Love Me Always (35 page)

Slowly, she straightened and walked forward. With each step toward the door, she gained control of her weakened body. Soon, she’d be downstairs and finding something to eat. In order to leave this hell, she needed to get food in her body fast. She also must pack a few things. Not much. Since she planned on traveling by horse, there were only a few things she could bring.

She found her warmest cloak and slipped on her boots. She rolled a blanket as tight as she could to take with her.

The cottage remained quiet as she tiptoed to the kitchen. She found bread, cheese and apples. This would do for now.

Eating like a starved person, she chopped the apple as fast as she could and in between bites stuffed pieces of bread in her mouth. Slowly, her strength returned, but dizziness still threatened to topple her over. She’d just have to take small steps on her way to the stable to saddle her horse.

Why was her head spinning like she’s been twirling for hours? This was the way she’d felt the time she’d awoken after her father was beaten... And right after her mother died. Tears pricked her eyes again as confusion filled her. She didn’t have her mother’s madness, so why did she feel so strangely?

With each step she listened for her father’s voice, took deep breaths to smell his leathery scent if he were nearby, and kept her gaze alert. The evening wind whipped her hair around her face, and she pushed the fly away lock aside.

Her heartbeat quickened the nearer she came to the stable. Shadows appeared around every section surrounding the structure – the trees, bushes, and sides of the building. She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress then grasped her shaky hands together. Taking deep breaths, she tried to regulate her ragged breaths.

Almost there.

Inside the stable, the horses moved, their hooves knocking against the wooden walls as they snorted and neighed. The hammer of her heartbeat slowly drowned out all other sounds.

She hurried to her sidesaddle, lifted it and brought it to her horse. Using a shaky voice, she cooed gentle words to the animal, while fumbling with the straps as she adjusted everything into place.

A shuffle whispered behind her and she swung around. Into the shadows she peered, waiting for the one person she feared more than life itself to make himself known. But the longer she stared, the more she realized the wind had been playing tricks on her. Perhaps her father wasn’t here after all.

Slowly, she turned to the horse and finished fastening the buckles. The mare nudged her shoulder with his nose.

She petted his neck. “It’s all right, Meadowlark. We’ll be gone in no time.”

Pausing in mid stroke, she bit her bottom lip. Where would she go? She didn’t know her way to the estate. And if she did, it would take her a day and a half to get there. Perhaps she should ride to the nearest town and find somebody who would take pity on her. From there she could send a letter to Nick.

She released a deep breath. Would Nick even care? Gregg would...and Gregg would certainly save her from her father.

With that in mind, she grasped the reins and led the horse out of the stable. From down the hill a sound jarred her from her thoughts and she stopped. A woman’s whimper had drifted on the wind. Catherine’s heart lodged in her throat, turning it dry. No other woman lived on the property. Who could it be? Was it indeed a woman’s cry or some trapped animal?

Dismissing it from her head, she continued in her pursuit, but the weep came again, this time louder. She squeezed her eyes closed and leaned her forehead against the horse’s neck. The dizziness consumed her mind gradually, and she wanted to close her eyes and sleep. She struggled to keep alert.

The sound came again, sounding like a woman’s cry this time. Catherine had to be hearing things. There couldn’t be a woman sobbing down the slope toward the stream. Yet...if someone was hurt, she had to help.

Opening her eyes, she swung away from the horse. Dizziness washed over her, making the world tilt. She clung to the animal before toppling over. What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she eaten enough to gain her strength – at least a portion of it? Yet with each step toward the voice crying for help, the fog in her head thickened. No! She mustn’t give into the darkness creeping upon her.

She made her way past a group of trees, down a hill-bank, toward the stream. The muffling grew louder...and the lightheadedness reached throughout her body, threatening to succumb to the murkiness in her mind. The loud whap of a strap hitting something solid rang through the air, and the crying increased. Catherine’s chest tightened. She hurried toward the sound, stumbling on her way.

As she reached the clearing, she stumbled over something large lying still on the ground. As she focused, she recognized her father. Blood spilled from his head; a gash in his skull – just like her mother. His skin white as death.

Tears swelled in her eyes the longer she stared. This couldn’t be right! Why was he dead? If he was the one killing everyone, then why…

She heard the whip snap again, louder this time, which pulled her attention toward the stream. The tall figure of Hodgson stood with his back toward her. In his hand a whip, and on the ground...
Oh, no!
A woman.

Shadows danced around the woman, hiding her true identity. Would Catherine even know who it was in the light of day since welts had raised high on the tortured woman’s face? Ropes tied her hands behind her and were fastened to her ankles.

Even through Catherine’s fuzzy mind, reality sank in. Hodgson was the one whipping the woman – not her father. Catherine couldn’t stop the gasp springing forth. She quickly covered her mouth, hoping she wasn’t heard.

Too late.

Hodgson swung around and faced her. His eyes widened and in three long strides he stood before her, raising the whip to strike her. Catherine squeezed her eyes closed, but he didn’t deliver the blow. Peeking through slit eyelids, he stood still. Blood rushed throughout her body as if in a race to leave. A throb beat through her head, and her heartbeat knocked against her ribs, threatening to break them.

Hodgson lowered the strip of leather and brought it behind his back. His jaw hardened as his gaze pierced through her.

“Catherine? Why are you out this late in the evening? I thought you were sleeping.”

She blinked, hoping her blurred vision would clear. “Hodgson? Is that all you have to say?”

He shrugged. “You think I should say more?”

“What happened to my father?”

“Your father deserved to die, my dear. He was an abusive man and never believed in your innocence.”

“But...you are not his judge. God is.”

“I thought differently.”

She nodded toward the woman on the ground. “And what about...her?”

“What about her?” He glanced at the cowering figure.

“What...are you doing?”

“I’m punishing her, if you must know. She disobeyed the Lord, and so she must pay for her sins.”

“But...but...” Tears stung Catherine’s eyes. “It’s not up to you to punish her. That’s between her and the Lord.”

The beaten woman lifted her wobbly head and looked at her. “Cath—rrine,” she rasped.

Catherine sucked in another quick breath. “Mrs. Berkley?” Her chest clenched and she looked back at Hodgson. “What have you done?”

She moved toward her companion to give some aide, but her father’s servant stepped in her path.

“Leave us,” he commanded. “You should not watch the way I handle the Lord’s rebellious children.”

Rubbing her throbbing temple, she shook her head. “Hodgson, why are you acting this way?”

“Your grandfather taught me about God before he died. I know what I’m doing. I’m punishing the Lord’s unworthy children.”

She shook her head. “Hodgson, you are insane.”

He let out a growl mere seconds before the back of his hand connected with her face. She reeled backward and fell to the earth. Pain shot through her, not only in her cheek, but also through every bone in her body. The dizziness in her head thickened moment by moment, threatening to engulf her very soul.

Struggling, she lifted her heavy eyelids and glared at the man she once loved like a father. “What has Mrs. Berkley ever done to you? For that matter, what did Mary ever do to you?”

His gaze widened. “Mary?”

“Did…did you kill Mary?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand. Why did Mary deserve to die?”

“She was just a pawn in Grant’s life.” Hodgson’s attention narrowed, his mouth pinched in a scowl. “Grant does
not
deserve happiness.”

Catherine gasped. “But...Grant is dead.”

He nodded. “The good Lord directed my hands when I loosened the wheel on Nick’s coach. I knew Grant’s weak heart would give out once his beloved nephew was dead.”

“No!” She sobbed, covering her mouth.

“Grant didn’t deserve love. He took it from me, so I took it from him.”

She tried blinking away the tears, but they filled her eyes and ran down her face. “Why?” Her voice shook.

He reached down and gripped her arm. “You were supposed to be
my
daughter! Both Grant and your father stole your mother’s love from me.” Hodgson shook her hard. “That’s why I had to kill her, too. I wanted everyone to think it was you, though, so I could continue with my revenge. I even laced your drink tonight with a sleeping draught...but it didn’t seem to have worked as well this time as it usually does.”

“No.” She sniffed, her heart breaking more. “How could you do such a thing? I loved you. Mother, Father and I – I – loved you.”

“Your father didn’t love me.”

“He must have.” She pleaded. “Don’t you see? Father knew it was
you
who beat him the other night, not me. Yet he didn’t say anything. He let everyone believe I was the one who had gone insane.”

“I had given your father the same sleeping draught I gave you. The medicine didn’t work on your father like I’d hoped it would.”

“But…what about my mother? She loved you, as well.”

“Sophia coupled with Satan himself,” Hodgson snapped, yanking Catherine to her feet. “Which is why you must die also. You have coupled with Satan’s son, and you may be carrying his child. For that, you will be punished.”

“Hodgson, you are wrong. I would not do such a thing unless with my husband.” She struggled to free her arm, but her body continued to weaken as a hazy fog filled her head. She would certainly die by this man’s hand. Hopefully, it would be painless...and go quickly.

He dragged her to the stream and pushed her in. She fell to her hands and knees, the water only coming up to her elbows. The cold water brought her more alert than she’d been a moment ago, but it didn’t make the dizziness disappear.

As her head swam in confusion, Hodgson’s voice echoed through the night, repeating scripture after scripture. She didn’t have the strength to counter him. Nor did she have the strength to fight...but she must. Yet her damp dress threatened to drag her further into the water and take her under. Small waves thrashed against her body and she swayed.

He stepped closer and raised his arm, the black whip flashing through the night like a spirit from hell. She closed her eyes, praying death would come soon and save her from this agony.

Hodgson’s voice grew louder. The moment of pain would soon be upon her. Instead, over the wind in the distance came another sound. Men’s voices lifted in anger. Then the pop of a pistol as it fired.

Mrs. Berkley screamed.

Catherine opened her eyes. Hodgson had stopped quoting the Bible. With his stare fixed on her, he staggered forward. The hand holding the whip sagged to his side and the piece of leather dropped to the dirt. Color washed from his face. Blood oozed from his chest.

Before he reached the water, he glanced over his shoulder. She followed his gaze. Shadows through the trees crawled toward her at a remarkable speed. Tall. Large like men. Two of them. Their voices shouting. Panicked.

Nick?

Her heavy eyelids closed again, and she couldn’t fight the blackness taking over her mind.

Epilogue

Nick cradled Catherine’s small hand in his, stroking her soft skin with his thumb. Love burst in his chest. His bride faced him and gazed into his eyes. The smile stretched from ear-to-ear probably matched the one he wore.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Her smile grew, and his mouth ached from holding his grin for so long.

Upon the preacher’s instructions, Nick leaned forward and kissed his wife. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. Behind them, applause broke out along with shouts and whistles, knowing it came from his brothers.

Laughing, he pulled away. She, too, chuckled with him while twin spots of pink colored her cheeks.

“I love you,” he mouthed.

“I love you, too,” she repeated.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually made it to this point. Several weeks ago, he’d thought all hope was gone. At that time, it had been.

He brushed his fingers across her chin, briefly caressing her lips with his thumb. She cuddled against his hand. To think he’d almost lost her. If he and Gregg had reached her even five minutes later that night, Hodgson would have whipped Catherine to death. Thankfully, it only took one bullet from Nick’s pistol to bring the servant down. Hodgson would never touch her again. The good Lord would have to deal with the madman now – and rightly so.