Deep in his own thoughts, he was unaware of the men who talked around him. Rough voices rumbled and rose at the next table like a pot beginning to boil over. Four men shoved chairs across the room, clearing a space on the floor. They suddenly began to swing at one another in anger. Hunter lifted his glass and stood, uninterested in the quarrel. As he turned, a fist plowed unexpectedly into his chin. His drink showered several onlookers as another fist hit him in the side. In an instant he found himself in the middle of a barroom fight. Though he'd had a few drinks, he was clear-headed enough to realize the men were ganging up on him, deliberately fighting him, not each other. To this small band he must have looked an easy target to rob.

Anger flashed in Hunter's eyes as he fought. He was a skilled boxer, and Abram had taught him a great deal about street fighting. In a few minutes two men were sprawled unconscious on the floor. The other two quickly lost some of their bravery.

Hunter watched as one of the men backed away, preparing to rush at him. The man stopped in mid-stride and turned his eyes upward above Hunter's head. His glance followed the man's eyes but he had no time to react. A second later a chair slammed into Hunter's skull. He saw a flash of bright light before darkness overtook him and he crumpled to the floor.

A man in a dark, rain-soaked coat moved over Hunter's body. His voice was a low hiss, full of malice. "If I hadn't stepped in with this chair, he'd have beaten the lot of you.

"Pick him up and tie him up out back. Then come back in and wake up your friends. I'll need all four of you to help." With these orders Wade sat down at the table and began to plan his next move. This was his chance to get rid of Hunter once and for all. His only cousin was an ever-present blow to Wade's pride. The money Wade might inherit was a minor detail. All of his life Wade felt he'd been compared to Hunter and come up lacking. Now was his chance to end it once and for all. Always before, Abram had stood near like a guardian angel, but tonight Hunter was alone. It was really quite a shame his cousin hadn't reacted over Jennifer as Wade had planned. Now he'd have to resort to something more direct.

Wade scribbled down directions, unaware of the huge man who'd observed the drama from a corner seat at the bar. As the two hoodlums returned from dragging Hunter out, the huge man stood and quietly left through the back exit.

Wade slapped one of the men on the back. "Take care of this for me and I'll see you're paid well. If there was one thing I learned in the war, it was how to cover my tracks. See that there is nothing on the man out back that could identify him. Should someone find the body, he'll be just one of many the police have no name for.''

A few minutes later, when Wade and his four hired ruffians stepped out in the alley, Hunter was gone.

Chapter 24

Luke carried Hunter's unconscious body swiftly through the rainy streets toward Molly's place. He laughed to himself at having spoiled Wade Williams's plan. He'd hated Captain Williams after serving under him during the war and could imagine how angry the short-tempered captain was at this instant. From the looks of the gutter rats who were huddling around Wade in the tavern, they were up to no good. It had been so simple for Luke to slip from the tavern, untie Hunter, then vanish into the rainy darkness. Wade would have no clue.

The kitchen door rattled on its hinges as Luke entered. His huge boots left puddles with each step as he hurried toward the fire, left unattended to die in peace.

Luke shifted Hunter's body on his massive shoulder as he kicked a rug close to the fire. There'd be hell to pay come morning for trailing mud all over the kitchen, but right now he had to see how badly the young gentleman was hurt.

The rocker creaked in the darkness, freezing Luke's muscles into rock hardness. Molly's plump form materialized.

"Luke, what's that you got there?" she demanded as she stood, spilling the cat onto the floor.

"I found him, Miss Molly. He was beat up by some fellers in the bar." Luke lay Hunter on the rug at Molly's feet. The firelight danced across the blood on Hunter's face, reflecting its light in sparkling diamonds of red.

"Now, Luke, you can't go bringin' every stray you find on your walks," Molly scolded as she knelt beside the man. Though her voice was rough, Luke watched wrinkles of concern twist around her eyes. "He's a fine-lookin' fellow, ain't he?" Molly brushed the blond hair from Hunter's forehead. "But none of our concern."

"But, ma'am, this is the man I saw with Abram during the war. The first time I saw Miss Perry, she was with this gentleman and he weren't in much better shape than he is right now. She was dressed like a boy and this man was a Union officer."

Molly's eyes widened as she studied the unconscious man with renewed interest. So this is Perry's Hunter, she thought. Then she commended Luke. "You done right, Luke, to bring him here."

"Yes, ma'am. There was a group of men beatin' him up. Looked like they planned to kill 'im. I'm thinkin' he's more hurt than drunk." Luke nodded his head continuously, proud of himself for his actions.

"I'll doctor his head first." Molly reached for her small medicine kit. "When I'm finished, you take him upstairs and put him in Old Henry's room. Then you go after Abram. My guess is he'll want to know about Hunter bein' here. He may even want to send for a real doctor."

Luke continued to nod for several seconds. He warmed himself by the fire and watched Molly work on the cut in Hunter's scalp. "You're up late, ma'am," Luke said, more as a statement than a question.

"I have trouble sleepin' when it's dark. Too many years of being awake all night," Molly said, a slight flavor of her Scottish accent showing.

"Yes, ma'am." Luke watched her closely. He'd heard about what Molly had been; so had everyone else in town. But as long as she was square with him, he would give her all the respect she asked. Besides, he genuinely liked the old woman.

"There." Molly stood and closed the medicine box. "Be gentle with him, Luke, and don't let those big feet of yours go wakin' up Perry."

Luke cradled Hunter in his arms and eased through the main hall and up the stairs. He knew his way, even in the dark. Part of his job was to check out the house a few times each night. The womenfolk were still afraid one of Old Henry's nephews might try to return. The first night, Luke had stumbled into furniture, bringing Molly storming down the stairs waving a dueling pistol like a pirate boarding a king's ship. Since then he'd been careful to follow a precise path through the house in the dark.

As Luke laid Hunter on Molly's bed he mumbled, "By the time I go fetch Abram, I'm gonna miss my night's sleep."

To Luke's shock Hunter's eyes opened. The two men stared at each other as though both had just regained consciousness.

"Who are you?" Hunter mumbled, rubbing his head and trying to sit up.

Luke smiled like a new father. "Well, it's glad I am to see that chair didn't leave you permanently senseless. You're safe at Molly's Place. Luke's my name. I fetched you out of the alley after a fella name of Wade Williams slammed a chair into your head. Up till then, I was bettin' on you holding off all them gutter rats."

"Molly's Place? That's a new dining house, isn't it?" Hunter sat on the edge of the bed. He twisted his neck, testing the limit of his pain.

"That it is, but there are a few bedrooms up here. You rest and I'll go get Abram." Luke moved toward the door.

"How'd you know about Abram?" Hunter asked, the cold, steel gray of caution touching his eyes.

"Molly told me to go fetch him," Luke said as he opened the door and vanished into the darkened hall.

Hunter tried to clear his buzzing head. He'd heard of a prostitute named Molly opening an eating place, but he was sure he'd never met the lady. How could she know about him and Abram?

Hunter sat in the darkness thinking over the recent strange events and wishing he'd gone to bed and ignored the fateful note last night. One good thing had come from it-he wouldn't marry Jennifer. Her voice was still ringing in his ears. She'd said every hateful thing she could think of to him, but the announcement that his touch made her freeze bothered him the most.

Smiling, he remembered how she'd reacted when he told her that he knew all about Richard. Poor, whimpering Richard, Hunter thought. I'd never beg my way into a woman's bed. How could Jennifer prefer Richard to him? How could she say he was void of passion and Richard set her afire? Hunter shook his head. Her choice hurt his pride more than his heart. He'd known Jennifer for most of his life and thought she knew him better than any other woman. It hurt to know she was only interested in his money.

He held his throbbing head in his hands and wished he'd told Jennifer of the woman in his mind who'd set his blood on fire and warmed his heart as no other woman could ever do. How would she have reacted if she'd known he also cared for another?

As Hunter sat in the darkness a melody drifted through the night to him. A melody so soft, he could barely hear it above the rain tapping on the windows. Curiosity drove him to search for the sound. The door by the windows opened into a small office. Lightning lit the room long enough for him to cross to a half-opened door directly across the office.

Hunter froze in the door frame at the sight before him. A vision purer than any dream filled his eyes with unbearable beauty. His angel sat on the floor beside a newly kindled fire. She was slowly, almost absentmindedly, brushing her long black hair. The silken strands billowed around her like a black cape, in sharp contrast to her white cotton gown. He watched the vision study the firelight, unaware of how beautifully the lights danced across her skin and set fiery highlights in her black curls. He was afraid to move, for fear she might once again vanish. He'd never seen her so clearly, and from this dream he never wanted to awaken.