Author's Note: There is a racial slur in this chapter, which might offend some people. I feel that I have used it in context, because that is how the speaker, due to his background and the era he was born in, would have used it. If this is a problem please let me know.

Chapter Eighteen

The captain, as he was known to his men – all three of them – was also running out of patience. He belatedly realized that he should have waited until the lawyer was off the family property to shoot him. The extra patrols had made it difficult to get close to the house, and execute his original plan.

One of his men had gotten hired on for two days, to help pick peaches, after seeing a flyer in town. Josh, the ferret faced man had the least southern accent, and was able to easily pass himself off as a day laborer from Missouri. Not only had he'd earned some money for the gang, but he'd also been able to get all the news about what was happening with the family. In addition, the captain had stationed the sentry, the middle aged red neck from Georgia, to watch the house from a clear vantage point.

By now the captain knew the routine of the house, and had decided that today he would make his move. He had planned on grabbing the bitch when she was walking around the grounds of the house, but there was always someone around. He briefed his men, and explained that after lunch would be the best time to enter the house.

He'd already noticed that there was too much coming and going in the morning, but once lunch was done things quieted down. The housemaids all left, along with an older Latin looking woman, who Josh said was the cook for the big house. The captain had also seen that the dark haired cowboy, known as Nick, as he remembered from the River Queen Hotel, along with a slightly younger, fair-haired man were always away from the house in the afternoon.

Now, it was almost 1:00pm, and he bided his time, as he waited for the two men to leave the house. The housemaids, along with the cook had left earlier, so the captain hoped that no one would linger too long in the dining room. He wasn't pleased about the old lady being around, but could take care of her with no problem. As far as the old niggers in the kitchen; well hell he and his men knew how to treat niggers!

Meanwhile, inside the house…

"Delicious! Roast chicken is one of my favorites, and the gravy and potatoes were just perfect." Jarrod declared happily, as he looked at Silas. "Please tell Rosa that she has outdone herself with this meal." He was feeling good, glad to be out of bed, and down with the family, especially Edwina.

She had been kind and attentive to him, ever since he'd come downstairs. It made him question his fears and suspicions, as well as what he thought he'd seen, that night in his bedroom. There was though something about how Nick and Edwina were sitting next to each other, almost too stiff, that made him want to talk to her.

Jarrod knew that while everyone accused Heath of over thinking everything, he was just as guilty of it too. It was very apparent, to the people who knew them well, that the men were all brothers. They shared certain traits in different ways, but the traits were there. Pride, passion, stubbornness, and a refusal to back from a fight had all been passed to them by Thomas Barkley.

"Heath, I think we need to get back to work! The cows on the Zephyr range are straying too far afield from the watering hole." Nick saw that everyone was done, and wanted to get going, so Teddy could have her talk with Jarrod. "You know, this is a working ranch after all!" He delivered his well known comment, as he stood up and stomped his booted feet, the spurs jingling as he did so. Heath sighed to himself, wanting to stay longer and talk to Jarrod. He didn't understand why Nick was in such a hurry to get going, until he saw an almost furtive look the man exchanged with Edwina.

Heath now remembered her asking him not to say anything until she'd had the chance to talk to Jarrod. Reviewing the last couple of days, Heath saw that Edwina had not had any time alone with the man. It had taken every bit of patience he possessed, to stand back, after the conversation he and Edwina had.

Whatever the story of St. James Goose Creek was, it would he was sure, out do any other tale ever told about civil war treasure. He was also hoping that Melissa was as good of a judge of character as he thought she was, and that Edwina would do the right thing by his brothers. It was clear that at the end of the day, Edwina was going to be his sister-in-law, no matter the outcome.

"Nick, I bet that I will bring to heel those ornery cows faster than you do!" Heath announced, throwing his brother a bone. In his opinion, the sooner the whole situation was resolved the better, even if he couldn't have third helpings of lunch.

Jarrod watched Nick as he stood up, talking in his loud voice, while stomping his booted, spurred feet. Honestly, the man was noisy at the least, and that was when he wasn't shouting. He had tried to explain to Nick; on more than one occasion that while he might need to talk loud on the range, for when he entered the house he didn't need to shout. His brother, in true male fashion had looked at Jarrod like he had two heads, not seeing what he was talking about.

Nick's mannerisms had never annoyed him before – yes, they'd been bothersome, but in a familiar kind of way – but now they grated on Jarrod's nerves, and his sore shoulder. He looked over at Edwina, in her tasteful navy skirt and plain cream colored blouse, with her hair simply put up, and tried to picture her with Nick.

His brother was loud, arrogant, and over the top in everything he did! He thought back to the comments about the floral arrangements of pink roses that Nick had ordered for his private supper. Jarrod couldn't see Edwina appreciating that vulgar display of wealth and passion. Unfortunately that reference to passion reminded him of what he'd thought he had seen in his bedroom with the couple.

He knew that on one level he was being unfair to Nick, who he really loved; but right now his jealousy was raging stronger than any rational thought. The picture of Edwina putting her arms around Nick, to kiss him passionately, while his hands moved freely over her feminine curves had tortured Jarrod for the last couple of days. His emotions were a mix of jealousy, fear, and anger, as he thought about what he might have seen.

Trying to calm himself, he remembered that being shot, and then spending five days running a fever would play tricks with a man's mind. When the shooting had occurred he had been preoccupied with Edwina and her actions. Suddenly he wanted everyone gone, so he could talk to her about what was going on. They needed some quiet, calm time to discuss what was going on between them.

Victoria watched Heath and Nick leave, deciding to spend several minutes in polite conversation with Jarrod and Edwina, before she excused herself. It was clear that the couple needed some alone, that did not involve Jarrod being incapacitated. While Silas cleared everything, and then left, she asked Edwina about herbs that would work in the garden.

"Well hello Teddy!" Without warning the French doors were thrown open and a man dressed in working clothes strode into the room. He had a pistol cocked in each of his hands, and two men were right behind him. One of them was ferret faced, while the other was a grey haired, grizzled veteran with missing teeth.

Edwina had made it a point to be very congenial with Jarrod, from the time he came downstairs. She was glad that Nick had warned her about Jarrod's plans, and made a point to keep everything light. He needed to be in a good frame of mind, before she delivered her news. Her good intentions almost went out the window though, when she found herself in the dining room.

Sitting next to Nick was hard, because he was so masculine and large; he took over any space he was in. Edwina was very aware of him next to her, and after his leg had accidently brushed against hers, causing a rush of feelings, she had made it a point to keep her feet underneath her. He invaded her senses in a way that no one else ever had, making her only want to be with him.

It was when everyone was done eating that she felt a soft touch on her upper thigh, under the table. Edwina knew it was Nick's hand, and worked very hard not to react as it rested there for just a moment. She gave him an almost imperceptible look, which he returned, barely nodding his head to let her know he would be leaving. Watching Nick make his announcement, she had been relived that she would finally be able to talk to Jarrod and resolve the situation.

After he and Heath left, she let almost ten minutes pass while Victoria talked. Figuring that it would only be five more minutes before Victoria left to take her afternoon nap, she could bide her time. However, the voice, with the distinctive low country drawl caught her attention, and it was easy to look beyond the homespun jerkin. The last couple of days had been emotionally taxing, because of Jarrod and Nick. It struck as so unfair that just when everything was going to be resolved this man showed up.

"Brent St. Claire! Aren't you supposed to be dead, you low life weasel!" She stood up with a jerk, as she locked eyes with the man. "I guess that death is too good for a vulture like you!" Edwina sputtered, thinking about the havoc the man had caused in her life and marriage. Now here he was, risen from the James River, to ruin her life all over again. She knew she should be scared, but all she could feel was anger.

"Teddy, what would you mama say about how you greeted a kinsman!" Brent took pleasure in striding to the room and shoving his pistols at the woman who had robbed him of the great love of his life. "Oh, but you are probably still jealous that Charles loved me way more than he ever loved you! In the end he killed himself, because of marrying you!"

Brent could still remember that night when Charles had explained to him why he had to marry their cousin Teddy. Their families had made the arrangements long ago, but he and Charles had been counting on the war to prevent the wedding from happening. Brent and Charles had been in despair, until the gold shipment had come on the horizon. They had carefully crafted their plan, sure that freedom and love was in their grasp.

Victoria and Jarrod were shocked beyond words at these intruders in their dining room, and the fact that one of them was addressing Edwina on intimate terms blew them away. They both grasped the implication of his use of the word kinsman, as well as the reference to love of Edwina's dead husband. The older woman recoiled with revulsion, while Jarrod seemed rooted to the spot he was standing on.

The other two men brandished their guns and prodded them into the corner, Jarrod having to be physically shoved there. Brent still had his pistols pointed at Teddy, as she stood by the table, but when he saw where she was looking, he decided to have some fun with the stiff lawyer. He had spent time in town, and gathered all kinds of information on the family, and he was very good at knowing what barbs to throw out.

"Jarrod Barkley, the great eloquent lawyer! Nice to meet you; just so you know, it is my bullet that was in your shoulder!" Brent announced with a sneer, looking down at the man from his six foot height. He had inherited, along with the rest of his people, the aristocratic statue. "I could have killed you if I'd wanted to! I was the top marksman at the Naval Academy every year I was there."

"Brent, why did you do that? To get back at me? Is that why you faked your death? You are a wicked man!" Teddy wasn't going to give into the man who had ruined her life on so many occasions. She lunged towards him, but he raised one of his pistols right to her face. Looking at his eyes, it was clear that he would be glad to shoot her without a second thought, so she stood very still.

"I had nothing to live for after you killed Charles!" Brent snarled. "Oh, I know you didn't pull the trigger on the gun but you might as well have had. After Trent's Reach, I knew the south had lost, and there was nothing left for me in South Carolina. The only reason I had to live was to get even with you; but I needed to bide my time."

"Edwina Rutledge Tradd, how high and mighty you are!" Brent sneered at her. "My father wasn't tried for treason, and almost hanged! My daddy was a revered admiral who guided and protected his men, before the river ports were overrun! They all starved to death, sinking their ships before they would submit." He could still remember receiving the news about Pt. Arthur falling to the Yankees.

"What do you mean her father was tried for treason?" Jarrod had seen the pistol in Edwina's face, and he was all set to go rescue her. The rifle the ferret faced man was holding stopped him, but the fear that had risen in him broke the stupor he'd been in. Listening to Brent St. Claire, Uncle Samuel's remark, a long time ago about how even a clock that doesn't work is still right twice a day stuck in his mind. The flat ice blue eyes that looked at him, in response to his question, made him very scared.

"Lawyer, you really don't know who she is? Or who her daddy was?" Brent pointed one of his guns at Jarrod, as he regarded him with cold disdainful. His mocking laughter rang around the room, and Jarrod suddenly felt very worried. This man was very angry with Edwina, that much was clear, but what did the references to her father being tried for treason mean? Jarrod belatedly realized that all he knew about her father was what she'd told him. He had not questioned it, because of his feelings for her, and now mentally kicked himself for being so trusting.

Victoria had been watching the interactions between the players, and it was very clear that Edwina and Brent St. Clair were related. She could see it in their long, lean bodies, and some of their features, including the way they both tilted their chins in anger. They were also great enemies, because of love gone wrong. If what she was picking up, listening between the lines, there was an old nasty relationship that had never been resolved. She was also bothered by the references to Edwina's father, and suddenly Heath's warning, all those months ago, came to the forefront.

"For someone who is supposed to be so brilliant you are rather stupid!" Brent took great pleasure in announcing that fact. Deciding to dig the knife in deeper, knowing all about his cousin's activities, he smiled nastily. "Her father was Edward William Rutledge – Secretary of the Treasury under President James Buchanan! Once Lincoln was elected it was clear that the south would succeed." He let that comment hang out there.

Jarrod processed the information he was being told, and his heart suddenly felt very cold. So many things, unspoken, and what he had wondered about came to mind. Edwina's knowledge of the political scene, as well as her understanding of finance and banking suddenly made sense. He was starting to see what a fool he'd been. Brent noticed the way the lawyer's mind was working, and smiled happily. He wanted to ruin Teddy's life, as she had ruined his.

"Dear old Uncle Ned would never turn his back on South Carolina, but unlike General Lee, he was more duptious in his intentions." Brent laughed with pleasure, as he thought about what his kinsman had done. "He left Washington, but didn't renounce his position, as Treasury Secretary, until after the U.S. Mints at Charlotte, North Carolina, Dahlonega, Georgia, and New Orleans, Louisiana were under Confederate control!"

"President Jefferson Davis was very happy to make him Secretary of the Treasury for the Confederate Government. Of course at the end of the war, when he was tried for treason, it was the mints that almost got him hanged!" Brent brought his gaze back to Teddy. "I wish I had been there, to watch you have to live through that!" He had missed that suffering, but knew he could inflict more pain the present.

"Teddy, how very deceitful of you not to tell them about your past!" Brent mocked her, waving one of his pistols around. "You must have developed some great acting skills, since you pulled the wool over the lawyer's eyes." His laugh was almost maniacal, but everyone noticed that he still kept at least one gun trained right at Teddy.

"God, what a clueless lawyer you must be, Barkley!" Brent sneered as he looked over at the man. "Did you really believe her little charade about her father being just a poor southern lawyer, who lost everything? Her father was a brilliant politician and lawyer, not to mention the best Secretary of the Treasury the country ever had. Uncle Ned used all those skills when he negotiated the South American gold for the Confederate government"

Brent's revelation about the gold riveted attention on him, but before he could go on, the sound of the front door opening was heard.