Beauty From Ashes (53 page)

Twenty-three-year-old Selina Fraser,

her long, dark curls shining in the light cast by dozens of candles burning in the polished brass chandelier overhead, floated onto the ballroom floor of the Marietta Hotel in the arms of her very own cadet, George Stubinger, whom everyone present knew to be her intended. To Selina, the entire evening had kept her large, dark eyes near tears because it would be her last with George for a while. Yet close behind the tears lay pure, young joy. A bittersweet evening, she thought, and made a mental note that the word bittersweet would, for her, always typify tonight.

What would this enchanted night mean a year from now to her older sister Pete, waltzing in the arms of her Dr. Sam? Who can ever tell about Pete, Selina thought, and dismissed both her sister and her —her what? Her intended? What had Sam and Pete whispered to each other throughout these unforgettable hours? No matter, she decided. Whatever Pete does with her life will be definite, will bear the stamp of Pete’s total approval. Pete always knew her own mind. Well, so did Selina this night. So did Selina forever. She had every intention of one day becoming Mrs. George Stubinger, and the intention

left her breathless with delight and 717 gladness.

“When this last waltz is ended, sweet Selina,” George was saying, his lips close to her ear so that her whole body thrilled to his touch, “there will be a private buggy awaiting us outside in the Square. I intend to have you all to myself until the very last minute.”

“A private buggy, George?” she gasped. “In all this crowd, how in the world did you manage that?”

“By thinking ahead, Little Girl.”

Little Girl had become his favorite, secret name for Selina, and when his arm tightened around her tiny waist, she wondered how her next breath could possibly come, so intense was her love for this tall, gentle, brown-haired young man who seemed to love her as deeply as she loved him.

“Our private chariot was engaged two whole months ago,” he boasted on his infectious, happy laugh. “And Little Girl, I must ask you to promise me something.”

“Anything, George. Anything.”

“Once we’re in our chariot, not one more word about when I may be called to fight for our beloved

South. I’ve heard too much talk of war all around us—even in the midst of this glorious evening. You know where I stand and I know where you stand, so—was

“If you know where I stand with either the North or the South, George, you know a lot more than I know. I just don’t think about any of it. Even when Mama and Pete get into one of their Unionist tirades, I just close my ears to them. I don’t think about anything except how much—oh, how much I love you! And when I do allow myself a quick thought of anything so ghastly as war, I know only that I don’t want you to go, for either side.”

He laughed again. “But you have no intention of allowing any of that to come between us. Is that still true? You declared it was true only last night when I called at your house right after my last examination was behind me.”

“George, the impossible can’t happen! Nothing could ever come between you and me! Nothing.”

“Then why won’t you marry me before I have to leave tomorrow for Louisiana?” He held her away from him just far enough to look into her deep, dark eyes. “Why, Selina? Why won’t you send me away a whole and happy man?”

“Because I’m sure all this war foolishness will be

settled soon. On the day I stand beside 719 you and vow my love forever, I want every cloud in the sky to be gone. That only makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“It makes ideal sense, yes. But life is never entirely ideal, Little Girl.”

“I know. That’s what Mama and Pete are always telling me, but I do my own thinking and I insist on a clear, blue sky above you and me— forever. You don’t really want to deprive me of the pure joy of making wedding plans, do you? Maybe Mama’s right. Maybe men just don’t realize what ecstasy a woman knows in planning the last, tiny detail of her own wedding. Mama’s right now and then, and if she’s right about that, I’ll just have to forgive you.”

“You act and talk just like a man who has something up his sleeve, Dr. Samuel Smith,” Pete said, grinning up at Sam as they both waved briefly in the direction of Selina drifting in her dream world, as Pete called it, in the arms of her young cadet, George Stubinger.

“I’m not as young as these cadets in attendance on their fair ladies at the Ball tonight, Miss

Fraser, but I’ll wager we all have similar appendages up our sleeves, even those of us out of dress uniform.”

“I think that’s supposed to be funny,” Pete said as though she addressed a small boy. “I’m not laughing. I wish you’d talk sense more often, Sam. Nonsense is fine in its place, but I’m getting sleepy and I promised a little six-year-old friend of Louisa Fletcher’s, whose parents are staying at the Marietta Hotel, that I’d take her horseback riding early tomorrow morning.”

“And miss my last breakfast at your mother’s house?”

Pete stopped waltzing to stare up at him, a sensation she both adored and disliked since she’d always been tall enough to look down at almost everyone. “Your—last breakfast at our house, Sam? What in heaven’s name are you talking about?”

“I think I’ve had free board and lodging quite long enough, my glorious Pete. I’ve found a small house, and I move into it tomorrow about noon. Your mother’s splendid Eve has already promised to be there in plenty of time to hang my new curtains at the windows, just as soon as I pick

them up at the shop in the Square where I 721 ordered them.” On a not very carefully smothered laugh, he added, “Do your feet hurt along with being sleepy, Miss Pete? This is the last waltz of the evening, and two people in love as we plainly are should be drifting about the room on a roseate cloud of romance!”

“Who says we’re in love, sir?”

“We do. You and I say so.”

“You may. I haven’t mentioned it all evening.”

“To my deep, heartbreaking chagrin, I might add.”

“When did you decide to stop staying at our house, Dr. Smith?”

“The day I knew I’d never be going back to Florida, especially not to Jasper.”

“And when, pray, was that monumental decision made?”

“The minute I went over the figures given me by Dr. Setze, who assures me that should I open my own medical practice here in Marietta—watching my p’s and q’s so that I don’t run myself too deeply into debt—I’ll be earning ample money within a year to support not

only myself, but my striking, red-haired wife, too!” He whirled her adeptly away from the crowded dance floor and said seriously, “Pete, my wonderful Pete, you’re going to love our little cottage. It’s only four years old and cries out for nothing to make it perfect except the touch of a talented, capable woman—you!”

“July’s a dreadful month for a Grand Ball,” she said abruptly. “It’s getting awfully warm in here. Will you bring me a glass of cold lemonade, please?”

“Another glass of lemonade? You didn’t tell me, woman, that you’re addicted to lemonade. Of course, one may as well be, since Mrs. Dix Fletcher decreed her prohibition against anything else more interesting. I marvel at these cadets, don’t you? I thought young people enjoyed kicking up their heels a bit at the end of school. Didn’t you think so, Pete?”

“I think you’re talking a lot, Doctor,” she answered coolly. “How many times have you and my sister Fanny’s boorish friend, Buster Matthews, the Southern fire-eater, visited what appears to be an innocent bowl of lemonade?”

“Only the three times you already know 723 about, my dear. And only while you were dancing with your mother’s friends—Mr. Denmead, Dix Fletcher, and his son-in-law, the wealthy Mr. Henry Greene Cole.”

“I suppose you think I didn’t see you arranging with each of those definitely older gentlemen to ask me,” she snapped. “I’m not a social butterfly, Dr. Smith, but neither am I stupid. Did you have a drop of whiskey in your pocket, or did you spike your lemonade by the courtesy of Mr. Rebel Buster Matthews?”

“I’m not a social creature, either, Miss Fraser. That’s a lasting bond we have in common. But are you always such an alert watchdog?”

She gave him a long, hard look. “Will you take me home, please, Doctor? I certainly don’t want my mother to be worried. Furthermore, no gentleman—no sober gentleman—calls a lady any kind of dog! Not watch or otherwise. I want to go home now, sir.”

Knowing how disappointed Louisa would be that Anne

missed seeing the splendid table decorations she’d arranged at the Marietta Hotel, Anne nonetheless stayed home to nurse one of her sudden headaches. Eve, of course, insisted on staying with her. Because Anne knew Eve’s usually dependable common sense deserted her when she was, for any reason, deprived of looking after her mistress, she tried her best to act pleased to have her faithful servant there.

“You never desert me, do you, Eve?” she asked idly, laying aside the book she was reading in the vain hope that Eve might take the hint and go to her own place with June. “And don’t get careless with our ages again and remind me, as you did last week, that you and I have been friends for over sixty years. It’s bad enough to be sixty-three, but that’s all I am. You’re sixty-two and I’m sixty-three, even though you look about forty!”

“What difference that make?” Eve wanted to know. “If Mausa John could see you this minute, he’d still call you his beautiful Anne. You be beautiful to Mausa John and to me till the end of the worl’, Miss Anne. An’ Eve’s place allus be right beside you. Specially

when your heart be troubled like it be tonight.” 725

“What on earth does that mean? What made you say I have a troubled heart tonight especially?”

“‘Cause Eve know your heart better’n anybody know it. Petey, she go way down to Florida to see Mausa Paul Demere’s second wife so’s to be able to tell you she a fine woman, but she trouble your heart instead by findin’ herself a man. Miss Anne, troublin’ your heart be the las’ thing Pete eber mean to do.”

“Stop it! Shut your mouth before you say something you’ll be really sorry for, Eve!”

Eve’s large brown eyes filled with tears when she said, as soft as a whisper, “You ain’t never tol’ Eve to shut her mouth before in your whole life, Miss Anne.”

“I know! But don’t say another word because I —I just can’t be responsible for what I say to you tonight, Eve. Do you hear me?”

“You holler so loud the peoples could hear you down at the Mar’etta Hotel. It be time for you to hush, Miss Anne. You hear me?” Eve jumped to her feet from the parlor rocker where she had been sitting. “Hush up an’ listen. I hears a horse an’ buggy comin’ up our lane.

You hear it? It be Pete acomin’ home early.”

“How could you possibly be so sure of that? I suppose you have one of your knowings?”

“More likely Petey she got one ob her knowin’s ‘bout you, Miss Anne.”

“There’s nothing to know about me. This is all being hatched in your head.”

At the French doors now, Eve said over her shoulder, “I sure couldn’t hatch Pete comin’ home early wif her man. Dey out dere.”

“Watch your speech, Eve!”

“I busy watchin’ Pete climb down outa that buggy all by herself. Dr. Sam, he ain’t even helpin’ her.”

“That’s just habit with Pete. She still isn’t accustomed to being helped with every little thing she does. Eve, is Pete smiling at the doctor?”

“No’m, she ain’t. She—isn’t.”

“Turn around and look at me and listen. I have no intention whatever of being selfish and cross with Pete the way I was with my poor Annie when she fell in love with Paul Demere. I want you to back me up in that. I expect you to help me convince Pete that if she’s absolutely

sure she loves Dr. Samuel 727 Smith, she should marry him. Eve—Eve, are you listening to me?”

“I doin’ more than listen. I thinkin’ back wif you, Miss Anne. You ‘memberin’ this minute that if your mama or your papa tried to stop you and Mausa John from marryin’ each other, your whole life would be ruint. Ain’t dat what you thinkin’?”

“Yes. Yes and trying to swallow the whole idea at once. Are you satisfied?”

“When I sees or hears you turn Pete loose to do what her heart tell her to do ‘stead of what her mama tell her, I be satisfied, Miss Anne. An’”—Eve reached her hand toward Anne—“I also be downright proud ob you too!”

“Oh, Eve, this may sound silly, but I want you to be proud of me. …”

“Yes’m. I certainly be downright proud, Miss Anne. An’ even if Fanny, she marry that no-good Buster man, you an’ me, we be all right together. You an’ me, we always be—just fine, Miss Anne.”

At that moment Anne heard the front door

close. She and Eve stood listening, one as interested as the other, Anne knew, to find out if Sam came inside the house with Pete.

“I’ll relieve both your minds,” Pete said from the front hall. “I’m alone. There’s no one with me. The festive affair at the Marietta Hotel was just that—festive. For everyone but me, that is.”

“Pete,” Anne asked, “what are you saying? We know the doctor brought you home in a buggy. Eve saw you out the French doors, but I’m surprised to hear you say you didn’t have a good time.”

“Well, don’t be surprised, Mama. In fact, you and Eve can save yourselves a lot of confusion if you’ll quietly accept the fact that confusion belongs to me right now. And only to me. I know good old Pete has no right to be confused, but she is and if you insist on talking to me about Sam, you’ll both have to wait until morning.”

“But Petey,” Eve said, her voice firm, “you mama ain’t gonna try to stop you an’ Dr. Sam from marryin’ up. She done change from the way she used to be wif Annie an’ Mausa Paul Demere. She just want you to be happy in

you heart.” 729

“That’s enough, Eve,” Anne said, not unkindly. She was too aware of Eve’s loyalty to her, too touched by her eagerness to back Anne in her new resolve to allow the girls— all three—to live their own lives. “Thank you, Eve, and I hope Pete is taking you seriously. Eve’s right, Pete. I’ve— changed. I’ve never seen you this way about any other man. If you love Sam, you must marry him, child.”

“Child!” Pete snapped the word. “Since when have I become a child? I’m the one who’s always supposed to know her own mind at least a year ahead of time!”