Authors: Kate Shepherd
MC BIKER ROMANCE: Bad Boy Romance: BETRAYED: (New Adult Motorcycle Club Navy SEAL Romance) (Contemporary Military Romance Thriller) (86 page)
We survived the cold of the holiday season and spent a great deal of time with Mrs. Goodman. In fact, we welcomed 1875 at her home. Prudence and Robert had the night off and had gone to a party with a few other service workers. We did not expect them to return and decided to stay the night at Mrs. Goodman’s.
At midnight, she kissed each of our cheeks and insisted we dance while she played piano. It was quite a time for only three people. She went to bed around one o’clock.
Jacob and I sat up together a little longer and watch the fire die out. Then, he walked me to the room I first stayed in when I arrived to Colorado. He kissed my forehead and went down the hall to rest on the couch in the study.
I looked forward to the New Year.
There were little touches of my own throughout our house now and Jacob and I had a routine that could have been enviable to any marriage. We had breakfast and dinner together every day. Sometimes I would ride to the site he was working and we would share a picnic lunch. Mrs. Goodman and I would visit town together once a week. The three of us always had Saturday lunch at our house and Sunday dinner at hers.
I rode so often that new trails were taking shape around our property and the Goodman house. There were all sorts of interesting things to collect and I painted pictures of things that were too large to keep. I could not ask for more.
Jacob had even begun seeing results in one of the new caverns he was exploring. He came home regularly with a few grams to an ounce of silver.
We made it through spring with a nice garden, new animals, and letters of good progress on my sister’s pregnancy. She was due at the end of June and Jacob had arranged for me to spend six weeks to help her recover and care for the baby.
Our niece, Gillian, was born July 20
th
and healthy active baby from her first breath. I enjoyed my time with my sister’s family and the new little one, but I had the strangest aching feeling the entire time I was gone.
As I rode the Kansas pacific one more time from Kansas City, Missouri to Denver the ache gave way to excitement. I realized I missed my husband. In fact, I longed for him. In his absence, I learned that I had fallen in love with him, but fate’s cruel hand was at work again. It was late July and summer rains were heavy. All commuters to Denver were put off the train one stop early in Strasburg. Cherry Creek had risen and the train could not reach Denver.
I paid a carriage driver extra to see me to Denver to find that Jacob was not home when I arrived the evening of the 25
th
. I readied my horse and rode the mile or so to Mrs. Goodman’s.
She was pleased to see me, but we were both concerned about Jacob. Cherry Creek was not far from where he was mining silver when I left. I told her I would check in on her during the day.
I rode fiercely under moonlight peeking through rain to find that Jacob had moved on to a new site in the month I was away. I continued, calling his name between breaks of thunder until I came upon his horse and work cart.
I could see the horse was distressed. I dismounted and tied my horse near his and gave a quick pat to his haunches to soothe him and reassure him he was safe. I was there.
Jacob was nowhere in sight and I couldn’t see light from the cave for him to be sheltered there. I ran to the mouth of the cavern and shouted his name once more. I was drowned out by the thunder, I moved in a little further and shouted once more with all the volume I could manage.
I waited and listened. Nothing.
I couldn’t give up. I moved in further following the marks that Jacob had made for the path he was taking. I was trudging through nearly a foot of water that seemed to be getting deeper as I moved into the cave. I caught myself just before a drop off of about a dozen feet.
Jacob laid on a large rock, soaked and unconscious.
“Jacob!” I screamed.
Tears were coming now. I was sure he was dead. I sunk to my knees sobbing and wailing loudly.
“Lillian? Lillian is that you, can you hear me?” Jacob called.
“Yes,” I yelled wiping tears away.
“Lillian, my leg is broken. The storm isn’t stopping. You need to get out of here and go home where it is safe,” he called.
“Not without you,” I replied.
He insisted, but I told him there was no time for this back and forth.
“You promised me what I want and I want you! Now how do I get you out of here?” I asked desperately.
“I have rope here, but it’s no good. There should be more with my horse. If you can lead the horses into the cave I can tie myself with the new rope and they can raise me out.
“Okay, I’ll get the horses and come right back,” I said.
I ran to the horses, but they pulled against me as I tried to lead them into the cave. I pulled their bridals so they could both really look at me. Without another word or whinny, they followed me in. they hesitated only a moment when a rush of water came in making it rise around our legs. We heard Jacob call and all felt a surge of purpose.
I tied the rope to one saddle, sent it down to Jacob for him to rig support as best as he could then he sent back the other end to be tied to the second horse. Once he was back to the higher ground I did my best to care for his leg and bind it.
The horses were calmer having Jacob back and we all passed the night in the entrance of the cave. In the morning, the rain had stopped, but the area had taken significant damage. Luckily, Jacob’s leg was the worst of what we encountered.
Weeks later, Jacob was still on bed rest as his leg healed. I brought breakfast to his room and opened his curtains.
I was happy to be starting a new day with my husband. I loved the life I had chosen.
After a few months, Jacob was fully recovered and our bond had grown stronger than ever. We made the decision to have a child of our own and six months later, I had become pregnant.
As my stomach grew in size, I often pondered that day when I first set out to come West. Although it was my hope, I only half-heartedly expected to find true love and a new family. I still do miss seeing my sister and Michael on a daily basis, but I firmly believe that responding to that ad was the greatest decision I have ever made.
Cassandra toyed with her skirt, admiring the beauty of her dress. She was filled with giddy anticipation as she waited for Ian to arrive with the carriage. Ian was Jonathon’s cousin, and this evening was his wedding gift to the two of them. Well, his and Cassandra’s cousins’. He would drive the carriage himself, taking them first to Antoine’s Restaurant and then, after that, to the French Opera House on Bourbon and Toulouse.
Truth be told, she didn’t much care about the restaurant, though she would never have said so to Ian or her cousins. It was the thought of the opera that had her on the edge of her seat, barely able to contain herself. She had loved music for as long as she could remember and had dreamt of seeing an opera from the time she was a young girl.
She had never been before and, truth be told, she would probably never have the opportunity to go again. She and Jonathon were not particularly wealthy. Tonight’s extravagance they owed entirely to the kindness of Ian, Hannah, and Christine. Most of the family had given them practical gifts, things that would be useful to them as they started their lives together.
However, Hannah and Christine, knowing her deep love of music, had had another idea. They had easily talked Ian into the plan. Normally he carried passengers for fare, but he had agreed to take this night to drive Cassandra and Jonathon.
Christine and Hannah, for their part, had scrimped and saved to pay for the evening at the opera. Even Cassandra’s dress had been a gift from them. They had bought the material and, with a bit of persuasion, convinced their mother, Marie, to sew the dress.
Cassandra smoothed the material as she admired it once more. It really was a thing to behold. The material was a light rose-colored silk with black velvet bows on the bodice and the sleeves. It had a short train, which also boasted adornments of black velvet. They had even included a folding fan that matched the dress. She had never felt more beautiful in her life, she decided.
She blushed when she looked up to find Jonathon smiling down at her. She hadn’t yet managed to wrap her head around the fact that he was actually her husband now. The sight of him still made her feel as giddy as a school girl.
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he closed it again and instead placed a kiss on the top of her head. She laid her head on his shoulder as he squeezed her hand and the two of them continued to sit in comfortable silence as they waited for the carriage to arrive.
They didn’t have to wait long. Jonathon laughed as she almost came out of her seat at the sound of approaching hooves. Ian drew the carriage to a halt in front of them, and Jonathon smiled as he offered Cassandra his hand.
“Madam,” he said laughingly as he helped her into the carriage. She laughed as she accepted his hand and climbed into the carriage. Once he had settled in beside her they spoke excitedly in hushed tones all the way to Antoine’s. In truth, he didn’t care much for the idea of going to the opera. But her enthusiasm was infectious and he found that he was almost as excited as she was.
It had always been that way between the two of them. When she was happy, so was he, simply because
she
was happy. And when she felt sorrow, he felt it right along with her. The two of them had been inseparable since childhood, and neither could imagine life without the other.
When they arrived at Antoine’s they were greeted and escorted to a small table beneath an elegant chandelier. The place really was quite charming, Cassandra decided. She made a decided effort to calm down and savor the experience and the food. As anxious as she was to get to the opera, she knew that she would never again have a night like this one, and she didn’t want to waste a single moment of it. By the time they reached the French Opera House she could barely contain herself.
She gasped in wonder at her first sight of the lobby. Wide columns rose up to meet ceilings adorned with flowers and the floors gleamed like jewels. There were circular settees, elaborate centerpieces adorning the middle of each, and luxuriant curtains graced the various domed windows and archways. She had to make a conscious effort not to stop where she stood and turn round in circles trying to take it all in.
The concert hall itself surpassed the lobby tenfold. Three rows of balconies and private boxes ringed the main floor and the vastness of the room took her breath away. She tightened her grasp on Jonathon’s elbow as she drank it all in.
Jonathon took little notice of the opera house itself, instead enjoying Cassandra’s reaction to it. She had never looked more beautiful than she did in that moment, he thought. Her silken blonde hair was swept into elegant ringlets and the dress that her cousins had had made for her complemented her slender frame perfectly.
But what really struck him, what really made her beautiful, was the way that her brown eyes sparkled as she took in the sights around her. His heart swelled as she looked up at him, and he thanked God that he had been lucky enough to make her his wife.
They found their seats and Cassandra studied the program. The name of the opera was Mignon. It was not one she had ever heard of, although she did recognize some of the singers by name. Her heart soared as the first notes rolled through the air of the auditorium. She didn’t understand a word of what was being said, but the music itself spoke to her in a way that she felt right down to her bones. She felt that if she had died right then she could have died happy.
It was a mercy that she could not know just how different her life would be in only three months’ time.
*****
Cassandra lay in the guest bedroom of her cousin’s house staring blankly at the walls. She had not left the bed since Jonathon’s funeral. The fever had taken him so suddenly. He had taken a turn for the better and they had thought he would make a full recovery. But it was not to be. It was like that sometimes with yellow fever, the doctor had told her.
Her heart refused to accept the reality of it, and her mind shied away from it violently anytime the subject came up. She couldn’t bear to think of him being gone. So she allowed a small part of her to keep believing that he would walk through the door at any moment, that this had all been a bad dream.
But she knew that that was not true. She also knew that she needed to start making some kind of plan for her future without him. She couldn’t stay with Hannah forever. While Hannah and her husband, James, would no doubt open their arms and their home to her without hesitation, she knew that they could not afford to support her.
The same could be said of Ian and Christine and their respective spouses as well. They would doubtlessly welcome her, but there was no way that they could support her and…
She rested her hand against her belly. She had told no one of the baby yet. She had just been about to break the good news to Jonathon when he had fallen ill. She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that thinking of it brought. He would have been so happy.
Her reverie was broken by a soft knock at the door. Sitting up, she hastily wiped the tears away and tried to push those thoughts out of her mind as Hannah entered the room bearing a tray with a bowl of soup.
“I thought you might like to try and eat something,” she said as she settled on the bed next to Cassandra. Worry was painted across her delicate features. Cassandra nodded dully as she accepted the tray. The last thing she wanted to do was eat, but she knew that the baby needed nourishment.
So far everyone had assumed that her bouts of nausea were brought on by nerves. And for the time being she was happy to let them think so.
“How are you feeling?” Hannah asked her, brushing aside her matted hair to feel her forehead.
“Not feverish, if that’s what you mean,” Cassandra rasped.
“No, that’s not what I mean. Well, not just that,” Hannah replied, folding her hands in her lap.
Cassandra opened her mouth to answer, but no words came to her. She shook her head helplessly as tears threatened to spill again.
“Shh, it’s okay, I know. I know, honey. I’m so sorry,” Hannah said, taking the tray from Cassandra and setting it aside. She wrapped Cassandra in her arms and held her as she cried. The two remained that way for some time after Cassandra’s tears ran out.
Hannah’s heart ached for her. She wanted to help, but she was completely at a loss for what to say or do. She suspected that nothing she could say or do
could
help. She couldn’t imagine what she would do if something were to happen to her James.
She gave Cassandra a brief squeeze before making her way across the room to retrieve the brush from the dressing table. She settled herself once more on the bed and began to work through the matted tangles of Cassandra’s hair. Cassandra made no objection.
“He wouldn’t like seeing you like this,” she said absently. Cassandra stiffened. She wasn’t sure why her cousin’s words filled her with so much anger, but they did. She struggled to tamp down her rage. Hannah meant well, she knew that. She was determined not to take her anger out on her.
She needn’t have worried. The anger abandoned her as quickly as it had come. She felt hollow in its absence. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and stared blankly ahead.
Neither woman spoke again as Hannah continued to work at the tangles. When she had finally worked them all out she wove Cassandra’s hair into a tight braid that reached more than halfway down her back.
After a long moment Hannah stood and made her way to the door. She paused in the doorway.
“I’ll leave the soup,” she said. “Call if you need me.”
Cassandra nodded numbly. She did not turn her gaze from the wall as Hannah shut the door. After a few minutes she moved woodenly to retrieve the tray. She took up the spoon and forced herself to eat everything in the bowl, along with a large slice of bread that Hannah had set out beside the soup. Each bite was tasteless to her, and the food sat in the pit of her stomach like a stone.
But the baby needed nourishment.