Legacy (28 page)

There was no question now whether I 'belonged' to Steven or was 'engaged' to Justin - both commitments, any commitments, would have to wait. I might pretend, I realized, again with that same strange ruthlessness, but in my heart I would have to belong to no one but myself until I had won. Father's death had changed everything. I was left suddenly with an enormous and complex task, one that would be doubly difficult because I was a woman. It would take all my feminine guile and, yes, my body, too, if necessary, but I would one day stand at the top of the real Legacy, inside a beautiful brick mansion that was no longer a dream . . .

With a start, I realized what must be happening at the hotel just across the lake, at the lumber mill in Grampian, at the camps, at the Deer Park Hotel, at the gas company, at the trolley line - every one of Father's investments would be in chaos today when they learned of his death. And the chaos would build every moment I was away, every moment each investment was without a leader. Each day that passed until I could return would make it more and more difficult for me to take command. I had to get back! I had to get out of here!

I fought off the impulse to move quickly, recalling what Campbell had said about the sheer drop beneath my feet. The rocks were slippery; the leather heels of my shoes could not gain any hold. As I tried to push myself up slowly, my two feet simply skidded off the surface of the rock, and for one horrible moment I found myself slipping down, on my back, hands tied in front of me, unable to stop myself. But somehow I was able to twist myself sideways and double up, digging into the side of the rock with my knees and my forearms, so that I brought my slide to a halt. Then I gradually began to work my way upward, using my knees and elbows. I had no idea how far I had to go or how near I had come to a disastrous fall over the precipice Campbell had warned me about. I only knew that I was moving and that some way I would reach the surface and see daylight again.

It was hard, slow going. I knew it was dangerous to try to move like this, for every so often I would slip back and have to press my arms into the jagged rock alongside me to keep from losing all the ground I had gained, or more. Still I kept on, my eyes straining upward against the blackness, hoping to see some sign of daylight begin to appear above.

I paused to rest. The gag in my mouth was hot, and it prevented me from breathing in fresh air. I could hear the sound of my own breathing as I waited. And then above me I heard something move. It was a scraping noise. Only a few yards away something was coming down the passage. I tried to see. Was I imagining things, or was the darkness up ahead more grey than black? The noise grew closer, and suddenly I felt a rush of fear. What if this was not Campbell returning, not someone from a rescue party? What if this was a black bear, or a rattlesnake, or a copperhead? I had forgotten how far away I was from the hotel, which, as far as I knew, was the only building for many miles. Lynx or black bears would roam freely in these woods, and so would snakes, and I was powerless to defend myself. If only I could work my hands free!

But as I struggled again to twist my hands across one another and develop a little slack in the rope, I looked up again and saw that the darkness above me was indeed lightening a little. The sound of movement up ahead grew stronger, and the light was starting to flicker, turning from grey to a pale yellow. It had to be a person coming down the passageway and carrying a candle!

I breathed a sigh of relief that at least it was not a wild animal coming into the passageway, but at the same time came the realization that this might also be Campbell, or the man he had said he would send to check on me. Who else would remain silent all this time? If it had been a rescue team, certainly I would have heard their voices by now.

I thought quickly, and then I closed my eyes and pretended to have collapsed in a death-like faint. If Campbell or his partner had come with water to keep me alive, they would obviously try to make me drink down here. The only way I could get up to the surface was by playing unconscious - then they would be forced to bring me up out of this vile, dank pit and out into the fresh air, where they could bring me back to my senses to keep me alive.

Still, even though I knew that what I was doing was perfectly logical, it took all the effort I could muster to keep from opening my eyes or crying out in terror as the intruder, whoever it was, drew near. I fancied I could feel his presence as he looked at me, and I am certain I felt the warm air from the flame of his candle. Then I heard his breathing, and there was no doubt that he was there, and watching.

He spoke, and I felt relieved that it was not Campbell's voice, even though it sounded familiar. 'Damn! What did you do here, fall asleep?'

I felt his hands, cold and wet, touch my cheek, and despite all my self-control I shuddered slightly.

He did not seem to notice. 'Hey, passed out, did you? Wake up!'

I forced my features to stay rigidly still, and I concentrated on the voice. Where had I heard it before?

'Goddamn it, don't you want no water? You sick or somethin'?' He shook me slightly, and I allowed myself to moan into the cotton kerchiefs that still gagged my mouth. Suddenly I realized how thirsty I was. How long had I been down here?

He made a few more efforts to revive me, but the passageway was so narrow and the light so dim that he was not able to make much of an impression or scrutinize the way I reacted. Finally he gave up, just as I had hoped.

'Can't let you just lay down here. Goddamn, how we gonna do this?' He made a clumsy effort to drag me up by my collar, but the material must have slipped from his fingers. Then he tried to get one arm under my shoulder, but that gave him too awkward a position to move me. Finally he reached down for my wrists and, grasping them by the rope around them, he began to move me slowly upward, my arms above my head, pulling me as if I were a fish wiggling out of the water. The rock was rough in places and cut into my side, but I was nearly numb by now and barely noticed. I was getting out; that was all that mattered.

Finally I felt the warm, fresh air at the top of the passageway, and in another moment, after a last bone-wrenching pull, I found myself sitting upright momentarily, and then I was gently lowered on to my back amid what had to be dry leaves and grasses around the mouth of the crevasse. Though my eyes were still shut, I could tell that it was daytime. I wondered if I could risk a look at the man behind me, who was now breathing hard, getting his wind back after the effort of hauling me out.

I fluttered my eyelids, as though I were just recovering from a fainting spell, and I gave a moan that had more real feeling than pretense. I was sore all over, and I knew that when the numbness wore off I was going to hurt even more. And I felt physically weak, even though my mind, considering the ordeal I had been through, felt surprisingly calm and purposeful, ready to go through with what I knew would have to be a flawless performance.

I opened my eyes, blinking against the mud that had dried on my eyelashes, and I saw blue sky and green leaves overhead.

From behind me came the voice. 'Wakin' up, ain't we? I thought a whiff o' some good air'd bring ya around.' Then I remembered where I had heard the voice - at Legacy. This was one of Graybar's men, one of the two who had nearly caught me that first Saturday afternoon!

The memory made me shiver, which was quite absurd now, I thought. I had been much safer that afternoon than I was today! And yet I somehow had the feeling that I could manipulate this man to my advantage.

Soon he was undoing the gag around my mouth, his dirty fingers moving quickly. I saw him plainly now: it was Parsons, the dark and wiry man who had pushed me against the pine trees.

He pulled out the gag, but then he immediately clamped a grimy palm over my mouth. 'We're gonna keep quiet now, ain't we? Try screamin' for help, and I'll put you out again right quick and you won't wake up for a long time, neither. Nod if you understand.'

I nodded, sinking back weakly under the weight of his hand. When he took his hand away and I could speak, I was surprised to find that my mouth was too dry to form intelligible syllables at first. Then he held a canteen to my lips briefly and I could manage better. I asked him how long I had been down there, and I was stunned when he told me it had been less than twelve hours. It had seemed like so much longer. But he said Campbell had come by early that morning and told him he'd just left me here. 'Didn't want me to come around till this time tomorrow,' said Parsons, 'but I figgered you wasn't too strong. And you ain't gonna be much use to us dead, the way I see it.'

I shivered. 'I'm freezing,' I said. 'This dress is soaked through with that muck from down there. I think I'm coming down with a fever.' I looked at my dress and shuddered again. It was almost completely brown with the slime of the passageway and it was torn. Where would I find anything else to wear?

Then I saw the flicker of lust in his eyes as he looked me up and down, and I knew what I had to do. Now was the time that I would have to use my body. I would have to excite Parsons and make him want me. If I could cloud his judgment or win him over somehow, I might be able to escape before Campbell returned.

'I need to get warm somehow,' I said, shivering again. 'Don't you have a blanket or something warm?'

'Might at that,' he said, his teeth showing a quick grin. 'What's it worth to you?'

Later, that evening, I reflected on the decision I had made. I was a three-hour ride away from that horrible cave and the lake, inside the rustic hunter's cabin where Parsons had brought me. A fire still burned in the hearth, where he had heated a kettle of water from the nearby creek so that I could take a bath. The mud and that horrible chilled feeling were gone now. My body smelled of the rough brown laundry soap, but I was clean. I had even managed to get my hair to look more presentable. Though I was a long way from being safe, I was certainly better off here in bed with Parsons than I had been in the cave or with Campbell.

Our arrangement had been strangely businesslike, almost friendly, as though Parsons was not accustomed to playing the role of jailer. Certainly he had not been expecting me to be so tolerant of his sexual desires. I knew he considered Sam Rawlings's daughter to be far different from the women he was accustomed to - and certainly I continued to act that way in speech and bearing. Yet the fact that I could at the same time know his own wants - which, after all, were not so different from what I had learned in order to please Steven - seemed to make him feel, or act, oddly vulnerable. His dark, saturnine face, not entirely unattractive, began to lose some of its hardness, and at times he seemed self-conscious, even a little proud of the prize he had brought home.

And as he lay beside me on the bed now, dozing peacefully after having exerted himself for the second time since we had come into the cabin, I found it difficult to imagine that this same man was holding me captive, waiting for that hideous Campbell to return with the ransom money.

Yet he had certainly been careful to take precautions against my escape. To begin with, I had no clothes here in the cabin. When I got out of bed I draped myself in a woolen blanket, for my dress, my petticoat, my chemise, and my shoes were all outside - a good deal cleaner after I had scrubbed them in the washtub, to be sure, but still outside. I could hardly make a sudden dash for freedom without them, and even if I had entertained such a foolish notion, Parsons had securely fastened the door with several tight-fitting wedges. It took several minutes of noisy tapping and twisting to get outside, during which time Parsons would be certain to wake up, even from a deep sleep.

And if I were to escape, assuming I was able somehow to make off with his horse, where would I go? I had no idea how far we had come from the lake. From the sun, I thought we had been riding in a northwest direction most of the way, but I had no idea how near was the nearest town or telegraph outpost let alone where the nearest railway or wagon road was. Certainly we had passed none of these on our way here, none that I had seen. As far as I knew, the nearest habitation was the Eagles Mere hotel, and that was the direction Campbell would be coming from when he returned from Grampian.

Somehow, though, I knew I had to get away before Campbell's return. It was at that point that he would need some proof that I was still alive, if he was going to use proof at all. After he forced me to write whatever letter or signature he intended to use as evidence that I was still able to be ransomed, I would be of no further use to him. At that point any move I made to escape would doubtless be met with death - they might even kill me, anyway, just so I would not be able to identify them.