who could get to her anywhere and any time and who would stop at nothing to get what they wanted, and about her selling everything to repay a debt she didn’t know existed as it was the only way for her to stay alive and safe. What was the mysterious deal that she must honor, and where was the money she must return to its owner? And why was it hidden? She knew it had to do with guns and ammunition, with strange phrases like “you can’t go to the law,” and “you’ll be blamed.”

She didn’t want to be blamed for whatever was involved. She remembered the terrible incidents—“all those warnings came”—over the last weeks to which he must have been referring. She had assumed they were unrelated crimes: the ship that was burned and sank, the warehouse that was vandalized, the two seamen who were beaten, and the dockworker who was slain. “Don’t double cross Harry and….” Scary words from him.

What if Harry did something wicked to Phillip last night? Rachel wondered in fear. If it shows, I’ll be blamed, not him. The law would never believe me over him.

Whatever was going on, it was real and dangerous, as one worker was already dead. She couldn’t go to the authorities with a wild mystery and become entangled in it. If she didn’t solve it herself, she could be in even worse trouble than from a third investigation of husband killing and “Black Widow” gossip.

“That’s all, Miss Rachel,” Lula Mae announced. “I’ll takes these rags and burn ‘em. You git washed up and rest a spell. Supper’ll be ready on time.”

Rachel started to ask Lula Mae if the clues meant anything to her, but changed her mind. Some things were too personal or dangerous to confide in friends or employees.

Rachel didn’t know any other woman who had lost three husbands, not even as a result of the war with the North. Yes, she reasoned, cholera did run its lethal course in a matter of hours to a few days, and death resulted from massive and swift loss of body fluids. But arsenic had the same effect as the symptoms Phillip had displayed. She knew about diseases and poisons, because she had lived on a plantation nearly all of her life where accidents and illness were commonplace and where items with deadly ingredients were used—both facts the law and townfolk knew, and had tried to use against her when William died.

Rachel glanced around the spotless room. Phillip was gone, forever. She couldn’t believe it, even though she had helped wrap his body in clean sheets and hauled it to the site where Burke had dug a secret grave. She felt guilty over not washing and dressing him for a proper interment, but none of them had wanted to touch anything that might be infected by the cholera. Phillip didn’t even lie in a coffin; his grave wasn’t marked and he hadn’t been given a service. None of that could be helped, she told herself, then closed the door to keep from looking into the room again.

Rachel’s mind was in turmoil as she bathed and dressed. She had not wept over her husband’s death because she was so angry with him. She was afraid of what loomed before her because of both his loss and the mystery he had mentioned for the first time on his deathbed. Phillip had been the one man she felt she could trust, the man who had taken away her wariness of all men; now, her faith in him was shaken. He had deceived her, endangered her, and deserted her. Yes, she fretted, she had a right to be angry and bitter.

As Rachel brushed her dark-brown hair, her thoughts returned to the path that had brought her to this point in her life. She had not had good luck with men. From the day the lecherous Earl Starger had entered her life, most had proven themselves untrustworthy and selfish.

Rachel dismissed Earl from mind. Maybe, she speculated, the war had brought forth the animal instinct in men: survival at any cost and take anything you desire to prove you’re the strongest. She wasn’t certain what had happened to men, but she knew her father and brothers and male friends had not been this way years ago. Some day in the far future when all of this was years behind her, hopefully she would findRachel’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door. She opened it. Lula Mae stood there, looking hesitant. “Is something wrong?” Rachel asked.

“You have cumpny. It’s a man, a stranger, who wants to see Mr. Phillip. You wants me to send him away?”

Rachel released an annoyed sigh. She didn’t want to be disturbed tonight, or have to begin her false tale on this horrible day before her mind cleared. “A stranger?” She repeated Lula Mae’s words.

“Yes. He says he has important business with Mr. Phillip.”

“Business?” She came to alert and her heart drummed in trepidation.

“Yes, Miss Rachel. What must I do?”

She witnessed the housekeeper’s worried look. “Tell him I’ll be down shortly. We don’t want anyone getting suspicious. I’ll speak with him.”

“Should I serve coffee or spirits?”

Southern hospitality was expected, so she said, “Coffee will be fine.”

The older woman nodded and left.

Rachel checked her appearance in the mirror. She summoned her wits and courage, then went to face her first challenge since Phillip’s death. As she walked along the lengthy hallway toward the stranger, she saw that Lula Mae had left him standing in the entry hall, no doubt with hopes of her mistress sending him on his way fast. Rachel noticed how his size and presence seemed to fill the doorway and how they pulled one’s full attention to him.

She halted her approach with a few steps left between them to prevent having to strain her neck to look into his face. Her gaze met his as she said, “I’m Rachel McCandless, Phillip’s wife. How may I help you, sir?”

Dan had met beautiful women before, but this one possessed even more allure than he had noticed from a distance this morning. He wondered why she had chosen Phillip as her third victim. Surely there were plenty of men in town with more wealth. To begin his own ruse, he extended his hand and said, “My name is Captain Daniel Slade, Mrs. McCandless. I’m here to see Phillip. Will he be down shortly?”

Rachel accepted his strong hand and shook it, noticing how he stared at her. She forced a polite smile to her lips and replied in a serene tone, “I’m sorry, Captain Slade, but my husband is out of town. I don’t expect his return for many weeks. May I be of service? I take care of business matters whenever he’s away.”

Dan feigned surprise and displeasure. “I don’t understand. Phillip was expecting me. Is he in Athens or Augusta? May I join him there?”

Rachel tensed, but kept control of her expression and voice. “I’m afraid not. He’s in Baltimore to check on several new investments. I don’t anticipate his return until the end of April or middle of May.”

To dupe her, Dan gave a heavy sigh and frowned. “That’s too long to wait. Where can I reach him? My business is pressing.”

Her anxiety mounted in fear of this handsome stranger causing trouble for her before she could leave home. Yet she retained her poise, a skill she had learned over the years when people were cruel to her. “I’m afraid I can’t help you there, either. Phillip said he’d be moving around and he’d contact me, but he hasn’t done so yet. What is the problem? Perhaps I can handle it, or tell you who can help solve the matter.”

Dan watched and listened for clues to her personality and character. She seemed at ease, as if she were telling the truth. Nothing in her mood, expression, speech, or manner exposed her as a new widow—his brother’s widow and Phillip’s murderess. He put aside his grief to carry out his task. “The business is between me and Phillip. He offered an old friend a good deal on an arms and ammunition contract. I wrote him of my acceptance and arrival date. I don’t understand why he left, knowing of my imminent arrival. My ship docked tonight, and I came straight here with the money.”

Rachel glanced at a large carpetbag on the floor. “Money? For a weapons and ammunition deal?” Suspicion filled her.

Dan perceived a curious reaction to his false claim, but it seemed a logical fabrication. He thought fear and panic had registered in those odd-colored eyes before she hurriedly composed herself. Her response was strange and unexpected. He nodded as his reply.

“Why don’t we sit while we talk?” she invited, motioning toward the formal parlor. She needed time to think and to recover her wits. As they entered the spacious room, she indicated for him to be seated on a floral sofa and she took the matching chair across from it. The positions allowed her to study him while conversing. “Special orders usually go through Harry in Athens, not through Phillip here. What was it for, a custom-made weapon and special-size ammunition?” she questioned, even though she had caught that the mentioned items were plural.

To make the alleged deal sound important, Dan corrected, “No, for three thousand rifles and enough ammunition for each one to last for months of fighting. There’s a conflict raging in the Mediterranean area, and I agreed to buy and deliver needed arms.”

Rachel decided she must lead him on to learn all she could about him and his curious business. “Isn’t such a deal illegal?” she asked.

Dan looked surprised, then grinned. “Stars, no. The Americans are assisting the battle against Turkey, though not publicly, of course. Guns and ammunition are needed badly there. I’m a private shipper who will deliver them for a tidy profit. Phillip said he could arrange the order for me. Why would you think your husband would become involved in something illegal?”

Rachel eyed him intently as Phillip’s warnings about “war, freedom, and need guns badly” echoed through her mind. But there were contradictions: the money “must return” and “hidden” did not match with the captain bringing along his payment, and “Cuba” was a long way from Turkey. Contradictions, yes, if Daniel Slade was telling the truth. “I didn’t say I thought Phillip would do anything illegal,” she said, “But it isn’t past evil and greedy men to lie and cheat or kill to get what they want. Are you sure the shipment will go into the hands of the right side?”

Dan was cognizant of her quick intelligence. “Since I’ll be delivering them into American hands, I presume so, unless our country is wrong to interfere. I don’t get involved in politics, local or foreign. But I do try to sail on the right side of the law.” He grinned again. “Of course, some things are never what they appear. I’ll head to Augusta and Athens. Maybe his partners know about our arrangement and have my order ready for transportation to Savannah. Harrison Clements in Athens, isn’t it?”

Rachel smiled and thanked Lula Mae as the housekeeper served the coffee. Both added sugar to their cups, but neither took milk. She waited until Lula Mae returned to the kitchen before continuing the conversation.

The use of Harry’s name instead of George’s or that of both men seized her interest. A daring plan came to mind. “Yes, it is. If you can wait until Monday morning, Captain Slade, I’ll be leaving by train for both companies. Phillip asked me to take care of business there during his absence. Please feel free to come along with me. I want to learn if Harry knows about this curious deal of yours that Phillip didn’t mention to me, and I also want to make certain it isn’t detrimental to our firm. I wouldn’t want Phillip misused by an ‘old and trusted friend.’”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. McCandless; I would never do anything to harm Phillip or his businesses. And I wouldn’t do anything, even for a lot of money, to get myself thrown into a boiling sea of trouble. I’d be delighted to ride along with you. I appreciate the assistance, and the lovely company. Phillip is a lucky man to have a wife with such beauty, charm, and wits.”

“Did you know my husband well?” she asked, unaware she used the past tense, as Captain Daniel Slade was distracting and disarming. She sipped the sweetened black coffee as she observed her guest.

Dan caught Rachel’s slip, but didn’t point it out. As he summoned the best response, he sipped his coffee to conceal the slowness of an answer. Her appeal was potentially dangerous. Her unblemished skin was an olive gold, her features small and perfect. She looked delicate and angelic, though he knew she wasn’t. Her brows and lashes were the deepest shade of brown before it became black, as were the silky cascading waves of her hair that flowed over her shoulders. Her eyes were a fusion of pale yellowy brown with just a hint of grayish green, encased by a dark-brown band. She was clad in a simple day dress in a hue of grayish green that almost enticed her hypnotic eyes to reflect the color of it, but fell short of victory. Her gaze possessed strange power and magic. He was astounded and vexed she could sit there so serene and poised after what she had done today. She seemed the perfect reflection of a genteel lady! He placed an empty cup on the table and replied, “A long time ago, Phillip and I knew each other well and were very close. I’m looking forward to seeing him again. We’ll have plenty to talk about.”

“You were close friends?” she probed after witnessing a curious look of affection and fond remembrance in his seawater-blue gaze.

Dan assumed she would be less doubtful of him if she believed they were close friends, not just business acquaintances. “Yes, years ago in Charleston. That’s where we’re both from. You knew that, didn’t you?” he inquired to test her knowledge of Phillip’s past.

“I knew Phillip was from Charleston, but he didn’t talk much about his life there. With his family dead, it seemed to pain him too much to speak of the past. But I’m surprised he never mentioned such a close friend.”

Dan again caught her use of the past tense. “I left Charleston in ‘71,” he said truthfully, “and haven’t seen him since. He contacted me through the mail. He seemed eager to make our deal. It must have been something urgent and unexpected to call him away like this.”

Both were silent as Rachel rose to refill Dan’s cup. She added two spoons of sugar as she’d seen him do earlier, then she replaced the silver pot on the matching tray, took her seat, and straightened her skirt. She retrieved her cup and sipped her coffee, as if waiting for him to go on.

As she served him, Dan concluded she didn’t know anything about him, which was logical since Phillip had been told he was long dead. Fortunately, she couldn’t cull anything from their appearances, as Phillip had favored their father and he favored their mother. His parents… But that was his tormented past. Right now, he had to deal with a painful present. He had to use every skill he possessed to weave a web of his own around this lethal beauty. She would never get away with murdering his brother.

Rachel observed Dan as he drank his coffee and seemed to slip into the past. She noted the conflicting array of emotions that flickered in his stormy blue eyes. She perceived an aura of mystery, a hint of tragedy, and troubling secrets in his personal life. It was easy to recognize those feelings which matched hers. She was baffled by how such a strong male could feel, and suffer, so deeply. It drew her to him, despite her previous warning to stay wary of this potent stranger, this possible enemy. Perhaps she was too tired and distressed to think clearly.

She reflected on Phillip’s dying words: “He’ll come soon and help me.” Dan could be an old and trusted friend. If not, he might offer clues to the perilous mystery. In hopes of making light of the strained moment and contradictory emotions tugging at her, Rachel remarked in a skeptical tone, “I don’t recall any correspondence to or from you, Captain Slade. If you and Phillip were so close and he was looking forward to your visit and to renewing your old friendship, why didn’t he mention you to me?”

“Call me Dan, please. We’ll be traveling together soon, and I hope we will also become good friends. As for Phillip’s… secrecy, if that’s what it was, I can’t explain it. Knowing him, he probably wanted us to meet before he related past tales of our….” He paused intentionally, chuckled, then finished, “Our devilish misadventures. We grew up together, so we have a long and colorful past.”

Rachel wished she could relax her stiff guard and strained nerves. Her emotions advised her not to suspect this charming man of evil and treachery. Since Phillip was in the arms business, it was natural to have more than one deal in the works. Daniel Slade’s arrival and contract must be coincidental. Yet her survival instincts warned her to stay alert and wary in case she was misjudging him and being duped. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had fooled her.

“Something I said annoy you, Mrs. McCandless?” he asked when she frowned, then looked angry.

Rachel calmed herself again and smiled. “No, my mind just drifted for a moment. To an unpleasant topic, I fear. Pardon my lapse in manners. It’s been a diffi—” She halted and flushed. Don’t relax, Rachel. “It’s always strange if Phillip’s away and business problems arise. I’m nervous about making a wrong and costly mistake.”

Dan saw how her eyes and smile could cause a man to forget all else if he weren’t careful. But there was an aura of wariness around her that kept him on guard. “I can’t imagine a smart woman like you ever making a mistake. If you weren’t married to an old and dear friend, I’d be tempted to…” He let his words trail off suggestively, then put on an expression of near embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Rachel,…” He switched to use of her first name in a husky tone meant to ensnare her interest. Women had told him he was handsome and charming. He had never used his appeal as weapons before today, but he must do and use any ploy necessary to entrap his brother’s killer. Rachel Fleming had an abundance of similar traits and she had used them in sinister ways. “Pardon my lapse in manners, too. It’s not that I’ve been at sea too long or don’t have self-control where friends’ possessions are concerned, but you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve met and I…behaved badly for a moment. It won’t happen again, so please don’t be nervous around me.”

As he smiled, Rachel saw bright white teeth amid a darkly tanned face with handsome features. His wide smile seemed to make his face glow and his dark-blue eyes sparkle with boyish mischief. There was a power, a magic, an energy that permeated the air around him. His movements were fluid and effortless. He had manners, excellent breeding, and education. He was masculine and self-assured, but not arrogant—not that she had detected so far, at least.

She had buried her third husband this morning, so how could a stranger have such a stirring effect on her this soon? Because Phillip’s death seemed unreal, her mind answered, and because this sea captain stole nearly all her sense of reality. Be wary of him, Rachel. “You’re forgiven, Captain Slade, and thank you for the compliment. I can tell you’re a southern gentleman, so I’m not worried about spending time with you.” After he encouraged her to call him Dan again, she asked, “When did you arrive? And where are you staying?”

It took Dan a few moments to respond, as he was lost in the swirling depths of her eyes. They seemed to possess the power to penetrate his very flesh. If only she were genuine… But she wasn’t. It riled him to realize how looking into that exquisite face made him feel warm and tingly. If he didn’t know better, he couldn’t imagine this vital creature as a cold-blooded murderess.

Dan lazed against the back of the sofa and lied. “I just docked and came straight here.” He motioned to the carpetbag. “I brought along my things because Phillip invited me to stay with him. Since he’s gone, I’ll return to my cabin on the ship and wait there until we leave.”

Rachel needed privacy to search for clues and that hidden money. Since he had docked tonight and was a stranger, hopefully he wouldn’t hear the malicious rumors this weekend and form a false opinion of her. “I’m sure Phillip would expect me to extend our hospitality to his old friend, but I don’t think it’s proper for you to stay here with him gone. Gossip can be a vicious and destructive thing. We can meet after breakfast on Monday at the Central depot on Broad Street, about eight-thirty. Buy a ticket to Augusta. After we finish there, we can continue on to Athens.”

“That’s perfect. Thank you, Rachel, for your help. I’ll leave my first mate in charge of my ship and crew. I’ll see you at the train station. I don’t think we should mention our trip together to anyone,” Dan suggested as he stood to leave. “As you said, we don’t want to inspire naughty gossip. Phillip would never forgive even a good friend for sullying his wife’s name. We’ll talk again on the train.”

Rachel liked that precaution. She smiled. “Thank you, Dan. I appreciate your kindness and understanding. I’ll see you to the door.”

Dan lifted his bag and followed her. He felt her eyes on him as he mounted a rented horse and rode into the encompassing darkness. He turned to see her close the door, then he halted. He would never fall prey to her powerful charms, but it was easy to understand how she had woven her webs and lured her victims into them before they realized what was happening.

Don’t worry, Phillip; she won’t get away with killing you, Dan vowed silently. Damn you, Black Fate, for not getting me here in time to save my brother’s life! I needed to see you, big brother; it was too long. Now you and Father are both gone before the past could be settled. He died hating me and mistrusting me, but you, Phillip, desperately sent for me in your hour of need. I failed you again, and I’m sorry.

He dismounted, deep in thought. I never wanted to be involved with lies and tricks again; they’re too damn expensive. But I’ll carry off my ruse, even if I have to lure that little enchantress into marriage myself to expose her. No matter how long it takes, I’ll complete this task before I return to the sea. I swear that on your grave, Phillip, and you know I always keep my word.

Dan glanced toward the area of large live oaks where his brother lay without a coffin and denied a headstone and burial service. The patches of visible soil were a dull grayish brown. Spanish moss hung from the massive trees and appeared a ghostly gray in the light of a full moon. Shadows danced on the ground as a breeze stirred the “old man’s beards” and silent spring leaves. The croaking of frogs reminded him there was a river, the Ogeechee, not far away where murky water flowed between banks where tree roots were exposed and swampy vegetation and mossladen cypress grew. He heard crickets singing and caught the lonely calls of an unknown bird in search of something in the night.

The heavy-hearted man looked toward the direction of the river, westward from the house. That was how he had sneaked up on the secret burial this morning. He had rented a horse from a town livery, ridden to his brother’s property, then dismounted before reaching the house. He had secured the animal’s reins to a bush, then walked near the river as he moved closer to the lovely setting. He had wanted to slip up to the house without notice, to surprise Phillip, to be able to see the first expression on his brother’s face at close range. Instead, he had spotted a husky black man, a plain older white woman, and a breathtaking young creature hauling a sheet-wrapped body toward an area of dense trees, then lowering it into the earth beside a freshly dug mound of sandy dirt. He had frozen in midstep, concealed himself, and spied on them.

He hadn’t noticed anyone but those three around, and his heart had begun to pound. He had slipped from large tree to large tree without being discovered. But he had heard them, heard enough to pain his heart and infuriate his mind and demand vengeance.

When he docked in Charleston a few days earlier, he learned his father was dead, and his brother had moved to Savannah and was in deep trouble. “I may be killed if I don’t do what they want,” he had written to Dan.

They? Why didn’t you put more facts in your hazy letter, Phillip? If I don’t keep your death a secret for now, I’ll never learn the truth. I have to know why and how you died. Hear me, big brother, I’ll do it or die trying.

A chill crept over Dan’s flesh at that intimidating thought. He stared at the lovely house and shook his head. No, my little beauty, you won’t murder me, too. I’ll be camped nearby and watching every move you make until we leave. Take one false step tonight or tomorrow, and I’ll get you for sure.

“That’s all for tonight, Lula Mae,” Rachel said. “Thank you for everything you’ve done today. Get to bed and rest. I’m sure you’re as exhausted as I am.”

“I knows you be bad off, Miss Rachel, but you forget your troubles and sleeps tight now. I left you a biscuit with fried ham in the server. You didn’t eat enough for a biddy. If you needs anything, you holler for me.”

“I will, but don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” “What did that stranger wants with Mr. Phillip?” Rachel refused to draw the loyal woman into her troubles. “Just business. I handled it and sent him away. It’s all right.”

The older woman looked as if she wanted to press for more information, but she merely bid her mistress good night and left the room.

Rachel followed her to the back door. She watched the housekeeper move across the raised walkway to another matching structure that held the kitchen in the front and Lula Mae’s quarters to the rear. On either side was a set of steps. To the left, a cobblestone path headed to the privy; at one point, it took a turn to the smokehouse, and at another veered off around the smaller building to the back gate. To the right, another walkway led to the well beneath a conical roof and separated to continue to a garden gate in one direction and to the wash shed in the other. Beyond the wooden fence to the rear of the home were a carriage house, stable, and corral. All structures were painted in slate blue with rust-red trim to form a picturesque sight.

Rachel closed the door and leaned against it. The Georgian house was lovely and comfortable. The hall where she stood traveled the width of the house, but a striking archway separated the span into two entry areas. All the interior doors, windows, moldings, panels, and fireplaces were painted a slate blue. The plaster walls were tinted off-white, and the floors were shiny brown wood with small rugs in strategic spots. The entire decor of the house was meant to evoke feelings of happiness, security, and beauty. But Rachel felt none of those things tonight.

She doused the lamps, returned to the back entry, and climbed the steps. As she went down the hallway toward the front of the house, she didn’t even glance at the other rooms before she entered the bedroom she had shared with Phillip. She shut the door, needing to seal herself in a private and protective setting. So far from town and on a large plantation, she had never worried about peeping eyes and unwelcome intrusions during the night, so she didn’t draw the drapes. She removed her garments and slipped on a nightgown.

As she brushed her long tresses, she looked into the mirror above her dressing table. The gown had been a gift from Phillip on her twenty-first birthday last February. She had laughed and told him the bloodred provocatively cut garment in Chinese silk was shameful and risqué, but it was the most comfortable one she owned. It clung to her body as if made to her measurements, and the material felt sensuous—almost delightfully wicked—against her olive-toned flesh. Phillip had loved it, and had paid a hefty price to get it. Maybe that was why she wanted to wear it tonight, to make her think of happier times and tender moments. She didn’t want to remember him in the same light in which she recalled Craig Newman, but his betrayal caused those feelings to assail her nonetheless. Phillip had made her feel loved, trusted, and safe; so why had he deceived her in the end?

The bedroom suddenly felt stuffy, almost suffocating; she needed fresh air. Rachel entered the hallway and walked onto the wide porch which ran the full length of the house and matched the one below it. She leaned against a sturdy corner post.

Rachel stared at the full moon and wished it were bright and warm sunlight shining on her chilled body. The evening was not cold, or even very cool, but strange goosebumps covered her bare arms and raced along her body. She had the eerie sensation of being watched, but sighted no one in the shadows beyond the fence-enclosed yard. She told herself she was being foolish, that it was the events of today that had her on edge. Still, unable to shake the uncomfortable feeling, she returned to her room.

Phillip’s belongings were everywhere to remind her of his past existence. Soon she must pack up or give them away, perhaps to Burke Wells and the other two workers. They only had four employees, as they didn’t farm the land themselves; they used the sharecropper system.

Rachel had loved this plantation and house, and it had been a good home for her and Philip. But it didn’t feel the same after today; it was… distant and cold. She felt a stranger in her bedroom, an unwelcome guest. When matters were settled, she must sell Moss Haven and leave. She had no one in Savannah to entice her to remain, as Lula Mae could go with her. She could never return home to White Cloud—the Fleming cotton plantation between Savannah and Augusta. But, she worried, where could she move to and what would she do when this was over? She didn’t have answers yet.

Get to bed, she instructed herself silently. You have a lot to do before you leave town. And you aren’t guilty, so don’t be forced to live like you are.

Dan stood in the shadows beyond the house, still staring at the upper porch. He couldn’t believe what he had seen—the scantily attired creature in that fiery red, seductive nightgown. He knew he hadn’t been seen, but the apprehensive woman had been nervous about something; perhaps she had sensed his powerful gaze as he gawked at her. Yes, gawked, he admitted with displeasure. Stars above, she was ravishing in that seductive outfit with near-black hair tumbling around her shoulders! The moonlight had played over her olive skin like a lover’s caress. At around five four and probably one hundred ten pounds or so, she was quite slender, but possessed a shapely body that made a man’s hands itch to stroke it. Her lips—the full lower one and the heart-shaped. . .