Justine Cole - The Copeland Bride

Not trusting herself to speak, Noelle held out her hand, and he brushed it with his lips. "Auf Wiedersehen. Good-bye, my beautiful swan."

Later that evening. Dainty clucked her tongue in disapproval as she set a basket of eggs on the kitchen table ready for tomorrow morning's breakfast. "I don't like it one bit, Miz Copeland. A man's supposed to be with his wife, not galavantin' all over God's creation."

"It's not for you to like or dislike, Dainty Jones, and I'm sure you've xxx eavesdropped enough in this household to understand why Mr. Copeland is needed in Washington. Now, I'm going to bed!" Noelle stalked from the kitchen, banging the door behind her.

Dainty shook her head sadly as she took a last swipe at the table with her dishtowel. That young 'un needs some tendin' to, she thought to herself. And ain't no cook in the world can give it. No siree. it's her husband she needs!

When Noelle reached her room, she pulled a small valise from the back of her wardrobe and resolutely placed it on the bed. She would go to Savannah now-tonight. Later she would send for the rest of her things. The longer she put off leaving Televea, the more difficult it would be for her. Wolf was wrong. Quinn didn't love her. He had raped her, hadn't he? A man did not rape a woman he loved.

She packed the valise quickly, not giving herself time to think or to feel. When she was done, she fastened the straps and started toward the door to call for Nathan. But as she passed the fireplace something caught her eye.

There on the mantelpiece near the spot where she had found Quinn's note lay the disk of beaten silver that he always wore around his neck, the disk that had once been Amanda's. Slowly she picked it up and cradled it in the palm of her hand. The metal was cold. Tears she had refused to give into all day now began to fall freely. She knew how much this necklace meant to Quinn, and yet he had left it for her. Was it possible that he did love her? Or was this merely his way of telling her how sorry he was?

Long after the house was quiet and the servants were asleep, Noelle was still awake. She sat in her bedroom, fully dressed, the necklace lying in her lap. Finally she picked it up and slipped it around her neck. As she tucked it inside her dress the siiver disk slid down between her breasts, where the metal nestled, warm and comfortable.

Slowly she walked to the bed and unfastened the straps of her valise. For the past three years of her life, all the good and all the bad were tied to one man. If she left now, she would never be at peace with herself because she would never know the truth. When she returned to England, it must be with the certain knowledge that Quinn did not love her.

She had nearly finished unpacking when she heard a pounding at the front door. Uneasily she glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight. Who could be calling at this hour? As she hurried down the stairs she met Nathan coming from the back of the house, hastily pushing his arms into the sleeves of an old robe. He reached the door before her and opened it.

Noelle had never seen the small, wiry man who stood on the other side nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I gotta see Mr. Copeland right away!" the man exclaimed.

Quickly Noelle pushed Nathan aside. "I'm Mrs. Copeland. Tell me what's wrong."

The man's eyes darted into the hallway behind her. "You get Mr. Copeland, ma'am. I got a horse waitin' for him. There's a fire at the shipyard."

"Dear God, no!" Noelle whispered, and then, sharply, "Nathan! Get as many of the men as you can. I'm going ahead." Not bothering to fetch her cloak, she brushed past the stranger and raced across the porch toward the horses at the bottom of the front steps.

"Wait!" the man cried. "I came for Mr. Copeland!"

"My husband isn't home," she declared as she caught up her skirts and mounted the nearest horse. "Hurry! There's no time to argue." She did not wait to see if he followed her.

As she reached the edge of the pine trees near the main road, her mind was racing. How long ago had the fire started and how far had it spread? There was a new cutter they were getting ready to- Without warning, two horses shot out from the night shadows on either side of her. She jerked back on the reins as they blocked the road. "What do you think you're-"

"Son of a bitch!" a familiar voice exclaimed. "Where's Copeland?" Even before she could make out his features, Noelle knew it was Luke Baker.

Another horse drew up behind her. "He wasn't there, Luke. She took off 'fore I could stop her." It was the stranger who had come for Quinn.

Fear clawed at Noelle as she looked around at the unshaven faces of the three men who surrounded her. There was no fire at the shipyard. It was a trap. Somehow Luke Baker had escaped from prison and come after Quinn.

Bracing herself, she dug her heels into her horse's flanks. But she was too late. Baker had anticipated her movement. He swung out his forearm and caught her painfully around the waist. He jerked her to his own horse just as hers shot out from beneath her. "Now, that wasn't too smart, little lady," he sneered. "You didn't really think I was gonna let you go that easy, did you? Get that horse, Greeley. We got a long way to ride. Looks like we can't get Copeland, but I gotta feelin' she's gonna do jes' fine."

"No!" Noelle clawed at the knotted muscles of his lower arm. "No! Let me go!"

"Shut up!" He jerked hard against her ribs, sending the breath rushing from her body. "You're comin' with us, little lady. When your husband finds out I got you, it'll be better than killin' him like I planned. He.knows me well enough to figure out what I'm gonna do with you."

Noelle's struggles grew more frantic, and Baker landed a sharp, ringing blow on the side of her head. "Fightin' won't do no good," he jeered. "You belong to me and my boys now. And we're gonna treat you real fine."

They traveled the rest of that night and for the next two days keeping off the roads so they wouldn't be spotted, sleeping in snatches. The men were like rodents, she thought, skulking at the perimeters, afraid of open spaces and daylight. Other than a few vulgarities when she went into the bushes to tend to the needs of her body, they did not molest her, but she knew it was only the speed at which they were traveling that protected her.

The second day of riding was even more difficult for her than the first as they drew nearer the mountainous area of northern Georgia. The insides of her thighs were chafed and raw, and her wrists throbbed from the ropes that bound them to the pommel of her saddle. Her hair had come undone and hung in tangles down her back, and her green cashmere dress was ripped at the shoulder. She was also colder than she could ever remember with not even a shawl to protect her from the January chill.

She discovered they were heading west toward St. Louis, and her spirits sank even lower. Images of her knife lying uselessly in a drawer in her bedroom at Televea haunted her. She tried to distract herself by studying the three men and thinking about escape. Of the three, the one called Otis seemed to be the least ominous. He was large and burly, but dull-witted. Greeley, the man who had come looking for Quinn, was barely taller than she, but there was a furtive intelligence about him that made her suspect he was nearly as dangerous as Luke Baker. As for Baker, he terrified her. He seemed somehow less than human. She learned that he had escaped from prison the week before, killing a guard in the process. She tried not to think about what would happen when their pace slowed.

It was barely dark on the second day when they pulled into a clearing surrounded by pines and Baker announced that they would make camp for the night. "By now we lost anybody might of tried to come after us. I think we can take it easy for a while, don't you, boys?" Noelle's stomach lurched as Greeley and Otis hooted out their agreement.