Page 33 of The Pursuit of Elena Bradford

33

Elena didn’t sleep well. How could she with all that had happened in the last two days? Vanessa coming and so tragically dying on the same day. Her funeral. Finding out General Dawson wasn’t interested in her but in her mother. Feeling drawn toward Andrew only to see him with his once bride-to-be. Seeing that portrait Kirby did of her and hearing the general say love was in its lines.

Then Kirby the same as proposing marriage because he needed a stake for his westward dream. Thinking she could make that happen. She didn’t know whether to laugh or weep. Certainly sleep wasn’t easy.

All of it was enough to make her go back to thinking about the peace of a spinster’s chair in her sister’s house someday. She could sketch Ivy’s children or at least the flowers they might bring their old aunt.

No wonder she had never entertained the idea of love if this was how it made one feel. Confused. Unhappy. Hopeful. Distraught. Uncertain. Wishful.

Even before she knew Kirby was looking for a rich wife-to-be the same as her mother was looking for a rich husband-to-be for Elena, something didn’t feel quite right. She was attracted to him. What woman wouldn’t be? But... There shouldn’t be a but in her thoughts if she was truly ready to go west with him.

She could have said yes. She could have stepped into his embrace. Perhaps even been kissed. Wasn’t it time she was kissed to give herself something to remember if she did end up in that spinster’s corner? Of course, when she revealed her lack of money, he would be looking elsewhere.

Still, there in the shimmering moonlight by the lake, she could have let romance overrule common sense. She could have pushed thoughts of Andrew away. She needed to do that anyway now that Gloria was back in his arms.

And she was ending up in no man’s arms. Not even the general’s. What tricks life could play on a person.

When Elena got back to the room last night, Ivy had stirred from sleep and asked where she’d been. For a moment she had thought about telling her, but she needed to think it through first. Ivy would tell her to say yes to Kirby and not worry about money or the lack thereof. She would think romance should rule. Elena did hope it would for Ivy.

Now with the first light of day creeping in their windows, Elena slid out of bed without waking Ivy. She had laid out her day dress last night. Even her corset. The one lacing in the front that she could do on her own. As she put it on, she wondered if the women out west wore corsets. Surely they did. If they were ladies.

Maybe she wouldn’t have to worry about being a lady in the west. She could forget about corsets and waists squeezed so tiny it could be hard to breathe. She started to take off the offending garment. Did she care about being a lady? But then she pulled the laces as tight as she could before tying them. She wasn’t in the west. She was at the Springs, where a woman was expected to be a lady.

She might have broken rules for ladies last evening walking out into the moonlit night with Kirby. She might be the subject of more whispers. Thinking that made her remember the whispers she’d heard at Vanessa’s funeral. Poisoned drink. She needed to warn Ivy again about looking at anyone with suspicion.

Whatever had happened to Vanessa might never be known. Elena couldn’t do anything about that, but she wanted Ivy to be safe. She still wished her mother would send Ivy back to Lexington instead of thinking Elena was worrying over nothing. Maybe that was true. She fervently hoped so as she picked up her sketchbook and slipped out the door without making a sound.

Outside, the gray of night lingered while the coming of the sun was naught but a faint glow along the eastern horizon. She should have stayed in bed. Tried to sleep instead of being on this fool’s quest. Andrew wasn’t going to be searching for her among the flowers this morning. He had found someone else.

Andrew wasn’t the only reason she wanted to be in the gardens. She needed time to think about Kirby. He hadn’t actually proposed, but he had to know she wouldn’t go with him unless they married. Not that it mattered. Once he knew her family had no money to finance anything, she was sure he would lose his desire for her to go west with him, but what if he didn’t? She could go with him. She didn’t love him, but she liked him. That could grow into love.

And wouldn’t her mother be surprised? Everyone would be surprised. Maybe most of all herself.

She went by the lake and remembered Kirby’s touch on her cheek. She didn’t look over to where his easel stand waited for a new canvas. Instead, she kept her eyes on the ducks floating out on the water and found a new path that led through the willows and up among some blooming bushes she didn’t recognize. She needed a flower book.

The path led out of the trees and bushes into a wide-open space. The shooting range. Deserted now but someone might come to practice their shooting skills before breakfast. It wasn’t the place for a solitary female.

Elena melted back into the trees where she stepped off the path when she caught the scent of roses. Her shoes and dress hem got damp in the dewy grass, but she didn’t care. They would dry. She didn’t always have to stay on the beaten path.

That made her think of going west again. That would certainly be an off-the-usual-path destination for her. If only she wanted to seize that opportunity instead of lingering here in hopes Andrew would be somewhere in these gardens hunting her.

All at once she heard angry voices. She pulled in a breath and stopped still behind a thick line of evergreen bushes. While she had wanted to find Andrew, she had foolishly given no thought to the possibility of stumbling across others. Perhaps men who weren’t gentlemen. Elena couldn’t see anyone through the bushes. She didn’t want to see anyone. Most of all she didn’t want the men to see her.

“You killed the wrong girl.” The man sounded furious.

Whoever it was had to be talking about Vanessa. Elena’s heart started pounding so hard, she thought the men on the other side of the bushes might hear it. She took tiny sips of air to stay as quiet as possible. She wanted to run away but was afraid to move.

“I didn’t kill anybody.” The second voice sounded scared. “I only put a little stuff in that drink. ’Tweren’t supposed to do anything except make the lass do some heaving. Not die. I wouldn’t never kill nobody. Specially not a girl. ’Tweren’t my fault she up and died.”

“But she did.”

“Not from what I gave her.”

“You think anyone will believe that? I don’t even believe that. You messed up. Wrong girl. Wrong poison. And then let that Bradford woman see you.” The man sounded disgusted.

Elena put her hand over her mouth to smother her gasp.

“Nobody saw me. And even if they did, they wouldn’t know me since I dressed up like a gentleman instead of wearing my servant’s clothes.”

“You think so, do you? But then you’ve been pretty wrong about everything else.”

“I just did what you told me to.”

“I never told you to kill anybody. You can hang for that.”

“I won’t hang by myself.” The second man’s voice rose.

“I ought to just shoot you and get it over with.”

“You don’t have the nerve. That’s why you paid me to do your dirty work for you.”

There was the sound of a scuffle. She could peek around the bush to see the men. That way she could identify them to Dr. Graham. No, better to seize this opportunity to get away without them knowing she had overheard them.

Without looking behind her, she stepped backward and tripped over the cat. She tried to catch her balance, but her feet got tangled in her skirt. She fell with a heavy thud. She had wanted to see the cat again but not like this. It yowled and streaked away.

The men came around the bushes as she scrambled to her feet. She screamed as one of them shoved her back down onto the ground. He clamped one hand over her mouth, pressed down her shoulder with his other hand, and put his knee hard on her middle. He wore a servant’s shirt. The other man in a frock coat and top hat stood to the side, his face turned away.

The man holding her down stared at her. “Best stay quiet if you want to keep breathing, lass.”

She grabbed at his hand over her mouth and pushed it away to scream again.

“Oh, for the love of—” The other man leaned down to stuff a handkerchief in her mouth. “Get her on her feet.”

With her tongue, she pushed the handkerchief out of her mouth as the first man jerked her up and pinned her arms behind her. She only managed a yelp before the other man grabbed the handkerchief and tied it tightly around her head and mouth to gag her.

She kicked at him, but her feet got tangled in her damp skirt and petticoats. She would have fallen again if the man gripping her arms hadn’t kept her upright.

“It will go better for you if you stop fighting,” he said.

She couldn’t listen to him. She had to get away. The man in the hat looked straight at her and without a word punched her in the stomach. Elena slumped back against the other man and tried to keep from passing out as she fought for breath.

The man who hit her spoke to the man holding her. “Take care of her, and then I never want to see you again.”

“This will cost you extra.”

“I could just put bullets through the both of you.” The man’s eyes tightened as he reached for his pocket.

“Go ahead. They’ll know it was you. The doctor won’t cover for you again.”

The man swore and jerked some coins and banknotes out of his pocket and threw them on the ground. “Just do what needs doing and be gone from here.” He turned on his heel and stalked away.

Elena couldn’t help it. She started crying. She wasn’t going to be that spinster in her sister’s house or go west with Kirby or ever see Ivy or her mother again. Or Andrew.

“There, there, miss,” the man said after the other man disappeared through the trees. “I’m sorry he punched you. He’s a sorry sort. I shouldn’t have never teamed up with him.”

She tried to say something but she couldn’t make recognizable words, only sounds.

“I won’t hurt you so long as you don’t try to get away. I’ve never killed nobody. Not even that pretty lass the other night at the dance. I did put something in her drink, but ’tweren’t enough to make her fall down dead. It’s just like the doctor says. She danced herself to death.”

Elena nodded. Her only hope was that the man meant what he said. She couldn’t escape. She could barely breathe.

He pushed her back against a tree trunk. When he jerked up her skirt, she gasped.

“You don’t have to worry none about that either. I’m just getting a piece of your underskirt.” He kept his shoulder pressed against her as he ripped off the strip on the bottom of her petticoat. He pulled her hands behind the tree and tied them tight. “I’m not leaving that money here to be carried away by squirrels.”

She shut her eyes and tried to swallow. She couldn’t get sick. She could choke if that happened. Better to stay very still and breathe in and out slowly. This man said he wasn’t going to kill her. She had to focus on that as she opened her eyes to watch him snatch up the money.

He muttered under his breath. She only caught a word now and again and nothing that made sense. If only she could talk to him, she might convince him to let her go. She would promise to stay hidden here until he had time to get away. She would promise almost anything to get this gag out of her mouth.

She strained against the fabric tying her hands together. It felt loose enough that she might be able to work one of her hands free. When he looked over at her, she let her arms go limp.

Her hope of sliding her hand free died as he came over to her. “Can’t leave you here. Too close to the firing range. One of them shooters might have a call of nature and come trotting over this way.” He untied her and then pulled her hands behind her back again. This time he pulled the strips of fabric much tighter as he tied the knots. “Just do what I say and all will be fine.”

She nodded. If he’d take the gag off, she wouldn’t even scream. At least not right away. She’d say how she could tell he was a good man who hadn’t aimed to hurt anyone. How she hoped he would get away from that other man and that she was glad he’d gotten the money.

“There’s an old shed over a ways where I can stash you. They’ll search for a pretty girl like you and find you before long. But plenty long enough for me to get my stuff and be gone from here.”

Again she nodded. He held one of her elbows as he guided her through some bushes and down a hill to an open field where daisies bloomed. She had always loved daisies. The blooms looked so cheerful, but now they brought tears to her eyes as she wondered if she’d ever see flowers again. She thought of her sketchbook that she dropped when she fell over the cat. Princess Cinderella. And now Elena was going to be locked in a dungeon. Would a prince show up to rescue her?

She must be verging on hysteria to think such silly thoughts. She stumbled along beside the man. Walking with her hands behind her was clumsy. More than once, the man caught her to keep her from falling. He was still muttering, but she didn’t try to hear what he said. She just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and not getting sick.

The sun was up, spreading fingers of light across the ground that was rougher now. Not clipped. Briars snagged her skirt. The area looked deserted except for the shed the man pushed her toward.

He pulled the bar up that fit across the door. He held on to her with one hand and tugged at the door with the other. Weeds grown up in front of it made it hard to open. No one had been in this shed for a long time.

After he stomped down the weeds and finally yanked open the door, he peered through it. “It won’t be so bad. I don’t see no snakes.” He brushed down some cobwebs with his hand and pushed her inside.

She didn’t fight against him. Better to save her energy and keep her wits about her. He could still hurt her. She hunched up one shoulder toward her mouth. She begged him with her eyes as she tried to say “off.”

“I don’t reckon it could hurt none. Nobody around to hear was you to scream.”

He took a knife out of his pocket. Elena’s eyes widened as she stepped away from him. He grabbed her. “I told you I wasn’t gonna hurt you. Stand still.” He turned her away from him and sliced through the handkerchief on the back of her head.

She pushed the gag out of her mouth with her tongue and coughed.

“I’m sorry for all this, but you shouldn’t have been sneaking around listening where you had no business being.” With that, he stepped out of the shed and banged the door shut.

Elena heard him put the bar down, and then he must have wedged a rock against the bottom of the door before he walked away. If only he hadn’t left so quickly. She might have been able to talk him into cutting her hands free too.

The light in the shed was dim in spite of sunlight pushing through a few wide cracks between the planks. When she moved around, dust rose up from the dirt floor. The building was small and empty except for a block of wood in one corner. She didn’t see anything she could use to get her hands free. She jerked against the fabric but it held tight. She could wiggle her fingers but couldn’t reach the knots.

She sat down on the wood block and bowed her head.

“Dear Lord,” she whispered, then hesitated. She’d been taught that every prayer should start with praise. The Bible said to be thankful in all things, but how could she find anything to be thankful for right now with her hands bound behind her and no one to hear even if her mouth wasn’t so dry that she wasn’t sure she could yell for help?

A rustling at the other end of the shed made her freeze. What if it was a snake? Or a rat? Or who knew what kind of varmint? But then coming out of the shadows was the cat that must have followed them across the field.

“Hello, Princess.”

The cat pushed its head against her skirt.

“I can’t rub you, poor thing.”

The cat didn’t seem concerned. It jumped up into her lap and settled down. When it started purring loudly the way it had yesterday morning, she felt a ridiculous surge of hope. She had little reason to hope. She was in dreadful trouble, but the cat had found her.

This very unusual cat could be her praise, even if it had tripped her earlier. “Dear Lord. Thank you for this cat in my lap. Thank you that I am still alive. Thank you that the man took off the gag. But please help me get my hands free, and send someone to look for me. Please.”

She thought of Ivy waking up to find her gone. She wouldn’t worry right away. She would see that Elena had taken her sketch pad, but she would miss her eventually. Dear Ivy. She hoped Jacob would answer Ivy’s letter and that someday they would marry and be happy together.

She hoped her mother would lay aside her black dresses and take General Dawson’s hand in marriage. She hoped Kirby would find a way to go west and become a famous western artist. She hoped Andrew—

Here she stopped. She didn’t hope Andrew and Gloria would be happy. She could say it, but it wouldn’t be true. What she really hoped was that Andrew would seek her in the gardens and find her the way he’d promised when they were dancing. But he wouldn’t look for her here. No one would look for her here.

If only she had a drink. She would even drink down a glass of that unpleasant-tasting spring water without the first complaint.

She moistened her lips and tried to forget being thirsty as she leaned back against the wall and let prayers without words rise up inside her. Then the words General Dawson had shared at Vanessa’s funeral were there in her mind.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.