Married At Midnight (33 page)

* * *

Raelynn stood in a shadowed corner of the cluttered warehouse apartment and watched in darkly brooding silence as Gustav tipped a jug of whiskey to his mouth and gulped down a long draught. The doctor, an elderly gentleman with white hair and

a small neat mustache and beard, was in a highly agitated state of irritation when they arrived and was not above verbally venting some of that frustration upon his patient.

"I told you before, Gustav! Now it's evident that I'll have to tell you again! I'm tired of patching you up!"

he ranted. "No

sooner do I get you sewn up and on your feet again, than you're off battling some other rascal. You'd better start considering the dangers of associating with riffraff or learn to rein in your temper while you're among them. Or one of these days your

men will be bringing you back in a pine box."

"Leave off zhe preaching," Gustav muttered irascibly. "I hurt too much to take it kindly."

The physician snorted in contempt. "Well, I don't mean it kindly at all! I told you the last time I patched you up that I was fed up with being summoned here! If you foolishly ignore my advice, then I don't want anything more to do with you!"

"Yu fix my arm zhis time. Next time maybe I vill listen."

"Not likely!" Dr. Clarence scoffed. Still, he cut away the bloody shirt with gentle concern and carefully examined the wound. Then he voiced his prognosis with a heavy sigh of exasperation. "The ball will have to come out, of course. Otherwise, 'twill poison your blood. If that happens, you'll likely lose your arm ...

or your life. I'll have to remove it without delay, plus

whatever loose splinters of bone I can find."

"You tell me nothing I do not know already!" Gustav growled. "Get on vith it!"

"You'd have fared better if the shot had gone clear through your shoulder," Dr. Clarence prodded.

"Just do vhat you must. I'll not abide zhe loss of
mein
arm."

"Better the loss of your arm than your life." Raelynn mentally jeered at the wise counsel.
If not for this
brutish oaf,
she

wanted to scream at the doctor,
my husband would still be alive and I'd be safe in his arms!
In silent hostility she scanned Gustav's massive, barrel chest as she remembered her husband's tautly muscled torso that only a few short eons ago she had been admiring.

Tears filled her eyes as a vision of Jeff lying on the stairs with his life's blood flowing from him came back to haunt her. The

truth chafed accusingly as it turned inward. Jeff would still be alive if not for her. In agreeing to marry him, she had brought the sentence of death upon him. She could not even hope for a child to remember him by. Although definitely more mature in her knowledge of men since she awoke that morning, she was still a virgin, a fact which could only be attributed to Jeff's gentle care of her.

And now, this was to be her punishment. She would be the plaything of this foul, despicable brute who knew no kinder emotion than lust and greed. He would ravish her, having no care how he bruised and violated her. Her only quest in life now would be to see him die, not swiftly but a slow torturous death, for surely that was how she would suffer for leading this monster to Jeff.

Gustav's harsh scream wrenched Raelynn from her musings, seeming to fulfill her wishful bent. At present, three of Gustav's men were holding him down on the mattress as the doctor probed the wound with

metal instruments. Quietly she moved forward to stand at the end of the bed, and when her eyes met Gustav's, he ground his teeth to subdue another outcry and shuddered in silence against the anguishing torment.

"How brave you are, Gustav," Raelynn chided tauntingly. "Indeed, you squall as loudly as a babe who's lost his sugar-sop."

Dr. Clarence glanced at her in surprise, convinced that Gustav had chosen a cold-hearted bit of baggage to wile away his

nights with. Then he followed her penetrating glare back to his patient. Her hatred was almost tangible, which he could not as yet understand. For all he knew, she had come willingly to the warehouse apartment. But then, if one cared to take note, the young man, Olney Hyde, seemed to hover threateningly near her.

"Make yourself useful, girl," Dr. Clarence ordered, piercing her with a scowl before he jerked his head toward the jug of whiskey. "Wash away some of this blood with that brew."

Raelynn raked Gustav's paunchy form with a contemptuous perusal, then she raised a bland stare to the doctor. "Why

should I?"

In the next moment Olney grabbed her arm in a painful vise and pressed the bore of a pistol against her temple.

" 'Cause if'n ye don't, ye red-headed tart, ye're gonna be layin' six feet under."

At the metallic scrape of the weapon's hammer being drawn back, Raelynn's blood chilled in her veins.

Death was only a heartbeat away, yet the memory of her slain husband made her consider the benefits of her own demise. At least her conscience would no longer accuse her.

Lifting her slender shoulders in a challenging mood of indifference, Raelynn sneered in the face of his threat. "Better that than bedding down with the filthy boar."

For a split second, Olney stared down at her in slack-jawed amazement, never having seen a man, much less a woman, who could scoff so easily with a cocked pistol pressed to the head.

Dr. Clarence straightened indignantly. "Put that damn cannon down before it blows a hole through that girl's head!" he rumbled in outrage. "Or so help me, I'll let this man die beneath my scalpel!"

"Olney! Do vhat he
says!" Gustav barked. Snatching up the jug again, he swilled down several more gulps in an effort to dull his senses, shaking all the while against the agony that raked him.

With an indolent shrug of his shoulders, Olney relented and lifted the bore of the pistol away from Raelynn's head. Mimicking

a courtly bow, he stepped back several paces, giving her breathing room.

"If you're not too squeamish, girl," Dr. Clarence persisted impatiently, "I could use your help."

Raelynn swept a hand about the room, indicating the half-dozen scamps who stood around guzzling from their own jugs. "I'm sure these men are far more willing to see Herr Fridrich survive than I am. I was married tonight and that German oaf killed my husband before bringing me here to this den of murdering thieves. Tis only a matter of time before I take my revenge, and if I help you, I'll do everything I can to see that Gustav doesn't last through the night."

Gustav snorted through his pain. "Maybe I let my men have you first, eh Frau Birmingham."

"Birmingham?" Dr. Clarence repeated incredulously. Glancing at the German and then at Raelynn, he gruffly demanded,

"Do you mean to say, girl, that you married Jeffrey Birmingham this evening and that he is now dead?"

Sudden tears brightened Raelynn's eyes as she nodded. "Gustav and his men broke into Oakley Plantation house and shot

him while I was upstairs."

With a muttered curse, Dr. Clarence threw down the scalpel and began to pace about the room in deepening perturbation. "Thirty-odd years ago, I brought Jeff Birmingham into this world. I was sent for when they discovered he was breech. His mother valiantly endured the pain to give life to her babe. Since then, I've seen few men who could equal the worth of the Birminghams. Now you tell me Jeff has been killed and I must tend the wounds of his murderer! Devil take you all, you filthy rodents! I will not!"

Gustav's eyes shot bolts of fire at the doctor. The pain in his shoulder was of far more consequence to him than the slaying of Jeff or any discomfort the girl might have felt over the loss of her new husband.

With an angry snarl and a snap of his fingers, Gustav sent Olney back to Raelynn's side with the flintlock.

Once again, the weapon was pressed to her temple and the hammer pulled back. "The girl vill die,
Doktor,
if you do not mend my shoulder. And I promise you this, if Olney kills her, I vill kill you." Dr. Clarence glowered back at him for a moment. Then, having no other choice, he nodded once in mute acquiescence. Taking up the instruments again, he waited until the pistol was raised from Raelynn's head and then bent to

his labors again.

Gustav lost consciousness as the ball was removed. Several pieces of splintered bone were taken out as well. It was then

that Raelynn consented to give aid, but only to wipe the elderly doctor's brow. Even so, Olney stood close behind her,

ready to take her life if the scalpel slipped.

At last, the wound was closed and dressed in a heavy bandage that bound the arm tightly against the German's side. Gustav roused briefly while this was being done, but he was in so much pain he was eager to swallow the draught of laudanum which the old man spooned into his mouth. When the German slipped into the nether depths of slumber, Dr. Clarence began to gather his tools.

"I'm going home to clean up," he informed Gustav's men, "but I'll be back in two hours to check on him.

If the bleeding

starts again, send a rider over to fetch me, but let me warn you men. If I should find the girl harmed in any way upon my

return, Gustav will rot in his own gore, that much I promise you."

* * *

Dr. Clarence made his departure, reluctantly leaving Raelynn behind to watch over her captor. Though his home was no more than five blocks away, it seemed a thousand miles had been traversed before he finally pulled his horse-drawn buggy

to a halt near the stable and climbed down. "Dr. Clarence?"

The old man squinted as he peered into the shadows from whence the voice had come. He had cause to be apprehensive,

for it was the second time in a few hours that a voice had called to him from the darkness. He could only consider the consequences to Raelynn if someone else had dictated that he be taken elsewhere. "Who is it? What do you want?"

"We need your help, Dr. Clarence." The voice came again from the deep gloom, and the doctor watched warily as a pair of tall, darkly garbed men approached. They passed through a mottled patch of moonlight shining through the branches of a towering oak, prompting Dr. Clarence to gawk in disbelief as he recognized the leaner one of the two. "Jeffrey Birmingham! What great miracle is this? I was told you were dead."

"He very nearly was," Brandon Birmingham answered ruefully, laying a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"He's got a deep

gash in his head from a lead ball to prove it."

"We need your help, Dr. Clarence," Jeff repeated as he halted beside the elder. "You've got to tell us where they've taken

my wife, Raelynn."

"I'll gladly tell you, Jeff," Dr. Clarence readily replied, "but the two of you can't go after those thugs alone.

You'll both be killed!"

"We have seven mounted riders hidden in the trees behind your house, and hopefully another dozen or so will be coming with the sheriff. We sent word on ahead, so Rhys will know how many of Gustav's men we'll be facing. It all depends on how

many deputies he's been able to summon at this time of the morning."

"They'll kill Raelynn if you're not careful," the old doctor cautioned. "They forced me to mend Gustav's shoulder by holding a pistol to her head. That young whelp, Olney, might do it just for the sheer pleasure of killing someone. I heard some scuttlebutt about him being the one who shot you, Jeff. Believe me, he's as dangerous as a coiled rattler."

"If Olney kills her, then he'll have to answer to Gustav," Jeff reasoned, "and I don't think he wants to do that. It might mean

his life. When do they expect you to return?"

"In two hours or less."

"Tell us where they're hiding," Brandon urged. "We'll need to know as much about the place as you can offer, then we'll be

able to lay out a plan."

"You two should know the place. They're at old Milburn's warehouse, just a few blocks from here."

"I thought they'd be hiding out somewhere else,"

Jeff remarked.

"When Gustav has an army of men always around to protect him, why should he be afraid that someone will disturb him in

his den?" Dr. Clarence reasoned. "Besides, the man has as many lives as a cat."

"We're familiar with the warehouse," Brandon informed the surgeon. "In fact, Jeff almost purchased it at

one time, but he decided it was too far away from the docks to be of much benefit for the shipping trade."

"Gustav has taken residence in an apartment that he's created for himself on the ground level of the warehouse," Dr. Clarence advised them. "Most of his men will probably be in there with him, but you can expect there will be several guards watching

for trouble on the outside."

Jeff faced Dr. Clarence as a strategy began to take shape in his mind. "After you return and finish with Gustav, try to stand

near the door with Raelynn. When you hear a soft bird chirp from outside, suggest that she'll feel better after a breath of air. Insist upon it. If Gustav is awake, ask him if she can go for a walk outside. As long as he thinks his men are guarding the

place and can watch over her, he should give his consent. By that time, I hope I'll have replaced his sentries with some of

our own men."

Dr. Clarence rubbed his bearded chin reflectively. "Your plan might work if all goes well. At least it will allow me to get Raelynn out before any gunshots are fired."

A flash of white teeth gleamed in the moonlit gloom as Jeff grinned. "And I'll be there at the door to whisk her to safety."

Dr. Clarence laid a hand on his arm. "Just remember, lad. Raelynn thinks you're dead. It will be quite a shock for her when

she sees you."

"I'll try not to frighten her unduly," Jeff assured him. Facing the doctor's house, he contemplated the large striped cat that sat preening himself on the front porch and quickly added the finishing touches to his plan.

"Do you mind if we borrow that old tomcat of yours?"

"Felix?" Dr. Clarence was confused by the request but readily complied. "You're welcome to him, Jeff.

But why?"

"Felix just might create the kind of diversion we'll need to get the guards' attention, especially if the cat is being chased by the sheriff's hound. We'll also need that muzzle you once fashioned to fit over Felix's head when he was meowing after every

female cat in town."

Dr. Clarence glanced at Brandon, who was just as baffled, but after a moment the physician suddenly found reason to chortle. "I pity Townsend's hound if he catches Felix. That old cat has been known to tear up quite a few mongrels in his time."

His comment drew chuckles from the other two, but Jeff went on to reassure him. "Townsend has a special whistle that brings the dog back to him at a run. If all goes well, neither of the animals will get hurt."

"I'm not worried, Jeff. I know you'll take care of Felix. He's always enjoyed the tidbits you've brought him on your visits." The elder grew serious. "But I do fear for you and your friends. I've made several trips to the warehouse to tend Gustav and his men, and at various times I noticed long crates stacked way back in the warehouse almost to the ceiling, the sort that muzzle-loaders and such are shipped in. It wouldn't surprise me at all to learn that Gustav has set up a large armory for himself inside the warehouse.

He certainly has enough men to use whatever weapons he may have amassed. You could start a war,

you know."

"Once Raelynn is safe, the sheriff can deal with Gustav and his men as he sees fit," Jeff replied. "There's been some talk lately about smugglers in the area. Townsend may decide to look through the warehouse, just to see what he can find."

The old man thumped Jeff's chest gently with an aging forefinger as he chuckled. "Advise your friend to have a close look at

my patient while he's there. Gustav could stand a long rest in jail to recuperate from his wounds.

Considering the frequency

of his injuries, he might live longer if he's locked away."

"I'm sure Townsend will do what he can to accommodate your request. He's as curious about Gustav as we are."

Dr. Clarence grew solemn again. "Gustav isn't what you'd call a forgiving sort, Jeff. If you manage to get Raelynn back, he'll likely come after her again ... if he isn't put away."

"I intend to see that he is," Jeff assured the physician. "If Gustav's not a smuggler, then at the very least he's a kidnapper."

" 'Twill only be a matter of time before he's out again, then what?"

"I just might have to kill the man myself."