Ashes in the Wind (74 page)

“We have them all now, eh?” Jacques boasted with a triumphant laugh as he turned to her.

Tamara strolled past the cell. “Things have worked out for us very well indeed. I thought we had lost our chance when the good doctor found his
way out of the river and came back to haunt us. But we’ve got him again, just where we want him. And this time, there’ll be no one saving him.”

Cole rose to his feet and canted his head as he contemplated the woman carefully. “You were the ones who had me thrown into the river in New Orleans?”

Tamara’s brows lifted briefly as she gave a tiny shrug. “Killing two birds with one stone, more or less. When it was found out that you were in New Orleans, after I received word of your father’s death, it seemed an opportunity that I could not pass up. And your uniform provided a way into the hospital so we could release the prisoners, a ploy we had used to ruin Alaina MacGaren’s name. We did so want that property of hers, and we might have had it, had the Yankees taken Shreveport when they should have.”

Everything was going too fast for Cole to digest reasonably. He was openly confused as he asked, “You were informed of my father’s death? Why would you have been interested in him?”

“Cole—” Alaina’s voice came from behind him, but Tamara cut her short.

“Nevermind, Mrs. Latimer. I’ll tell him myself.”

“Tell me what?” Cole demanded, half turning to glance inquiringly at his wife.

“You don’t remember me, Cole.” Tamara drew his attention back with the statement. “You were so young, and that was such a long time ago, though as you can see I’ve aged very little.”

Cole grew even more perplexed. “Should I know you?”

“Well, as I said it’s been such a long time you may not remember your stepmother.”

“Tamara?” He blurted the name out in surprise.

She inclined her head slightly. “Of course.”

“And you’re in with this pack of blackguards?” Cole asked incredulously. His hand shot out angrily toward Jacques. “With this good-for-nothing bastard?”

Tamara raised her head aloofly. “He is my son.”

Alaina gaped at Jacques, while Cole gave a derisive snort. “Not any kin to me, I hope.”

“No kin at all!” Jacques answered sharply.

“Now, Jack—” Tamara sought to soothe him for the coming revelation. “You just—”

Jacques’s dark eyes flashed fire. “The name is Jacques,
m’mère
. I would be pleased if you would use it.”

Tamara waved a hand aloft in a gesture of impatience. “Oh, Jack, you’re getting worse than Harry about that!”

“Henré!” Jacques was even more incensed. “Henré DuBonné!
Ma père
! Henré DuBonné!”

Tamara’s eyes sparked with an ire of her own. “Harry never sired a brat in his life.”

Jacques drew himself up in outraged disbelief. “You don’t mean that I—and he—” He turned a horrified look of disgust on Cole who returned the compliment.

“Half brothers.” Tamara cleared the matter of relationship bluntly. “Same father, different mothers.”

“Aaaahh!” Jacques threw up his hands in roweling dissatisfaction. He glared at Tamara. “Why did you let me believe all these years that Henré was my father?”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, unruffled by his irritation. “There was no sense in telling you while Frederick was alive. He would never have
claimed you. He wouldn’t have believed me, or you. Why, you don’t even remotely resemble Frederick. It was my side of the family you took after. So, I knew it would only lead to your frustration, having the knowledge you were his son and not being able to convince him. It was simpler this way, and you’ll have the Latimer fortune through the child.”

Jacques mumbled, not totally appeased. “I should have suspected something was amiss when you ordered the
monsieur docteu
r thrown into the river.”

“It’s better this way. Believe me, Jacques,” Tamara assured him. “We’ll have the Latimer wealth and all that belongs to them through the child. And you can do as you like with her mother. She’s in your hands.”

“Like hell she is!” Cole barked. “At least, not while I’m alive!”

Somewhat pacified with the idea of having Alaina after all these many months of wanting her, and desiring revenge, Jacques laughed derisively. “That,
monsieur docteur
, will be remedied shortly. She’ll be mine, and you’ll be dead.” His dark eyes found the wide gray ones upon him, and he gave Alaina a brief nod as he promised, “I’ll have you before this day is out. Rest assured,
ma chérie.
”

As Alaina fumbled with shaking fingers at her bodice, trying to close it beneath the covering of the blanket, Jacques turned to Tamara with another matter. “You’d better get the men started if they’re to catch the riverboat downstream at the bend. It’s carrying some valuable cargo that I would hate to lose, and we’re getting more orders now than we can fill. The more we seize and the more we sell, the richer we’ll be,
m’mère.”

“We’d better keep a couple of men around just to insure that big fellow doesn’t do anything foolish?” Tamara suggested, inclining her head toward Saul.”

“Do so,” Jacques stated shortly. “Gunn can stay too, but get the rest started. They’ll have a ways to go before they reach the bend, and they’ll have to get into position before the riverboat comes around it. Our men on board will be expecting their attack.”

The woman left to see to his bidding, and Jacques turned upon the occupants of the cell with a look of amused condescension. But his smile faded somewhat when Cole again took a place beside Alaina and pulled her close against his side. It seemed a direct challenge.

Jacques jerked on his glove with a sneer. “You’ll have a little time together before I return for her. Duties have a way of pressing in on a man at inopportune times. But rest assured, before I return, I’ll have found a place where she and I can have a bit of privacy.”

As the man passed from sight, his laughter floated back to them, and Alaina clung desperately to her husband while Cole whispered soft words of comfort in an effort to calm her trembling.

Saul shook his head in worried apology. “Mistah Cole, I sho’ is sorry ’bout being taken. Dey was waitin’ for me.”

“Where’s Olie?” Cole whispered.

“He was right behind me, but ah guess he musta heard de commotion when dey took me, and decided not to come through de do’. Or maybe he’s gone back fo’ more help.”

“You see, Alaina?” Cole breathed against her ear. “There’s still hope.”

“Oh, Cole,” she wept against his shirtfront. “I just couldn’t go on living if anything happened to you.”

“Hush now, my darling,” he soothed, caressing her soft hair. “Be brave. I assure you it is my last intention to let these miscreants carry out their plans for us.”

Cole glanced around as heavy footsteps intruded upon the silence of the hall. Gunn came into view, carrying a gleaming, brass bound Winchester in his hand. His upper torso was bare, except for a brocade vest which was several sizes too small for him. It was this that sharply tweaked Cole’s memory. A bright red patch replaced the piece that had been torn from it, a piece that Cole had often handled in museful contemplation when he tried to decipher everything that he had heard that night at Briar Hill before its burning. The murderer of Lt. Cox had worn the vest then, but he had been a much smaller man than Gunn. However, Jacques was just about the right size.

Gunn halted before the cell and stood, tipping his head from side to side as he perused Saul. He laid the rifle down well away from them and hunkered down before the black who sat half facing the gate. Saul turned as his shoulder was tapped.

“You big man!” Gunn bobbed his head in self-agreement. “Big like Gunn.” He thumped his fist against his chest, then reached through the bars to tap Saul’s foot. Holding his hands up, he spread the fingers wide. “This many take you.” He dropped one finger until there were nine. “This many, maybe not.”

Gunn rose to his feet and looked Saul over ponderingly, as if he debated with himself over
some issue. He suddenly grasped the heavy irons of the gate, and the tendons in his bare arms corded and popped as he heaved, trying to tear the bars apart. Satisfied that he could not, he stood back and gestured to the other.

“Gunn not break. Saul try!”

Readily enough, Saul grasped the gate in the same spot and gave it his best attempt. But to no avail. When he gave up and moved back, Gunn laughed heartily and strode out of sight once again, content that the prisoners would remain in their cell.

The sun had set by the time Jacques returned. Alaina had all but yielded hope that Olie would arrive with help in time to save them from the villains, and while Gunn lounged in the shadows, keeping an unconcerned eye upon them, she could not try her hand, as Roberta had done, at picking the lock, even if some implement had been available for her to use.

Behind Jacques, two men and Gunn strode forward, leveling the bores of their Winchesters directly at the occupants. Cole and Alaina tensed in sudden worry, and Saul scrambled quickly to his feet, for he too saw the imminent threat of bloodshed.

Tamara passed through the midst of the large-bodied men and came to unlock the cell, while Jacques stood back and watched with a twisted smirk of a smile. Tamara gestured to Alaina. “Bring the baby here.”

Alaina clutched Glynis to her with such fervor that the child awakened and began to mewl softly. The mother’s heated glare conveyed her answer.

Tamara stepped back and directed Gunn. “If Mrs. Latimer doesn’t do exactly as I say, shoot him.”
She inclined her head toward Cole. “Just in the legs first. We don’t want to lose him too quickly.” Tamara paused for a moment, then she added almost as an afterthought, “And if Doctor Latimer makes a wrong move, shoot the girl. Same goes for the black. Shoot the girl.”

She saw the sheer hatred in Alaina’s gaze and assured her tersely. “As you see, my dear, you’re all dispensible. I only want the babe, and if there’s one of you whom you needn’t be concerned about, it’s her. Now bring her here.”

Alaina slowly complied and though her lips trembled with suppressed rebellion, she laid Glynis in the waiting arms. After locking the gate, the woman retreated a short distance away, then Jacques strolled leisurely forward.

“She has what she wants.” He jerked his head toward his mother. “Now, I will take what I want.”

Alaina stumbled back to Cole, reading that meaningful leer in the man’s visage.

“Same rules apply,
ma chérie
,” he smiled smugly. “You can have your husband shot by disobeying me.”

“You can go to hell,” Cole retorted. “I’m not about to give her over into your hands. You’ll have to shoot me first.”

Jacques shrugged. “Then I suggest, my dear Alaina, that you have your black hold him—if you want your husband to last out the night. I’ll see him shot and the black with him, if you do not step out of your own accord.”

A bitter, wretched sob attested to the turmoil Alaina found herself in. She knew full well that
Jacques would do exactly as he threatened. The rifles were trained almost hungrily on the pair of men who occupied the cell, just waiting for a wrong move. If bending to Jacques’s will would allow Cole one more day of life, she thought then it was worth giving herself. After all, if he had a few more hours to live, he might escape entirely.

Tremblingly she pushed herself from Cole, but when he attempted to draw her back, she avoided his grasp, spinning away from him, and threw herself behind the black.

“Hold him, Saul!” she cried through her tears. “If you don’t want to see him killed, hold him! For God’s sake, hold him!”

Suddenly Cole found his arms seized by the black, and though he struggled violently, he was locked in the embrace of steel.

“Sorry, Mistah Cole.” Saul was put through an agony of his own, and he found little favor in what he had to do. “Miz Alaina say hold, and I gots to.”

Jacques motioned Alaina forward as he opened the gate. “Now, come with me, Mrs. Latimer.”

“No!” Cole roared, twisting and frenziedly trying to escape Saul’s grasp. “I’ll kill you if you lay a hand on her, Jacques! By God, I swear it!”

Seeing her husband through a blur of tears, Alaina meekly obeyed Jacques, though Cole’s bellow filled the cavern.

“Alaina! Don’t!”

The gate was closed behind her, and the key was turned with grating finality. Saul released his prisoner, and Cole threw himself upon the door, grabbing the iron bars and shaking them violently.

“Alaina! Alaina! My God, Alaina!”

Steeling herself against the desperate plea she heard in his voice, Alaina glanced back at Tamara who was jostling the frightened and crying babe in her arms. The woman observed the proceedings with amusement blatantly obvious on her face. As she met Alaina’s woeful gaze, she chuckled, then with the sounds of her laughter flowing back to them, she carried the baby to a quieter portion of the cave, out of sight, but surely not out of mind.

The iron gate clanked noisily as Cole shook it, bellowing epithets at Jacques. His half brother leered back at him and motioned the guards away.

“You may go. He can’t get loose, and I can order you back quickly enough if there’s a need. But there won’t be. Will there, Mrs. Latimer?”

He presented the question to Alaina who stood gazing down at the floor. Tears spilled down her cheeks, falling and making wet spots on her gown. She could hear the savage, agonized snarling of her husband as he jerked and rattled the gate. If one, by dint of will, could open the iron portal, then surely it would have been him, for at the moment, he was like a beast gone mad.

Jacques caught her arm roughly, bringing her lithe form tightly against him. Grabbing her hair at the nape of her neck, he forced her head back until their eyes clashed.

“I hate you, Jacques DuBonné,” she gritted between clenched teeth. “Whatever you do to me, remember that it’s only because you threaten Cole that I yield at all. I have not changed my opinion of you. You’re still a little pest of a man.”

Eyes flaring, Jacques drew back an arm and slapped her across the face with enough force to send her reeling had he not held her with his other hand.