Elusive Hope (40 page)

He sighed. “But it never worked, did it?” Drawing a flask from inside his waistcoat, he tipped it toward her. “Scotch?”

Magnolia licked her lips and looked away.

Unscrewing the cap, he took a sip. “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, dearest, perhaps we can start over?” He slipped the flask back into his pocket. “Begin a courtship anew. You always were my favorite.”

“Your favorite what? Victim?” Magnolia snorted, suddenly wondering what
his
reflection would look like in the pond. “You sicken me, sir. I’d rather die a thousand deaths than tolerate one touch from you!”

“
Tant dramatique!
” The salacious glimmer in his eyes brightened. “I always loved your passion.” He leaned toward her. “Perhaps a kiss for old time’s sake?”

Magnolia raised her hand to slap him. He caught it and tugged it behind him, pinning her against his chest. Scotch and lavender combined in a repulsive odor that stung her nose. Her head spun. Her legs wobbled. She struggled to free herself and cried out. He grabbed her other arm and held it down. Lips descended on hers.

Then he was gone. Disappeared in a mad swoosh. Magnolia stumbled to catch her balance and peered into the shadows to see Hayden shoving Patrick to the ground.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Hayden growled, then picked the man up by his lapels and shoved a fist into his gut.

Coughing, Patrick bent like a snapped twig and held up a hand to stay his son. When he recovered his breath, he stood upright and chuckled.
Chuckled!
Though Magnolia could see the hesitancy in his eyes. “Well played, son. Well played. But I had no intention of hurting her.”

“Do not call me that.” Hayden seethed, snapping hair from his face. “Now leave before I finish what I started the other night.”

Patrick held up his palms. “You would murder an unarmed man?”

“You would ravish an innocent woman?”

Magnolia didn’t know whether to be elated that Hayden had come to her rescue or frightened at the ensuing battle. She scanned the clearing for something with which to strike Patrick.

Hayden took a step toward his father, hands fisted at his sides. “Go!”

One corner of Patrick’s lips twitched. “Very well. Calm yourself, boy. I’m leaving.” Straightening his coat, he tipped his head toward Magnolia and started away. Hayden unclenched his fists and glanced at Magnolia. Just one tiny glance that took his eyes from Patrick for but a second. And the beast took advantage and slugged Hayden across the jaw.

His head jerked to the side. He stumbled backward. Yet even before Hayden recovered, he pummeled his father in the chest, knocking the man off balance. Grabbing his coat to keep him upright, Hayden slugged him in the stomach. A left and then a right before landing a final blow to his head. The vile man once again fell to the dirt.

Patrick rolled across the leaves,reaching inside his coat. Scrambling, turning, grunting, he finally leapt to his knees. Blood seeped from lips that formed a slow grin—a devilish grin that seemed to have a life of its own in the flickering light. Plucking a pistol from within his coat, he leveled it at Hayden. Hayden froze. The gun cocked. Magnolia’s breath halted. Patrick pulled the trigger.

C
HAPTER
33

T
he sharp crack of Patrick’s pistol reverberated in Hayden’s ears. Magnolia screamed. Gun smoke pinched his nose. Sweat dribbled down his neck as a numbness crept up his legs, his thighs, and onto his torso. He patted his chest, searching for the wound that surely must be there, all the while wondering why he felt no pain. Perhaps the absence was God’s way of sparing those who were dying from last-minute agony. Yet, when he raised his hands, no blood appeared on them anywhere.

His father had missed.

Dashing to Hayden, Magnolia seemed equally shocked, her teary eyes scanning him from head to toe before falling into his arms. He absorbed her like a root absorbed water, her feminine scent wiping away the anger and smoke from his nose. It was good to hold her again.

Tossing down his gun, Patrick cursed and drew a knife.

Nudging Magnolia behind him, Hayden faced his father. “Killing your own son? I thought at least
that
was beneath you, Patrick.”

“You’ve become a nuisance, Hayden. Besides, you already tried to kill your own father, so what does that make you?” Moonlight glinted on the blade as he flipped the knife expertly in his hand. “And it appears you’ve stolen my lady’s affections. An insult that cannot go unchallenged.”

Fingers twitching at the chance to put an end to this, Hayden slowly drew the knife from his belt. He could kill his father right here and now. And what better excuse? The man had assaulted Magnolia and shot at Hayden. No one would blame Hayden at all.

Patrick circled him, his eyes obsidian in the darkness—empty, hard obsidian that reminded Hayden of the vision of Julianne, the way her eyes had changed, the presence of evil surrounding her.

“Stop this at once! Both of you!” Magnolia shouted, her voice broken and desperate.

Patrick charged, his blade gleaming. Hayden sidestepped then barreled into the man’s side, sending them both to the ground. Round and round in the mud and leaves they went. Patrick groaned and grunted, his spittle spraying. Pain sliced Hayden’s arm. Releasing his father, he leapt back and jumped to his feet, holding back the blood beneath his sleeve.

“Hayden, no!” Magnolia cried.

Patrick bounced up with more agility than his age should have allowed. Brushing leaves from his coat, he stretched his neck. A malicious grin alighted on his lips. “How does it feel to have your father’s cast offs?” He gestured toward Magnolia.

“How dare you?” Magnolia stomped her foot, bent to pick up a rock, and tossed it at Patrick. He ducked, chuckling. Groaning, she went off in search of another while Hayden assessed his enemy.

“If you’re fool enough to release such a treasure what is that to me?” Hayden dove for the man, seeing nothing but the path from his knife to Patrick’s heart.

But Patrick blocked that path with a quick thrust of his arm and then twisted to ram his blade toward Hayden’s stomach. He would have succeeded in planting a fatal wound if Hayden hadn’t lunged backward. As it was, Patrick’s attack loosened the knife from Hayden’s hand. It fell with an ominous thud to the dirt. Heart in his throat, Hayden searched the ground to retrieve it, but darkness kept it hidden.

“Aha!” Patrick sauntered toward him, his expression one of ravenous glee.

A flash of blue calico blocked him from view. “Stop this nonsense, Patrick!” Magnolia pounded on his father’s chest. “He is your son. You beast! You horrible beast!”

Hayden charged toward her. Foolish woman. The man would take no thought to kill her if she became a nuisance. He reached out to shove her aside when Patrick grabbed her wrists and locked them together. “Ah, my dearest, how utterly quaint.” She tried to kick him, but he sprang out of her way. “The woman fights better than you do, Hayden!”

The sight of Patrick’s knife gleaming in the moonlight so close to Magnolia’s throat kept Hayden in place. “Leave her be. Your fight is with me.”

“As you wish.” Patrick released Magnolia with a violent shove, sending her crashing to the ground in a puff of skirts.

Fury took charge. Hayden fisted Patrick in the stomach. His groan was but momentary. Leaning over, he grabbed something from the ground and then rushed Hayden. Hayden could barely react before something struck him over the head. His vision clouded. His legs liquefied. And he dropped to the ground, fighting to keep conscious.

Tossing a rock aside, Patrick pounced on him, jamming Hayden’s shoulders into the dirt. Overhead, branches and leaves spun around a sprinkling of stars. He heard Magnolia’s faint sobs. A glimmer flashed in his eyes and pain seared his neck. His father’s face filled his vision, crinkled in rage. “Why did you have to find me? Why didn’t you leave me alone? Now, you force my hand.”

Hayden knew it was all over. His father would kill him.
God help me!

His head began to clear. His strength returned. His father still hovered over him, knife to Hayden’s throat, hesitating. Was there some goodness in the man after all?

“Sorry,” was all Patrick said before he inhaled as if to gather strength for the task. In a burst of energy, Hayden kneed him in the groin and shoved him aside. Moonlight flashed on the knife as Hayden plucked it from his father’s hand and held it to his throat.

“One move. One breath. And it will be your last.”

Lantern light circled them as if they were performers in some gruesome play.

Terror etched across Patrick’s eyes.

This was the moment Hayden had waited for his entire life. The moment he had planned, sought after, dreamed of during long, sleepless nights. This was the moment he would honor his mother’s memory. This was the moment he would have his revenge.

The blade quivered over his father’s coarse skin.

Magnolia groaned. Her skirts swished. If the man had hurt her!

A stream of blood trickled from the tip of the blade. Just another inch and Hayden would cut the artery that fed this vile man’s brain.

F
ORGIVE
.

Forgive? Had Hayden heard correctly? Forgive the death of his mother? Forgive the years he’d spent on the street, eating scraps not fit for rats. Forgive the frostbite and lice and sores and a belly that had clawed up his throat at the mere scent of food. Yet…hadn’t God forgiven Hayden of all his wicked acts? Until now, Hayden had no idea how difficult that task must have been for God—forgiving those who hurt Him, who reject Him and renounce Him. Sending His own Son to die in their stead—Hayden’s stead.

Hayden swallowed, gripping the knife tighter. Could Hayden send someone he loved to their death for this man? No.

But what of justice, God?

I AM
JUSTICE
.

Patrick swallowed, deepening the cut. His breath heightened.

Hayden’s fingers trembled. Sweat dripped onto his father’s chest. Hayden was not God. Not even close. He couldn’t forgive him.

I
LIVE IN YOU
.

He ground his jaw together so hard he thought it would burst. But still he waited, seeking the strength of his new Father. If God
was
inside him somewhere, that strength would come.

And it did. Pity replaced anger. Sorrow replaced the need for revenge. And he shoved off his father and stood.

“Go.” He waved the blade toward the jungle. “Go!”

Patrick struggled to rise and, without a word, dashed into the leaves.

After ensuring he was gone, Hayden searched for Magnolia but found only a lump of shadowy skirts. Terrified, he knelt beside her reaching for her, praying she wasn’t injured. Arms emerged from the darkness and looped around his neck. “Oh, Hayden, I thought he would kill you.”

“So did I.” He chuckled, feeling the blood trickle down his neck beneath his shirt. “Are you hurt?”

“I must have hit my head. I couldn’t move. By the time I was finally able to sit, you held a knife to Patrick’s throat.”

“Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

Hayden wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her to her feet. She stumbled and leaned on him as he led her back to the creek and lowered her to a boulder. Grabbing the lantern, he examined her head. No blood. Just a slight bump. The sight caused his anger to rise again. He forced it down.

“I’m all right, Hayden, but you…” She touched the bloody gash on his arm and gasped when she saw his neck. Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she dipped it in the creek and dabbed the wound, her face puckering in angst.

He stayed her hand and engulfed it in his, searching her eyes, longing for things to be the way they used to be. She cupped his cheek, running her fingers over his jaw. “You didn’t kill him. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Why?”

Releasing her hand, Hayden stood. He drew a deep breath and stared at the moonlit water whirling and bubbling down the creek bed. “I’ve come to realize revenge only causes more heartache. Forgiveness is better.” He shifted his shoulders and smiled.“Quite freeing, actually.”

“Forgiveness? I never would have expected you to say such a thing.”

“God has changed me.”

“God? Now I know I’m dreaming.” She stood and pressed the cloth to his arm. “We should have Eliza look at this.”

He placed his hand over hers. “You took care of me when I had far worse injuries.”

Her eyes lifted to his, liquid sapphires brewing with turmoil. “Would that we had never left the jungle, Hayden.”

He’d give anything if that were true. If they could both go back to a time before Patrick appeared. Before everything changed. But they couldn’t. And despite her care for him now, despite the look of love burning in her eyes, they never could. “I’m leaving Brazil.”

Jaw dropping, she jerked from his touch. “Leaving? Why?” But then her hand was on his again, sudden joy lighting her face. “Take me. We’ll go together. Like we planned.”

Hayden shook his head and looked away, not wanting to see the pain in her eyes—not wanting to see his own pain reflected there. “I can’t.”

“I don’t understand.” Her voice etched with desperation.

Hayden made his way to the creek and stared over the water flowing past in peaks and valleys, much like his life. “Every time I look at you, I see you in my father’s arms.”

“Well stop seeing that, you stubborn fool! And see me only in
your
arms.”

“Would that it were that easy.” He faced her and was sorry he did. She’d never looked so lost, so completely and utterly lost. Not because of the dirt blotching her face. Not because of her hair tumbling over her shoulders. But because of the look of desperation, of hopelessness in her eyes. “You are a constant reminder of him. I’ve wasted fifteen years thinking of that man. I need to forget him for the next fifteen.”

“He and I were engaged less than a year. Nothing untoward happened between us.”

“I know that.” Against his better judgment, he caressed her cheek. So soft. He never wanted to forget it. “You are a lady through and through.”