A Season Beyond a Kiss (32 page)

The rising of the sun banished the relative coolness of night, and the temperatures began to climb steadily. Mosquitoes swarmed in abundance around them, as did the pesky gnats. Majestic shied uneasily beneath their relentless attacks, but the stallion obeyed Jeff’s nudging knees and continued on valiantly.

During his boyhood years, Jeff had frequented the swamps with Brandon and had grown up with a keen knowledge of them, as well as a well-warranted respect. Together he and his brother had learned the best spots for hunting and fishing and, over a period of time, had become acquainted with the human inhabitants of the marsh who, for one reason or another, preferred to remain aloof from ordinary society. An old recluse known as Red Pete had seemed ancient when Jeff had been nothing more than a lad. When Jeff drew rein in front of the wooden shack the man called home, the place looked deserted, but that was to be expected. Like his few neighbors, Red Pete was cautious about company and would hide out until reasonably assured that it was safe to make an appearance. Jeff chewed on a strand of sweet grass as he waited. A slight movement in the trees behind the shack finally affirmed the presence of his host.

An old man with a face like a shriveled apple emerged and looked his visitor over carefully with narrowly squinting eyes. Dressed in what had all the appearances of being rags topped off by an elaborately embroidered waistcoat, the ancient limped forward on a pearl-handled cane. “Thought I’d be seein’ ye sooner or later, Jeffrey. How ye been keepin’?”

In spite of his years, Red Pete still looked fit, Jeff thought. As yet, the carrot-hued hair, for which the man had come by his name, showed no signs of dulling.

“Tolerably well,” Jeff drawled.

“An’ that there brother o’ yourn’s, he doin’ all right?”

“Better than ever. Brandon is going to be a father again in a month or two.”

“Good for him.” Red Pete chortled and scratched his shirted chest with a hairy hand. “Heard he’d got hisself a right fine li’l gal o’er there in England. Ye settled down, too, kind of?”

Jeff’s brows lifted briefly in a noncommittal answer. It was that “
kind of”
which led Jeff to surmise that some word of his present circumstances had reached even out here in the swamps. That was hardly a surprise. In spite of their reclusive lifestyle, Red Pete and his kind had always seemed remarkably well informed about the happenings in Charleston and on the plantations roundabout.

“I expect you know by now that I’m searching for my wife,” Jeff replied. “Seen anything of her?”

Red Pete spit a long stream of tobacco juice in the general direction of a tree stump and shook his head. “Not a hair, but I seen Elijah last night. He was trackin’ for ye, he said.”

Jeff inclined his head in a slow nod. “I sent him out to see what he could find of a horse thief. Is he having any luck?”

“Reckon so. Said a man named Hyde was on horseback ahead o’ him for awhile, makin’ tracks easily seen, like maybe somethin’ had scared him. Then it looked ta Elijah like the man got hisself thrown ’bout two, maybe three miles from here. The horse run off, an’ Hyde continued on foot, but he ‘peared ta be movin’ kinda slow, like he’d been hurt some. Elijah was stayin’ on his trail.”

“Good man Elijah. Maybe I’ll come across the mare somewhere up ahead. In the meantime, if you happen to see my wife, I’d appreciate it if you’d persuade her to stay with you for a spell, at least until I can get back this way.”

Red Pete nodded. “I’ll do my best, Jeffrey. Ye happen ta know if’n she likes corn fritters?”

Jeff inclined his head in a slow nod. “I believe she has a passing fondness for them.”

“I’ll make a batch then. She’s liable ta be right hungry by the time she gets back around this way.”

Jeff sincerely hoped that hunger was the only problem his wife was experiencing after spending two nights on higher ground, the third evening in the swamp, but without elaborating, he thanked Red Pete for his concern and took his leave.

The marsh closed in around Jeff once again, slowing his pace. The drone of insects increased, as did the heat. He pressed on, pausing only to give Majestic a chance to drink, and then resumed his search. The sun had reached its zenith and began its descent before he finally perceived some hope for his success.

  
  R
AELYNN HAD DESCENDED FROM THE TREE SHORTLY
after dawn. She was stiff, sore, and so completely exhausted that she was unable to differentiate between tensed muscles and utter fatigue. She was also very thirsty, but there was only stagnant water to be had, and she had no desire to start heaving up her stomach again. By the time it occurred to her to sip the morning dew that had collected on the larger leaves during the night, the moisture had all but evaporated. She found enough for a swallow or two, but it hardly sufficed. Of food, she couldn’t even bring herself to think. Although there were many plants around her, she lacked the knowledge to discern the difference between those that were edible and others that were poisonous, and she wasn’t about to tempt fate. Hunger wouldn’t kill her, at least not so quickly, but trying to satisfy it just might.

As the day wore on, Raelynn’s weariness, thirst, and appetite steadily increased. The heavy canopy of trees and twisting vines rising up to lofty levels protected her from the worst of the sun, but the stifling heat made her feel as if she were plodding through thick molasses.

Just how far she progressed through the difficult maze was a mystery. The vines covering the ground continued to entangle her feet, and she grew increasingly weary of stumbling and falling. The blisters were excruciating. Only by gathering Spanish moss from the lower branches of the trees and stuffing small portions into her stockings was she able to gain some measure of relief from the stinging discomfort. To protect the bones in her ankles and feet from possible breakage, she tore long strips from her petticoat and wound them first about her slippered feet and then up around her ankles. The bandages lent much-needed support, yet in spite of efforts to ease her plight, Raelynn realized she was feeling positively wretched, to a degree she had never experienced before. Weary, footsore, thirsty and all too vividly aware of the burning emptiness of her stomach, she was greatly tempted to dismiss her resolve and just sit down and cry. At the moment, however, her spine was too stiff to yield to any degree of bending, sitting or lounging.

Raelynn slogged wearily on through the marshes, knowing that if she stopped, she’d likely give up entirely. A gentle wind sprang up, and even in her predicament, she found it refreshing. It certainly kept the mosquitoes at bay.

In the midst of her despair, the soft nicker of a horse seemed nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Even so, she staggered to a halt and glanced about, desperately praying that someone had come to her rescue, yet fearing her ears had deceived her.

Sweeter by far than the wafting breezes was the sight of Ariadne lazily nibbling on a distant knoll of grass. Immediately Raelynn’s heart lifted from the dark morass that had threatened to drag her down. She had no idea what miracle had brought the mare into the swamp, but words could not express the joy she now felt at seeing her.

The mare shook her head briskly to chase away the insects and, for a moment, eyed Raelynn. Unconcerned by the presence of this human, she went back to grazing.

Cautiously Raelynn approached with a trembling hand extended as she cajoled the animal to stand very still and to
please
be especially nice. Amazingly, when she reached out and stroked her along the withers, the mare didn’t shy away.

“Oh, Ariadne, I can’t believe it is you,” Raelynn murmured, her voice choked by grateful tears. “What are you doing so far away from home?” She supposed that if the mare had been able to speak and reason, she might have been inclined to ask her the same question. “I know, Ariadne. We both ran away, and now the pair of us are lost in this infernal bog. I’m beginning to think I was better off where I was. What about you?”

Ariadne continued chomping on the grass, caring little for human deductions or regrets. Raelynn ran a gentle hand over the horse, searching for injuries, but found no evidence of any that were serious. It was obvious, however, that the mosquitoes and gnats had recently feasted on her. Almost a solid layer of tiny welts had been raised beneath the mare’s coat.

While Ariadne nibbled contentedly on the grass, Raelynn dragged over a small, broken section of a log to use as a mounting block. Gently patting the mare’s neck, she cajoled her in soothing tones, praying all the while the animal would prove tractable and stand submissively still while she hauled herself astride.

Surprisingly Ariadne seemed a good sport about it all, but Raelynn hadn’t forgotten Jeff’s reluctance to let her ride the headstrong steed and gingerly settled herself upon the mare’s back. Being without a saddle was strange enough, but sitting astraddle wasn’t very comfortable without some form of cushioning. She twitched, trying to stuff her chemise underneath her to protect the vulnerable areas. Whether her movements disturbed the horse or it was just Ariadne’s temperament to be cantankerous, Raelynn soon learned that Jeff’s misgivings had been well warranted. Without warning, the mare started bucking and crow-hopping in a circle, sending her rider sailing off into a stagnant pool. The putrid collection of water certainly saved Raelynn a few injuries, but she came up retching from the awful stench of it. The only positive thing about having an empty stomach was the fact that she had nothing to heave up. There she sat in total misery, tears and muddied hair streaming down her face, clothes soaked through with stinking slime, and hips and calves deep in fetid muck. At that precise moment, Raelynn was certain she was the very epitome of everything repulsive.

“Oh, why did I ever leave England?” she moaned dejectedly and began to sob in woeful lament.

If it served as some consolation, Ariadne came over and nuzzled her hair, but Raelynn wasn’t willing to accept the steed’s apologies without venting a good measure of her wrath upon her. “Get away from me, you ornery nag!” she railed, her voice fraught with tears. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll see you harnessed to a plow!”

Raelynn considered staying where she was, for it would only cost her more pain if she tried moving, but hunger and thirst were very strong incentives indeed. Wincing, she pushed herself to her feet, slipping and sliding until finally she managed to extricate herself from the stink-hole. Bestowing a baleful glare upon the mare, she caught her by the ear and thrust a warning finger before those large, beautiful eyes.

“Now listen very carefully, Ariadne,” she ground out through gnashing teeth. “I’m very tired, I’m very lost, I’m very irate with you, so if you have any care for your carcass, you’ll allow me to mount you, and then you will take me out of this smelly swamp. Do you understand me?” The mare tried to lift her head, but Raelynn held her firmly by the ear. “If you don’t mind your manners, I swear, Ariadne, you
will
become a workhorse, and I assure you, my pretty filly, you won’t like that in the least.”

Raelynn was sure she was becoming a bit addled, threatening the steed as she was doing, but she really didn’t care. What she truly wanted right then and there was a hot bath so she could take a deep breath without smelling herself.

Clasping a handful of the flowing mane, Raelynn drew the mare back to the broken log, stepped atop it, and dragged herself once again onto the horse’s back. Clinging to the mane, she waited an interminable length of time for Ariadne to repeat her earlier performance and, after being reassured of the mare’s compliance to some extent, turned her in what Raelynn fervently prayed was the right direction. They walked for a lengthy space before Raelynn allowed herself to relax slightly. Still, she wasn’t of a mind to trust the steed overly much and kept a tenacious grip on the mane.

After plodding over torturous terrain for untold hours, the luxury of a smooth ride didn’t escape Raelynn’s notice. In spite of her unpredictable disposition, Ariadne had an easy flowing stride, for which Raelynn became most appreciative. She was grateful for several other things which the ride afforded, to be off her feet for one thing, and for another, to be sitting above the brambles and thorns that had relentlessly rent her skin and garments.

The breezes that had sprung up earlier had strengthened, bringing with them a refreshing coolness that did much to buoy Raelynn’s spirits. For a few moments she even had hopes of surviving her horrendous folly, that is, until she happened to notice that the marsh was becoming progressively gloomier.

Peering up through the lofty trees, Raelynn felt her heart sink and new fears congeal in her chest. The winds she had briefly relished were pushing ominous thunderclouds across the sky. Even as she watched in mingled surprise and dismay, a jagged streak of lightning tore across the sky. A moment later a stinging rain began to pelt her.

A groan of despair slipped from Raelynn’s lips as she thumped her heels against the mare’s flanks to urge her out of the punishing downpour. Ariadne responded readily, quickening her pace, but the heavy, wet soil of the bog clung to her hooves, impeding her progress. Their passage was further thwarted by the torrent of rain unleashed upon them. They could barely see, much less move any measurable distance. In barely a fraction of a moment Raelynn’s clothes became so thoroughly drenched that they were soon plastered like second skins to her body.