Twelfth Moon (3 page)

Cadence grabbed Jaelene by the shoulders.
“
You saw him? You saw the man who attacked me – w-who violated me?” She was near hysterics.

Her destiny?
“I don’t understand.”

“You have yet to meet that man.”

Cadence’s mother had always told her that when she met a man who made her feel safe, who made her heart race, one she could trust, then she would be looking at the man God had made her for. Her mother had never mentioned anything about destinies.

“But he had the ring.” Cadence held it up for Jaelene to see. “
This
ring. And I killed him. How could he be my destiny? If—” She choked. “If only I had been nicer to him, or maybe if I’d run when I had the chance—”

“It wasn’t your fault!” Kara stepped forward, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists. She was outraged on Cadence’s behalf, her small frame trembling with emotion. “He deserved it!” she cried. “He took your innocence – he branded you! Don’t you dare believe any of that was your fault!”

Cadence collapsed into Jaelene’s arms then and sobbed uncontrollably – something she’d never done before, at least not in front of her sisters. They’d never seen her like this – so completely broken.

After their mother died, Cadence had become her self-appointed replacement. As the oldest, she’d felt it was her responsibility to hold the rest of the family together. And everyone had fallen into line in the natural course of things. Jaelene and Kara, especially, had happily deferred to Cadence, their wiser older sister, even if she was only eleven years old at the time. But honestly, how wise could she be for getting herself into something like this?

“I’m so sorry,” Jaelene said sorrowfully, rubbing her back gently.

It was Cadence’s determination to not allow what had happened destroy her that finally stopped her flow of tears. Digging deep inside, she found her composure, and withdrew from Jaelene’s embrace. She gave a watery smile. “I’m fine now.”

“
She
could be the one lying dead. Let us not forget that.” Jaelene focused her gaze on Cadence. “You did what you had to do.”

“I
don’t
know, but I can’t take that chance. It’s just for a little while. As soon as I know it’s safe, I’ll come home, I promise.”

Jaelene hugged her, and then pulled back, holding Cadence at arm’s length. She smiled sweetly.
“Don’t be afraid. You have your journey, as I do, and Kara. I’ve seen it.”

“I know,”
Cadence said quietly, her tone resolved.

“I can’t stay.” Kara was always so determined to champion any noble cause. Of course, murder wasn’t exactly a noble cause as far as Cadence was concerned, but Kara was biased in that way when it came to family. “I’ll write as soon as I’m able, to let you know I’m safe.”

Jaelene grasped Cadence’s arm, her brows drawn together. “Are you sure he was dead?”

“I-I killed him,” Cadence said in a strangled voice. “I’m sure of it.” Wasn’t she? She hadn’t really checked, hadn’t been able to bring herself to look at his body, but she knew he had to be dead. As soon as she’d attacked him, he hadn’t made a sound or moved.

“It will be a difficult time for you, but you
will
persevere,” Jaelene said.

Cadence gathered what few belongings she could fit in a small bundle that could be easily carried. And then she had to say goodbye to her father. He was sitting in his usual chair by the fireplace.

Charles LaPorte was almost completely blind, caused by a blow to his head many years ago. It had happened while trying to save their mother, who’d been caught in a trap during one of her runs through the forest. He’d fought with the hunters, but one of them had hit him on the head with a heavy branch, rendering him unconscious. When he awoke, his wife, their mother, was dead, and his vision had never cleared.

Cadence crouched next to his chair. He was tall, still physically strong and handsome for a man his age. His long legs were sprawled out in front of him. She noticed his hair needed trimming. It was blond, just like Jaelene’s, only his was peppered with gray. “I’ll be back, Papa.” She kissed his rough cheek, hot tears filling her eyes. “I’ve gotten into some trouble, but all will be well, I promise.”

“You’re a good and clever girl, Cadence.” He turned his blue-eyed gaze blankly in her direction, an affectionate smile curving his mouth. “Everything will right itself. You’ll see.”

Papa had always had so much faith in her. As the eldest, she’d taken on the role of mother to her two sisters, nurturing them, caring for them. And now she’d gotten herself in an awful heap of trouble.

And almost as if their roles had reversed, Jaelene had been the one to comfort her, to assure her that everything would be all right in the end. Jaelene was never wrong, so Cadence had to believe it. She could only hope to live up to her father’s expectations.

And then she ran. And ran and ran and ran.

For days and weeks, she’d moved from one town to the next, never knowing if or when she’d be caught. Every day she prayed that by some possible miracle, the man had survived her attack. Maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t killed him after all.

But she knew she was being tracked, she could sense it, feel his determination. Why would she be hunted if that man had lived? And her pursuer was good, too. Most of her traveling was done at night, as the panther, so how was he able to stay on her trail?

As time went on, though, she’d dared to hope that she’d lost him, until about three weeks ago, when she’d read that article in the local newspaper. It gave a good description of her as the boy who had robbed and murdered Robert Kincaid of New Orleans.

Robert Kincaid.

He
was
dead. Which meant she
had
killed him.

The news had filled her with a fresh wave of despair, her hope that he’d survived ground into dust. She’d played the scene in her mind over and over. Had she really caused enough injury to kill him? It had all happened too fast. Her memory was fuzzy, making it difficult to fill in the blanks.

Someone must have seen her go inside with Kincaid, and then witnessed a boy leaving. She could neither shed her disguise, nor could she stick around and risk being recognized as the boy. So, she’d moved on to the next town.

She’d wondered if Kincaid had a family…a wife, a mother and father, brothers and sisters. She’d killed a man and nothing would ever change that fact. The guilt ate at her, subjecting her to nightmares in which she was forced to re-live that moment over and over.

Three

CADENCE TRIED TO SCREAM, but something cut off her air supply. She clawed at her throat, desperately trying to remove the thing that choked her. Then there was the blood – buckets of it, it seemed, splashing on her chest, in her face, her nose, her mouth. She couldn’t breathe…

“Wake up!”

Someone was shaking her.

Cadence opened her eyes to the ghostly face of the man she’d killed hovering above her. At first, it seemed as though his spirit had returned to haunt her, until her eyes focused and she saw that it was Jonah Kincaid, not Robert, who shook her awake.

She trembled violently, unable to control it. Her stomach boiled like a raging sea. It forced her to roll over and vomit, the spasms hurting her throat with an agony she’d never experienced before. She lay, suspended on one elbow, tears streaming down her cheeks. She hung her head, too weak to move.

“Please,” she croaked, “just…kill me.”

“Do you really think I’d make it that easy for you?” His voice was cold as early morning frost. “You’re going back to New Orleans to stand trial, in which case, you might actually be sentenced to hang…again.”

His cruel words made Cadence flinch. She struggled to sit up, noticing the rope around her ankle. Did he really expect her to gallop on foot through the desert in this condition? Even as the Pantera, she would be weak. She licked her dry lips. “I…I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care how sorry you are,” he bit out. “You’re going to hang, either way. Now go back to sleep. We need to get an early start. There was someone suspicious eyeballing us as we left town.”

“That was Ned Furley,” Cadence said in a hoarse whisper. “He’s the one who really killed Mamma Reba.”

While the woman had taken Cadence in, giving her a place to stay, Mamma Reba had asked no questions. She just seemed to know with an uncanny perception that Cadence was indeed a
she
and not a he. It was quite eerie as far as Cadence was concerned. Reba had explained that it was the way Cadence walked – her footsteps light and graceful, instead of the plodding gait of a boy, which gave her away. If Reba had sensed Cadence’s other secret, she’d never revealed it.

“Just what the hell happened back there?” Jonah was squatting next to her, his forearms resting on his thighs.

“Can I have a drink of water?”

She must have drifted off for a moment, hadn’t even seen him move, and then suddenly he was shoving a tin cup filled with water under her nose.

“Here.”

She took the cup, her hand trembling so badly, most of the water dribbled down her chin. He made no attempt to help her, just watched her with the quiet intensity of a predator. At least what did make it into her mouth washed the dust out and soothed her sore throat.

When she was finished she handed him the cup. He set it on the ground, and then focused his gaze back on her. “Now tell me what happened.”

“I-I was coming from the barn when I saw Ned Furley hightail it out the front door and down the steps. Then he jumped on his horse and galloped away as if demons from hell were chasing him.” Cadence had dropped the pail of milk and run into the house, only to find Reba lying in a pool of blood.

“She’d been stabbed.”

All that blood had made Cadence dizzy and sick to her stomach. Falling to her knees, she’d placed an ear over Reba’s mouth. “It was too late. She was already dead. I p-pulled out the knife.”

Cadence had stared at that knife in numb shock. She’d had to fight the rising nausea, force the memory of that fateful night back into the furthest recesses of her mind. The buzzing in her ears, loud as a rumbling locomotive, had deafened her to the sounds of approaching horses.

“T-they grabbed me, knocked the knife out of my hand, called me a murderer. I was confused. I fought them and they shoved me to the floor. I must have hit my head, lost consciousness. The next thing I knew, I was riding belly down on a galloping horse, trussed to the saddle.” She paused. “You know the rest.”

Jonah’s closed expression hadn’t changed from the first moment she’d opened her eyes. “Is that supposed to make me believe you’re not a killer?”

“No. Reba was my friend. I just didn’t kill
her
.”

“So, you admit to killing my brother?”

“Yes.” Overcome by exhaustion, she lay down, her back to him.

Jonah stared at the boy’s narrow back for a long moment. He’d admitted it…admitted to the crime of murdering his brother. Once they made it to New Orleans, it would be a swift trial, and then a proper hanging.

THE TOE OF A boot nudging her in the side jolted Cadence awake.

“Get up, it’s time to move on,” Jonah said from above her.

Slitting her eyes open, she could see it was barely dawn. Her entire body was stiff and sore. Her throat still hurt, making it painful to swallow. Sitting up, she looked down at her hands, at the raw, reddened skin surrounding her wrists, and noted the residue of some kind of ointment.

He’d tended to her wounds.

Why would he do such a thing when he so obviously hated her? Reaching up, she gingerly touched her neck, tracing the welts with the pads of her fingers. She felt stickiness there as well.

Suddenly Cadence was struck by how close she’d come to dying. This man…Jonah…had saved her life, no matter what his reasons were. She watched him as he crouched to roll the blankets, showing off his strong thighs. The material of his shirt stretched tightly across his back as he moved, revealing muscles that bunched in a most fascinating way. Cadence wondered what he might look like without clothes.