Echoes of Tomorrow (34 page)

Jeff was chasing her.  She kept running but couldn't build any speed.  Just enough to stay ahead of him.  She hid behind stupid things like a glass door, or a lawn chair, and he didn't see her.

But he always came back.

She even flew - literally flew - without an airplane.  Her body swam through the air, but not quite out of Jeff's reach.

Help!
  She tried to scream the word, but all she did was hiss.  Just a low, sibilant, moaning hiss that no one could hear but Jeff.  It seemed to amuse him.

He reached up in the air and grabbed her leg.  She swam harder, but his pull was relentless.  His hand curled into a fist, and he swung at her head. 
Help!  Reed, help me!
  Her brain shrieked the words.

"Reed!  Reeeeed!"

The scream finally came, and she shot up in bed.  Her hair stuck to her cheeks, and she panted as if she'd really been running.  Sweat trickled behind her ears and down her neck.  She started to kick off the suffocating sheets but nothing covered her.  The sudden movement pierced her ankle with pain, and she cried out against it.

The door burst open and banged against the wall.  She cringed and looked for an escape, forgetting her ankle.  But it was Reed.  Oh, thank God, it was Reed, framed in the doorway in a halo of light, like her guardian angel.

He was at her side, and she was in his arms in a heartbeat.  She clung to him with a death grip, and he rocked her there on the side of the bed.

"There, there.  It's all right.  It's okay, little one.  I'm here.  I'm here."

His low, whispery voice reassured her.  She could feel the vibrating hum of his words against her ear.  He pressed the crystal goblet of brandy that had been sitting on her night table against her lips.  She took a few sips when he tilted it back.

She shook with the memory of her nightmare, more vivid than any she'd ever had.  He pulled her even closer and nuzzled her hair.  His lips dropped what should have been calming kisses onto her tousled, sun-streaked mane.  But the kisses were anything but calming.

Elise twisted in his arms until she lay across his lap.  She lay there, just studying his face.  He studied hers.

Vague memories of what had happened when he'd carried her to bed stirred in the recesses of her mind.

The laudanum.  Damn the laudanum.

And damn his honor.

She turned her head and snuggled against his chest.  Her face met warm, almost hot skin.  A few softly curling hairs tickled her nose.  Heavy brocade silk interrupted her wandering lips, and she silently cursed the loose dressing gown he'd slung on.

In no time, she had risen to her knees and shoved the robe from his shoulders.  Her lips followed the same path they'd followed that afternoon.  So did her hands.  They traveled in different directions, until his raspy breath caught in his throat.

"Make love to me, Reed."  She spoke the words into his mouth.

His groan rose from somewhere deep in his soul.

"Make love to me, darlin'.  For old time's sake."

His groan intensified, and she had her answer.

He pulled her across his lap, and the two fell backward into the darkest shadows.  He played her like a finely tuned instrument; played her over and over throughout the night.  In return, she sent him above those clouds he'd watched today.  And this time they fell together into the white, fluffy mist, into a spinning, dizzying vortex of blessed oblivion.  No interruptions.  No laudanum.

No turning back.

*******

"I don't care what I have to do.  I'll send you to Europe.   I'll raise the child myself.  Whatever it takes, I'll do it to get out of this betrothal."

The speech Reed had rehearsed was not at all like the one coming out of his mouth.  He'd planned to be diplomatic, persuasive, but at Angeline's vehement refusal, he'd lost all thought of diplomacy.

"You don't love me, Angeline.  And I don't love you.  You can find someone you care for and still have a wonderful life.  No one will ever know the child I'm raising is yours."

A sneer contorted Angeline's face, and Reed wondered what in the world he'd ever found attractive about the woman.

"I have given you my answer, Reed," her voice was almost a hiss.  "You had best get used to the idea of our marriage.  I am surprised your little tramp will still have you, considering you raped me.  Does she not fear you would do the same to her?  Then again, one cannot rape the willing, can one?"

He could feel the blood drain from his face, and Angeline stared with narrowed eyes.  Her high-pitched laugh made an ugly rent in the air before she spoke.

"She does not know.  Does she?  Oh, how wonderful!"  She  rubbed her hands with obvious glee.  "Yes, Reed, you will marry me, or Elise and everyone in New Orleans will know the truth."

If he didn't get out of here soon he might give in to the urge to choke the life from this woman.  He grabbed his hat from the settee and headed for the front door.  He refused to say another word.

"Reed."

He kept walking.

"I want her gone from Oak Vista, Reed."

His hand turned the doorknob.

"I may be forced to tell her..."

He spun around on her, cutting off her words with a chopping motion.

"Breathe one word of this to Elise, and I will have no reason to marry you."  He paused to let his words sink in.  "Once you destroy my honor, you destroy any incentive I have to be honorable.  You'd best remember that, woman."

Every window in the house rattled when he slammed the door behind him.

*******

If she could only pace.  Instead, her blasted ankle forced her to sit on the upper veranda while she waited for Reed's return.  With her foot propped on an ottoman, she had to settle for some ferocious finger tapping instead, and that wasn't at all satisfying.

Not nearly as satisfying as last night.  Her pulse quickened with just the thought of all they'd shared.  Their spirits had joined, as well as their bodies, and it wouldn't have been surprising to her to find a part of Reed left behind, deep down in her soul.

Reed had told her when he rode away that he was determined to put a stop to Angeline's marriage plans.  He'd vowed he would find a way for the two of them to marry, without Angeline's interference.

Elise wasn't so optimistic.  She'd come up against women of Angeline's ilk in the twentieth century more times than she cared to remember.  The personality was a familiar one.  She knew Angeline would rather see Reed destroyed than see him choose another woman over her.

The wait wasn't long, which was not a good sign. 

She saw the cloud of dust rising in the air before she saw either horse or rider.  Then with a thunder of hooves, a solitary horse burst onto the avenue of oaks and charged toward the house at breakneck speed.  At first she thought it was riderless, but a closer look showed Reed bent low over the horse's neck, his body flowing with the straining muscles of his mount.

It looked as if he would charge right up onto the veranda, but at the last minute he yanked on the reins and flung himself from the stallion's back.

Elise placed her foot on the floor and hobbled to the railing, her heart in her throat.

Reed looked up at her, but he didn't seem to see her at all.  She waited for him to say something - anything - but he continued to stare, his eyes focused on something inside himself.

The bubble of hope Elise had been harboring burst into a million pieces.

*******

Now, more than ever, when he looked at this woman his body came alive.  This time though, the process was painful - almost too painful to bear.

"Did you really expect her to let you out of it Reed?  That self-centered little twit would rather see you in hell than let you out of her clutches."

The only sound in the room was that of Elise pacing the floor with a limping gait.  He stood slumped against the mantel.  His arms ached to hold her.  But there was a question in his mind that had nothing to do with Angeline, and he had to get it off his chest.

"Elise," he shoved away from the mantel and poured himself a brandy, "there's something we need to talk about."

Her pacing stopped, but he continued to study the amber liquid in the cut glass snifter.  He wasn't sure he could look her in the eye but forced himself to turn and face her.

She grimaced and shook her head.  "Don't tell me there's more bad news."

"I'm not sure."  He set the glass down without ever taking a drink.  "Elise, last night when we...were together, well, you weren't...that is to say..." he turned and looked heavenward, trying to decide exactly how one goes about this conversation with a lady.

"Spit it out, Reed.  I wasn't what?"

He spun around and nailed her with his gaze.

"I wasn't the first, Elise.  That means you may already be married.  What if you have a husband out there looking for you?"  He tried but failed to keep the pain from his voice.

Elise stared at him, her expression unchanged except for the pallor which swept the color from her cheeks.  She blinked, and her gaze fell to the floor as she sank slowly onto the loveseat.  She seemed to be searching for words.  Reed took a seat across from her and waited for her to speak.

She sighed and closed her eyes.  When she opened them again she slid from the loveseat to kneel at his feet.  Her hands were icy in his.

"Darlin,' look at me."  He stared straight into her sea green eyes.  "I have no one in my life but you.  I can't tell you why I'm so sure of it, but I am.  As for you not being the first, I know you're disappointed but..."

Reed cupped her chin with his index finger.  "Little one, I could never be disappointed in you.  I'm not concerned about that.  It doesn't matter.  What I'm concerned about is the possibility of a husband."

She rested her head on his knee and swallowed hard.

"You have to trust me on this, Reed.  There's no one but you.  Maybe someday I'll be able to have all the answers for you, but right now all I can say is you're the only man in my life."

She raised her head again and looked at him.

"Do you believe that?"

Her eyes were so clear and earnest, he could believe anything she said.  He wanted to believe her.  Surely she would remember if she had a husband.  He was certain, if he ever found that perfect woman, that he would never forget his wife.  Perhaps there was another reason why Elise...

"Let's not dwell on a problem that doesn't exist."  Elise rose to her feet and began pacing again, ignoring the pain in her throbbing ankle.  "The problem is Angeline and what to do about her."

Nothing could be done where Angeline was concerned.  If he refused to marry her, she would make their lives miserable.  He started to say as much when Elise spun around, her countenance drawn.

"Let's leave.  We'll just pack up what we can carry and go start a life together somewhere else.  Maybe we'll find my home and family.  How would you like that?"  Her voice sounded desperate, like she was clinging to a last thread of hope.

She clenched and unclenched the skirt in her hand as she looked at him.  Her eyes filled, and she quirked her mouth into a sad smile, as if she already knew what he would say.

"Elise, we can't run away and leave my child to be raised by Angeline.  You've said yourself she's a vindictive witch.  And you could never respect me if I did such a thing."  He shook his head and stared at the floor.  "No.  We both know I could never walk away from this and leave it unresolved." 

She looked up and stared him in the eye.  Her voice broke when she spoke again. 

"You're right.  You'd end up hating me, hating us, and I could never live with that."

Reed turned and stared out the window.  If she only knew how low his self-respect was now.  If he could only explain why Angeline had him so cornered.  But he'd rather marry the shrew than see the look on Elise's face when he told her he'd raped a woman that night after the ball.  He could live with self-loathing.  But he couldn't bear for Elise to know what he'd done.

She hurt all over.  Her ankle throbbed, her stomach was in knots, and a pounding headache built in her temples.  But that was all endurable compared to this sensation of having her still-beating heart ripped right out of her chest.  She didn't even realize she had her hands pressed over her heart, like one would press near a pain to dull it.

She watched Reed kick, with increasing force, the toe of his boot against the andirons in the fireplace.  It was obvious he struggled with some inner demon.  Was he agonizing over Angeline or still worrying about the possibility of her having a husband?  How ironic that he should be worried about himself.

The decorative brass andirons were beginning to show abuse.

"Mistah Reed!  Mistah Reed!" a child's voice called from the back of the house.  Before Reed could react, Big John's tiny son, Ambrose, burst into the room, Obiah close on his heels.

"Mistah Reed, Pappy done sent me to fetch you.  The new mare be foalin'."  He stopped for only a second to catch his breath.  "Only nothin' happenin', and Pappy be afeared we gonna lose ‘em both."