Ashes in the Wind (39 page)

“Dat is de key to—ah”—the girl rolled her eyes upward for a long moment— “Miz Roberta’s captain doctah—his—his place—down at the ‘Talba house.”

Doctor Brooks raised his brows. “You mean Major Latimer’s apartment at the Pontalba place?”

Cora Mae nodded vigorously. “Yassuh, dat’s what it’s for.”

“And what does this have to do with Miss Alaina?”

“W-a-a-l-l.” Cora Mae raised her hand, spread her fingers, and began to count off the points she had been told. “Miz Lainie, she say she ain’t mad ’bout the weddin’ no more—and she will do it wid”—the girl paused and looked up questioningly—“wid the lawman? But some man—” She moved on to the next finger. “Jack DeBone, I guess it were. He done caught Miz Lainie and got her in trouble.” Cora Mae moved back to the first finger, shook her head, then moved on to the third. “Miz Lainie say—or Saul say, Miz Lainie say—for you to come pick her up wid the key, and the two of you go to that Pon—Pon—where dat key fits—and wait dere inside.” Cora Mae moved to the fourth finger and stood in deep thought for a moment. “Dat’s right! Den Mistah Angus, he gonna bring de lawman—and de preacher man—and yo’ is gonna get de weddin’ done with.”

The girl dropped her hands and held them behind her back, grinning broadly at the success of her mission, while Doctor Brooks tried to sort out the facts as he had just heard them and the housekeeper stared fixedly at the wall, muttering beneath her breath.

Doctor Brooks looked at the key and began to repeat carefully, “Now let me get this straight—Miss Alaina wants to go through with the marriage—” Cora Mae pulled out her hands and began to tick off her fingers as the doctor continued. “Because Jacques DuBonné caught her and caused a lot of trouble. And I am supposed to take this key, pick up Miss Alaina, and go to Major Latimer’s apartment where we will meet Angus, the lawyer, and the minister.”

The girl nodded her head, then suddenly her grin faded, and she stared down blankly at her still-raised thumb. “Yassah! Yassah!” She worried. “But dere’s somep’n mo’. I used all o’ dem when dey said it. Dey is somep’n mo’—” Her voice trailed off as she became lost in thought. Her audience waited with bated breath.

“Oh!” The grin came back wider than before, and she proudly pushed the thumb down. “Miz Lainie is waitin’ up where dem—where dem hurt rebel soldiers used to be.”

“In the hospital?” Doctor Brooks asked urgently. “In the old Confederate ward? Of course, I would have guessed it. You’ve done very well, Cora Mae, and I hope Miss Alaina—” he glanced again at his housekeeper who shook her head in confusion—“will answer any further questions I might have. But
tell me, child, why did you come sneaking through all the shrubs to the back door?”

“Saul say dat DeBone man gots a buncha white trash out on de streets, an’ dey is lookin’ fo’ Miz Lainie, and we is gots to be careful dey don’t find her.”

“Very well, Cora Mae. Do you have a way home?”

“Ah gots Ol’ Tar. He down the street a ways.”

“Then go back home, and be just as careful as you were on the way here.”

When the girl was gone, he turned to the housekeeper. “I’m going to get dressed. I’ll take a horse and buggy from the hospital stable. If anyone asks, tell them I was called out to the hospital.”

PART TWO

A
light mist had settled on the river, mottling the surface of the water into a dull brownish gray and muting the autumn colors of the thick forests. Alaina leaned against the forward railing of the upper deck, letting her eyes skim over the panorama of this northern land as the packet slid through a jumbled, island-filled stretch of water. Low limestone bluffs began to grow on either side. Then, a darker current on the eastern bank slowly expanded until, beneath a high cliff, it became another river that spewed its clearer waters into the Mississippi. The tributary was the Saint Croix, she was informed, and another hour or so would see them to their destination.

Once again, a riverboat carried her away from the smell of ashes and into a new phase of her life. Alaina could hardly deny a feeling of expectation, yet a sense of strangeness roamed restlessly within her. The awareness that she was now Cole Latimer’s wife burrowed down in her mind, leaving her nothing more than a thin facade of composure to mask her disquietude. The closer she came to her destination, the faster her thoughts churned in fretful turmoil, and a full night of restful sleep had slipped beyond her grasp. This morning she had risen before dawn after
much tossing and turning, packed her few belongings, and thrust her wicker valise, along with the leatherbound case, into the larger steamer trunk wherein she had started her voyage. In deference to the light drizzle that threatened to continue, she had been reluctant to wear one of her better gowns for fear of having it ruined by the rain and mud. Instead, she had donned the reliable black dress with its newly added adornment of ecru lace. Her haste
to be ready gained her nothing, for she had to wait out the remainder of the morning with only the changing countryside and her own thoughts to occupy her. She chafed, not with eagerness, but with something more akin to anxiety and dread. She had hoped to meet Cole with at least some semblance of dignity, but her appearance was far from being at its best. Rather, she feared that she might be mistaken for someone’s poor relation. Yet her Scottish blood would not allow her to subject any other item of her carefully replenished wardrobe to the elements for the sake of mere pride. The black bonnet and the homemade woolen cloak of Confederate gray served to protect her from the cold, damp wind even if it lent nothing to a stately grace.

The unrelenting, dark rust hue of the autumn oaks gradually gave way to occasional houses that stood close upon the riverbanks. The sternwheeler rounded a bend to the left, and ahead of them, beyond a last small island, a cliff separated the rivers like a huge ship’s prow. High on its summit sprawled a stone-walled fort that flew the stripes and blue of a Federal flag. A precipitous road led down the left face of the hill to a narrow bank below where a cluster of wooden buildings squatted along
a low stone landing. As they neared shore, the captain came out of the pilothouse and directed the helmsman until the steamer carefully nudged against the quay.

“Secure her!” he bellowed to the deckhands below, then to the helmsman, “Shut her down!” The man reached up and pulled a lanyard down. The ship’s whistle emitted a single, piercing shriek, and the stern paddle wheel halted its restless churning.

Several wagons awaited the packet’s arrival, and a short distance from these a large, enclosed brougham was visible. A pair of figures stood beside it, and with a woman’s sureness, Alaina knew the tall, lean one was her husband. All about her, passengers were drifting from the railing, but her own limbs felt leaden. She stood as one mesmerized, not able to lift her gaze from the man leaning on a slim, black cane.

Farther aft, Mister James hurried from his cabin with a parcel of papers clutched in one hand and his valise in the other. When he saw Alaina, the small, dapper lawyer came to stand beside her. Resting his satchel between his knees and the railing, he held a tactful silence.

A sudden gust of cold wind swept across the deck and struck Alaina full force with a spattering of raindrops. She huddled deeper into the warm folds of her cloak, pondering on the events that had made such an unmatched pair as she and Cole, man and wife. He waited on the dock like some dark Teutonic lord, seeming much in accord with the dreary, rain-swept landscape. Even without an exchange of words between them, she was taken
with the chilling thought that this whole affair had been a terrible mistake. In more ways than one she would soon step from the temporary haven of the steamboat into a new world, and she felt much the foreigner in it.

Mister James waved until he gained his client’s attention. Raising his head, Cole returned the gesture in acknowledgment. Almost immediately his gaze shifted to the trim figure of the woman who stood beside the rail. Alaina’s knees had a moment of weakness as she waited for some evidence of recognition. Among the families of the South a mild show of warmth and greeting would have been in order, but he gave no sign of welcome, not even to move from his stance beside the carriage.

Mister James respectfully tipped his hat to her. “If you are ready, madam, we’ll go ashore now.”

Alaina nodded her agreement, lifted her resolve, took a firm hold on her courage, and followed the lawyer down the stairs. On the lower deck they were joined by Saul who had slung across his back the threadbare blanket that held his belongings. Hoisting Alaina’s large trunk onto a broad shoulder, he followed behind them.

With a word to his driver, Cole left him and, leaning on his cane, moved carefully toward the packet. The chill damp air bit through the greatcoat he had shrugged about his shoulders, settling like a numb lump in his thigh. Since the ride out, his leg had stiffened from the cold and inactivity, giving him cause to regret the fact that the steamer had docked here at the Fort Snelling landing and not at the more comfortable one at Saint Anthony, but it
carried supplies and mail for the fort and, after a stop here, was bound up the Minnesota River.

As Cole neared the steamer to receive his bride and party, his gaze found the huge black who trailed her, and he knew a moment of relief, for he had often wondered if Saul had survived the war and the upheaval after it. But Cole’s attention was drawn back to Alaina, and his brows drew together beneath the wide brim of a black, low-crowned hat. He was anxious to fathom her mood. But where he had known her earlier as a quick-tempered, many-sided vixen, he now perceived an air of seriousness about her. She displayed none of the frivolity that was common in other young ladies her age. She moved with a fluid grace, but with an intent directness that was at once both pleasing and a trifle disconcerting. It was as if she had carefully considered all the alternatives and, having made up her mind, was not to be swayed from her purpose. Perhaps the hardships and tribulations of the war had stripped all humor from her. She bore no hint of the saucy “Al” as she came across the landing ramp, but was as cool
and aloof as if she were a nomadic queen holding herself from a distasteful event. He could guess at the depth of her reluctance to be here among the hated Yankees, and no less would be her distaste with being married to one. Cole braced himself but could not shrug off a dismal bend of mind. He had come full circle, from the vivid rages of Roberta, to the cool disdain of her cousin, and the outlook seemed far from bright.

Alaina studied her new husband surreptitiously as he stepped to the end of the gangplank. Beneath the greatcoat casually draped over his shoulders, he seemed somewhat thinner. His long, muscular frame
was well turned out in black, the color’s starkness being broken only by a double-breasted vest of silver brocade and a crisp, white shirt of silk. He had the look of a riverboat gambler and appeared most worldly. It was the first time she had seen him garbed in anything other than a military uniform, and it was like coming face to face with a stranger. It frightened her, especially when those thoroughly blue eyes locked on her and slowly raked her. She had forgotten how brilliant and clear they were. In some magical way they seemed capable of stripping the lies from whatever passed before them. It was all she could do to face his unspoken challenge and not retreat to the safety of her cabin.

The change, she sensed, had more substance than the clothing. Measure by measure, the realization dawned that this was a man none of them had known. He had been an intrusion into their lives, and a desperate Roberta had seized upon the hope that he could lift her above the depravations of the South. Now his manner bore an odd touch of threatening boldness. He appeared able to hold himself apart from the world, and yet, with his mere presence, dominate the scene around him as he did now. He tipped his hat to her, and Alaina almost expected him to click his heels in a mocking bow. But then, the scrap of metal in his leg had left him somewhat less than agile.

“I trust you had a comfortable journey, madam.” His voice had the same rich timbre, and Alaina began to wonder if he had any flaw she could touch upon and draw some strength from. His brow raised as he took in the detail of her long cloak and
recognized the black gown she wore beneath. “Mourning garb, Alaina?” He smiled ruefully as he chided. “Usually a marriage is more a time for gaiety and laughter.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but a frigid gust of wind slanted stinging droplets down upon them and swept the breath and words from her. Gasping, she turned her face away from the pelting raindrops, and Cole moved close until his bulk sheltered her. He carefully refrained from touching her, remembering all too well Al’s reluctance to be fondled.

Saul set the trunk to the ground beside them, drew the collar of his thin woolen jacket close about his neck, and stamped his feet in an effort to banish the prickling iciness from them. His well-worn shoes afforded little protection against the cold and wet.

“Good heavens, man!” Cole thrust out a hand in welcome, and the other took it in his huge one. “Didn’t anyone warn you about the weather up here?”

“No, suh!” Saul’s face split into a wide, white-toothed grin. “But ah is learnin’ mighty fast.”

Alaina felt a need to explain the man’s presence. “I had to bring him along—for the same reason I had to come,” she ventured, at first apologetically, then realized that in this matter she had no cause to be contrite. “I assure you, Major Latimer, we’re not asking for more charity. I paid for his passage myself, and Saul can find work. If not with you, then with someone else.”

“With someone else?” Cole’s tone was scoffingly incredulous. “Madam, I will hear of no such thing. The man saved my life.” He faced Saul with the statement. “I’m in need of a new foreman for the
field hands. Have you had any experience along those lines?” At the man’s eager nod of affirmation, he settled the matter. “The position is yours if you wish it.”

Saul grinned, lifted the steamer trunk again, and made his way to the back of the brougham where he deposited it in the boot.

Brushing aside Alaina’s attempt to thank him, Cole gestured to his driver who came at a run. “Olie, see Mrs. Latimer to the carriage. I’ll be along shortly.”

“Yah, sure t’ing, Doctor Latimer.” The brawny, pale-haired man, of an age more than two score, lifted his odd little, narrow-billed cloth cap and gave Alaina a jerky nod. “Olie vill get yu out of dis cold, yah?”

Alaina thrust down the feeling of pique at being brushed off into another’s care, reasoning it was probably just as well she avoided the close attention of Cole Latimer. Stiffly smiling her assent, she allowed the driver to escort her to the brougham.

Left alone with Mister James, Cole turned to the lawyer with a question in his eyes, yet as the man began his tale, Cole could not resist the view of swinging skirts and trim back he was afforded over the lawyer’s shoulder. Even as he watched her go, Cole counted it strange that the memory of one night shared with her long ago should return to warm his loins this strongly.

Alaina paused before accepting Olie’s assistance into the carriage and glanced back over her shoulder toward the two men. She was startled to find the blue eyes locked on her with a frowning intensity. It was like being caught naked in a public
place, the way he looked at her. Returning his stare with haughty gray eyes, she gave her hand to Olie and mounted to the carriage. She knew full well what the lawyer was relating to her husband.

The rear seat was spread with a large fur robe, and though it looked warm and inviting, Alaina settled herself on the forward seat. As she relaxed to await her husband’s pleasure, her eyes watched the slow, meandering river, but in her mind, she saw only those startling blue eyes. A rueful smile slightly touched her lips. Ignore her that Yankee might do, but sooner or later he would have to deal with her.

Mister James banded over the marriage documents to Cole, assuring him, “Once away from New Orleans, the rest of the trip was uneventful.”

Cole’s brow was harshly furrowed. “You say she was reluctant to accept the proxy contract until Jacques kidnapped her?”

“Indeed, Doctor Latimer. When she found out you hadn’t come, she flew off in a tizzy.” The man cleared his throat apologeticaly. “I believe her words were something to the effect that you could rot in a hot place before she would marry you.”

Cole unconsciously rubbed the aching leg and swore beneath his breath. The little twit! She had always been too stubborn and proud for her own good, and if that weren’t enough, she seemed to have a special knack for getting into trouble.

“Jacques’s men were determined to find her, sir,” Mister James informed him. “We had to hide your wife in a trunk to carry her safely aboard the packet. Indeed, she caused a great deal of stir in New Orleans, considering a good bit of the waterfront
burned along with Jacques’s warehouse. I can imagine that Mister DuBonné is hiding out after the sheriff took an accounting of the cotton bales the man had tucked away in his storehouse.”

Abruptly Cole gestured to one of the wagons. “Murphy came with us to pick up some supplies. If you wish, you can catch a ride home with him. Mrs. Latimer and I will be stopping at a hotel, and I am not sure when we will continue home. Otherwise, I would invite you to join us.”