Intruder
Cordia’s mother had awoken her around seven o’clock, just before she and her father left to visit some friends of theirs for dinner. She had invited Cordia to come along, but she explained that she wasn’t feeling well, and Jane could see that certainly did not look up to coming. She had volunteered to stay home with her, considering that Frieda was out with her friends at the quilting bee, but Cordia insisted that she would be all right, so her parents had left her alone for the evening.
An hour or so after they left, Cordia descended the stairs in search of something to eat, realizing she had not eaten anything all day. She lit a lantern, but the house was mostly dark except for the fire in the hearth in the parlor. The kitchen was toward the back of the house, and as she made her way into the room, she began to hear the floorboards creaking behind her. At first, she thought she was imagining things, but the further she walked, the mores she realized someone was in the house. She felt panic beginning to well up inside as she hurried to where they kept the knives. Grabbing the largest one she could find, she turned to face her assailant.
The grin on his face was enough to let her know his intentions. Clearly, he had been drinking, and his only purpose for breaking into her home, knowing full well she was there alone, was malicious. Holding the knife between them and attempting to keep her voice as calm and steady as possible, she asked firmly, “What are you doing here, Carey Adams?”
He was wearing his full uniform, including his dress sword which hung on his right side, and he drummed the hilt with his fingers as he measured her up with his narrowed eyes. “Cordia, my love,” he replied, his speech slightly slurred by the alcohol she could smell on his breath, “I came to see you. I thought it was time we made this marriage official.”
Cordia gasped. Though she still held the knife firmly in her hand, she realized that he also had his pistol, and she knew she would not be able to protect herself easily against an armed soldier. “Carey, you’ve been drinking. I think you should go home before you wake my parents.”
Chuckling, he took another step in her direction. “Cordia, I know your parents aren’t home. You’re here all by yourself, darlin’.”
She was pinned against the counter, but she thought, if she could get to the back door, or perhaps passed him and into the dark hallway that led to the front door, possibly she could get away. Still, there was only a foot or two of space between them, and it would be difficult to get by. She contemplated attempting to stab him right now, before he expected it, but the thought of doing so made her queasy, and she didn’t know if she would be able to actually plunge a knife into someone else’s flesh.
As if reading her mind, he said, “Cordia, put that knife down before you hurt yourself. We both know you’re not going to stab me.”
She glanced at the knife and then back at him. He was probably right. And yet, she certainly wasn’t going to just stand by and let him take her either. Distracting him by pulling the knife over to the side near the counter, she raised her knee rapidly and connected right between his legs, leaving him bent over in pain. However, it wasn’t enough to put him out of commission, and before she could get around him, he pressed her back against the counter, grabbing her wrist and pounding it on the edge, knocking the blade free. It clattered loudly to the floor out of her reach.
“Now, why in the world did you go and do something like that?” he asked, still grimacing in pain.
“Leave me alone,” she replied between gritted teeth. He still had her wrist and it was beginning to throb. His body was pressed against hers, and she began to realize she was running out of both time and options.
“I told you, Miss Cordia, I’m here to take you as my wife. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
Just then, Cordia heard the cock of a pistol, and realized they were not alone. “I prefer the hard way,” Will interjected, stepping out of the shadows, his gun drawn and pointed directly at Carey’s temple. He closed the short space between them before Carey even had time to react, and Will’s revolver was pressed firmly against Carey’s head preventing him from drawing his own weapon from its holster.
Cordia held her breath, relieved that Will had come to her rescue but uncertain about what might still transpire. She stood perfectly still, waiting for Carey to back away from her so that she could put some distance between herself and her assailant.
Will could see that Carey’s hand was resting on the butt of his gun. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, the control in his voice a clear result of years spent in similar situations. Carey moved his hand back, and Will reached around with his free hand and took his pistol, handing it to Cordia, who accepted it without hesitation and slid away from Carey, keeping his own weapon trained on him as she did so.
“I think this has been some sort of misunderstanding,” Carey said, raising his hand in the air.
“You think so?” Will asked sarcastically. “I think I know exactly what you were up to, Lt. Adams, and I think you better head right on out of here while you’re still capable of walking.”
Carey glanced nervously at the gun out the corner of his eye. “Listen, you just happened to walk in on a spat between me and my fiancée. That’s all. You’re overreacting, Mr. Tucker.”
“Your fiancée?” Will repeated, glancing at Cordia who still had the gun trained on Carey. “I don’t believe that’s your ring she’s wearing,” he replied, realizing that she was wearing the ring he had given her.
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