Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 1) (34 page)

Chapter Sixty-Six

    
 
R
ebecca
heard a loud crack shatter the quiet of the ride and woke suddenly as the carriage shifted to one side.

      “Timothy!” she screamed, watching him pull the baby to his chest as the vehicle tilted violently.

      “Get down!” he shouted, pushing her onto the floor of the carriage. Rebecca doubled over as the coach began to overturn.

      Timothy heard a gunshot and tried to gather his feet beneath him. He found himself outside of the carriage, the baby pulled close to his chest. He felt the searing crease of the next bullet graze his shoulder and scrambled to the cover of a nearby tree trunk.

      His feet gave way beneath him as he stumbled too close to a slick embankment and he began to roll. He held the infant to him, supporting her with the strength of his arms as they tumbled.

     Splinters of bark exploded over his head as he lay in a deep ravine at the bottom of the long hill, the child silently studying his face. He heard the scuffle of feet above him and felt the warmth of his own blood wetting his shoulder.

      “Philip! You must tell me what route they’ve taken to Stavewood!”

      Octavia was reining in her horse brutally, in front of the cottage, frantic and breathing hard.

      “I believe my mother has gone completely mad! You have to tell me! She’s going to kill them both if someone doesn’t stop her. Please!” Octavia was screaming hysterically and pleading with the man.

    “They took the back ridge road. I’ll get my men together!” Phillip replied, but before he could finish, Octavia turned her horse and rode swiftly towards the ridge.

      Timothy looked into the dark eyes of his softly breathing daughter and prayed that she didn’t utter a sound. She was the perfect image of her mother and the man held his breath, his mind racing. He tried to devise a way to get to Rebecca and still protect the child.

      “Rot in hell, Elgerson!” He heard Dianna’s voice echo through the ravine. “You could have had Octavia, but you lusted after that bitch instead! Well, now you can just rot in hell!”

      Timothy heard her stomp away on the hard packed road.

      “She thinks I’m dead,” he whispered, holding perfectly still. The baby smiled innocently.

      He waited several seconds until the footsteps had completely died away and silently made his way up the hillside, the child against him in one arm. Part way up he heard Rebecca scream out his name and he stopped, listening and hoping with every inch of his being that he could rush to her. He heard her cry out again, indignation in her voice, and he continued to scramble up the hill.

      As he reached the rise to the road, he heard a horse galloping off swiftly, and the angered cry of his own animal, still fastened to the carriage. Rebecca was nowhere in sight.

      He leapt up onto the road and set the child in a soft pile of clothing near the carriage. He struggled to unhitch Cannonball from the carriage, the horse finally scrambling to its feet and stomping in circles angrily. Commanding the horse firmly he pulled the animal clear of the carriage. The dead body of the driver lay motionless beneath the broken wheel.

      He held his daughter, frantic with indecision, while the horse snorted hotly at his shoulder. He could not leave the infant alone in the wilderness, and he knew that if he could not reach Rebecca, Dianna would surely kill her.

     He tried to devise a way to carry the baby and still travel on horseback, but the Arabian bore no saddle and, even without the child, Timothy would have a hard ride. He pulled a piece of leather luggage from the carriage hoping to attach it across the animal’s back. He tried stuffing the bag with a shirt, and pulled the flap closed loosely to allow for air. He drew his rifle from the broken carriage and tried to find a way to hold the child and mount the animal. Timothy heard a fast approaching horse.

      Believing he recognized Dianna racing towards him, he sighted the muzzle of his gun, targeting the approaching rider.

       “Timothy!” Octavia shouted.

      He held onto the trigger and began to squeeze it slowly.

      “Timothy! Stop! I know where Mother may have gone!”

      The big man lowered the rifle, his breathing rapid and hoarse.

      “Where? She has Rebecca. Where is she?” he yelled.

      Octavia jumped from her horse, running frantically to face the infuriated giant.

      “Have you come to claim your prize, Octavia?” Timothy snarled at her through clenched teeth.

      “Mother’s gone mad! You have to believe me, Tim. I had no idea of all the things she’s been doing!”

      “Get out of my way, Octavia. I have no time to listen to your lies. Tell me where she’s taken my wife!” He lunged at her, grabbing her by the shoulders.

      “I was a stupid fool!’ Octavia cried. “She told me that she would take care of things. I let her do everything for me. I never cared as long as I had everything I wanted! She killed Uncle Finn, she admitted it all! She cut that poor sweet man’s throat and left him dying, she wants to kill Rebecca too!” Octavia did not fight as Timothy growled fiercely into her face and held her in his painful grip.

      “I thought I was in love with you until that day your son was missing. It all made sense the day you told me you were to be married. I was so angered not to get what I wanted. But you weren’t in love with me. You belonged to Rebecca. Tim, I was a fool and Mother has her now. Please listen to me. She’s heading for the clearing behind Hawk Bend Station. You have to go after her. She’s crazy, Tim! She’ll kill her!”

      Timothy pushed her from him and turned to mount his horse as Louisa let out a clear squeal.

      “Damn,” he cursed. He opened the bag and lifted out the child, his hands shaking with fear and indecision.

      “Timothy?” Octavia gasped. “Where on earth did you get a baby?”

      “She’s my daughter, Octavia.”

      “Give her to me, Tim. You can’t go after Rebecca with a baby! Don’t be a fool. Leave her with me. Go get your wife!”

      Timothy looked at her, his face dark and infuriated.

      “Damn it all, Octavia!”

      “Tim, I would never hurt her. Please, go get your wife before this poor baby loses her mother. Now!” Octavia screamed at him, her body shaking with fear.

      Timothy looked down at his daughter’s tiny face and quivered in dread as he handed her to Octavia, choking back tears. He took his rifle and leapt onto the Arabians back.

      “I swear Octavia. If anything happens to that child I will hunt you down until my dying day.”

      “I know,” Octavia whispered as the man rode off.

      He picked up Dianna’s trail quickly, quaking with terror as he rode. His eyes spilling over with tears, he drove his horse, clinging to the animal’s mane with fear and hatred.

      Timothy Elgerson rode on, crazed, until he found evidence that two people had left a horse and scuffled in the dirt.

      The Arabian was frantic, sensing his master’s panic as Timothy lay against the big stallion’s back studying the jumble of footsteps in the dust.

      He heard a shout not far in the distance and urged the horse forward, easing out his rifle. Through the tangle of trees he could make out the broad back of Dianna, her feet planted beneath her and could hear her bellows.

      “I will find you and kill you, bitch!” she screamed. “Elgerson is dead and I swear you will rot in hell beside him!”

      Timothy slid from the horse’s back, and circled around on foot through the undergrowth. He found a bushy thicket and hunkered down to sight his rifle when suddenly Rebecca reached out from under the bushes and grabbed his arm.

      “The baby?” she whispered, in a barely audible rush.

     Timothy nodded and held his finger to his lips.

      He stepped through the woodland and heard a sharp click.

      “There you are bitch!” Dianna stood over Rebecca, her gun cocked.

      Timothy lifted his rifle and fired. The bullet found its target and Dianna Weintraub fell to the ground dead.

      He hung his head and swallowed hard. Timothy tried to call to his wife. His chest was tightly fixed and he felt strangled, his breathing too constricted to utter a sound.

     He saw her move in the thicket. “Rebecca,” he uttered.

      “Timothy?” She scrambled to him, her face choked with tears. She threw herself to him violently as they held one another on the damp forest floor.

      “The baby. Timothy, where’s the baby?” She shook uncontrollably and clung to his arm.

      He pulled her to her feet without a word, nearly dragging her to the horse and flung her onto the Arabian’s back. Jumping up behind her he kicked the horse to a fast run.

      “Is she alright?” Rebecca cried, her voice trailing off in their speed.

     The huge animal carried his frantic riders swiftly along the narrow road, Rebecca clinging to the horses’ mane, the big hard man against her back.

Chapter Sixty-Seven

    
 
T
imothy
reined the horse to a sudden halt, and leapt from the animal’s back. He began to search the area around the overturned carriage.

      “Where is she?” Rebecca screamed as she slid from the horse and stumbled hysterically in the road.

      Octavia emerged from the woods, her face streaming with tears. Rebecca gasped in terror.

      The big woman walked to Rebecca and handed her the baby, sobbing deeply.

     Rebecca took her daughter carefully, her face pale with fear and moved aside the blanket to see her infant daughter looking up at her calmly. Her arms began to tremble violently and she held the baby close to her.

      “I never wanted it to be this way,” Octavia wept.

      Timothy strode to Rebecca’s side and laid his arm across her shoulder protectively, his heart pounding thunderously in his chest.

      “Your baby, she’s so beautiful.” Octavia choked. “I thought I was in love. I only wanted you to love me.”

      Timothy looked at the big woman, and Rebecca held her baby close as they watched Octavia standing wretchedly in the road.

      “She killed him for me, you know? She did it all for me. She said it was because she loved me!” Her cries turned to anger and she snarled.

      “She didn’t love me, she only loved herself. The farm is in foreclosure. She needed money. She told me I was in love with you. It was easy for her to convince me because I had no idea what love was.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

      “It’s right here, though, isn’t it? You see! It’s right there in the baby’s innocent face. I was looking at her and I heard the shot. I know what happened. I know what Mother has done. I knew it had to happen. Your baby smiled at me, and I knew. It was not about love. It was never about love.”

      “I’m sorry, Octavia.” Timothy hung his head.

      “Don’t be, Tim. You can’t change any of it. You can’t bring back Uncle Finn. You can’t undo what Jude did to that poor horse. No one can do anything more about what Mother did to both of you. What I tried to do.” Octavia doubled over, consumed with grief. After several wrenching sobs she stood up and looked at them both.

      “Timothy Elgerson, you were my friend once, and I was never really grateful for that. You take Rebecca home now. You take her and your baby home to Stavewood where they belong.

      “I’m going to my mother. Mother thought you could capture love by hating. I don’t hate either of you. I never want to hate like she did.

      “Rebecca, you love that baby. Teach her what love really means. She is the most perfect thing I have ever seen.”

      Octavia gathered her skirt up around her feet and started up the road, turning into the woodland.

      Rebecca buried her face into the strong shoulder of her husband, sobbing softly as she stood with her family in the road and heard the shot from Octavia’s pistol echo through the woods.

      “It’s all over, Rebecca.” Timothy Elgerson whispered to his wife.

Chapter Sixty-Eight

    
 
T
he
magnificent Queen Anne stood proudly on the hilltop, her majestic turret piercing the dazzling blue sky. Leaded glass windows glittered brilliantly, each facet reflecting the surrounding white pine and deciduous forest, as if the glorious spectacle existed entirely to frame the regal home.

      “Welcome home, Rebecca.” Timothy smiled lovingly to his wife and daughter beside him as he pulled the carriage from the road into Stavewood.

The End