Caroline (41 page)

The coach ran over what seemed to Caro to be a boulder, and she bounced away from Alec's shoulder. Putting a hand down to rub her posterior, she remarked wryly:

"These seats leave much to be desired when it comes to long-distance traveling."

Alec flashed a smile as he said, "We are almost there,
cherie.
Now, our only worry will be the state of the house."

During their journey, he had recounted the entire story of the Bergman farm to her, including all its more puzzling aspects. Since Alec knew the house was well furnished, he had decided that they should stay long enough for him to get to the bottom of the whole mystery. Caro had shared his enthusiasm, but now, as angry gray clouds swelled in the hazy, yellow-tinged sky she felt it diminishing even more.

"You know, I somehow feel that our lives have been jinxed since we set foot off the
Enfin Amour.
I still say we should have kept on going, around and around the world...."

"You might have changed your mind after a few years of nothing but fish and wine," he responded a trifle sardonically. "By the way, I do hope you don't mean to imply that my life is no longer charmed?"

"I hadn't thought of that, but in view of the past day..." she giggled as Alec rolled his eyes despairingly. "At any rate, our immediate need for your good luck has lessened, has it not? I thought that a safe sea voyage was our only worry."

The hulking coach rumbled up an overgrown drive to stop before a two-story frame house. As Alec leaned over his wife to unlatch the door, he replied:

"Let us hope that is the case, my dear."

Hopping out, he helped her down and Caro walked to the house for a closer look while he dealt with the driver. He had arranged to purchase two of the horses in the team for use during their stay, and with their baggage there was also a large quantity of provisions. Remembering the cold reception he had received from the neighboring farms on his last trip, he was not prepared to take any chances.

Caro shivered. The sultry air caused her to feel strangely apprehensive. The clouds that gathered on the horizon were odd-looking, for they seemed to hang suspended, not moving but swelling nevertheless. She shook herself and turned to look at the house. It was sadly in need of repair, but its good looks shone through. The yard was overgrown, the paint peeling, yet a few tulips still managed to struggle up in the weed-ravaged flower bed beneath the windows.

The house itself was soundly built in a saltbox style with a woodshed connecting the barn to the main building. Caro went nearer to peek in the window when Alec came up behind her to grasp her shoulders, startling her so that her heart beat wildly.

"I cannot imagine why I am so anxious," she exclaimed, all the color drained from her face. "There is something about this place that unsettles me." Her eyes were distant and she shook her head. "But I am being foolish—it is probably only the weather, and the aftereffects of that horrid inn."

Alec watched her for a few seconds as she fidgeted with the ribbons of her bonnet, then decided she was probably right. Since Caro's emotions had been playing havoc with her for some time, her odd behavior did not bother him as it once might have.

Firmly taking her arm, he unlocked the door and waved her inside. The parlor where they stood was furnished quite tastefully, with well-made pieces including a wing chair worked in crewel. A heavy braided rug lay across the planked floor, leading to the handsome fireplace with hip-raised panels. Caro viewed the scene uneasily; her head had begun to ache. For his part, Alec strode through the rest of the rooms on the lower level and Caro managed to follow in his wake. When they came into the spacious kitchen, he threw open the cupboards. Keen eyes scanned the contents and he let out an oath, scowling.

"This is damned peculiar. I deliberately left certain things out when I departed from here last October and everything has been moved. Not only that, there is food here!" He waved an arm at the contents of the shelves. "Look at this—fresh provisions!"

Caro closed her eyes tightly in an effort to banish the pain that was cutting through her head. Her face was bleached with pain and fatigue, and Alec put his arms around her.

"Sweetheart, you look terrible! You had better go upstairs and rest while I see to the rest of these details."

"No," she said weakly. "I want to see the rest of the house. I am... curious."

With every step she took and each new sight, her suffering increased. Finally, she loosened Alec's arm from her waist and sank down in the lovely embroidered chair. Seeing his look of concern, she tried to smile.

"I cannot understand what's come over me...." Nervously, she glanced around the cozy, dust-covered parlor, running her fingers over the texture of the crewelwork on the arm of her chair.

"Caro, I insist that you go upstairs and lie down. Have a good nap." Helping her up, he held her close and untied her bonnet, letting it fall down her back. His face against her sweet-smelling hair, he reminded himself of his theory about her condition.

"You are fine,
cherie.
Don't worry." Then his eyes flickered to the window, taking in the view outside. "I'd like to visit some neighbors before it gets dark. I'm afraid it will rain all day tomorrow and there are some pressing matters that I'd like to get out of the way tonight. I'll go mad if I have to wait any longer for the answers to my questions!"

"But—you said that no one would talk to you last time! What makes you think that they will now?"

"Because, damn it, I'm going to make them! I'm out of patience and I want this matter resolved once and for all so I can decide what to do about this place! I have been sure all along that Bergman had family, and the way this house looks each time I arrive leads me to believe that they're around here yet. Perhaps they hide for fear that I would put them out, but if I could just find them, I would gladly
give
them the farm!"

Caro's head was pounding so hard that she could barely speak. "You don't think someone is living here
now,
do you?"

"Obviously not at the moment, considering the dust, and probably not permanently because of the threat of my return. Don't worry, before I leave you alone, I'll check the entire house—and you'll bolt the door behind me. I'm sure you'll be quite safe, though—I won't be gone long and, besides, anyone related to Bergman would have to be a good person. He was an extraordinary man."

His words echoed painfully in her ears, and by the time he had finished speaking, Caro was past listening or thinking. Alec speedily searched the house, then she locked the door behind him and gratefully climbed the narrow stairway to the bedchambers. There were three, one of which was obviously a nursery. The middle room was very feminine, decorated in yellow and white. It smelled of neglect, but under the dust and sun stains, Caro could see that in the past someone had taken a great deal of trouble to make the room pretty. Her hands began to perspire as she stood in the doorway, and though her instincts told her to back out, she walked inside, almost against her will. Slowly, she moved around the room, touching things and trying to think in spite of the pain that was searing her mind. When she rounded the musty, unused pencil-post bed, something caught her eye that caused a momentary explosion in her brain.

A wrinkled corner of bottle-green silk showed from under the counterpane. Caro's hands were trembling as she bent to pull out a dress which was lacking the back half of the overskirt. Images burned in her mind of that day in October when she and Alec had investigated the green silk bundle and its contents, and she sat down heavily on the side of the bed, pressing the hem of the gown against her breastbone. She tried to think but her head hurt so much that tears of pain and confusion burned her eyelids.

"Can this mean that I come from this house?" she whispered at last, faced with the inevitable, yet preposterous conclusion.

Suddenly, a noise in the doorway startled her and she spun on the bed to meet the light, sunken eyes of Ezra Pilquebinder.

Chapter 30

Alec rode one of the rather swaybacked horses that had come with the coach, jogging across a fallow field toward a tree-encircled farmhouse that stood in the distance. The sky appeared almost green as the heavy clouds multiplied, and he wondered how far away the storm was.

Outside his house, Noah Willow scattered feed for a flock of eager chickens. He was anxious to finish his chores and be assured of shelter before the rain broke. So great was his preoccupation with the sultry, forbidding weather, he did not notice the horse and rider approaching the farm until they came through the trees just a few yards away.

Alec dismounted, elated at having caught the man outdoors. As recognition dawned on Noah Willow, his leathery face became a mask of fear and he turned to run. However, his rawboned legs were no match for Alec's and he promptly found himself caught in a grip of steel.

"Old man," Alec said sharply, "you need not fear me. I mean you no harm!"

"You're the one!" Willow stuttered. "You're the madman! Please, let me go—"

"What absurdity is this? Who has said that I am mad?"

In a panic of self-preservation, Willow answered without thinking: "Why, the new owner of the Bergman farm! He warned us that you'd come and try to 'usurp' him, but we didn't think you'd be back again—'specially after so long!"

"Have you lost your wits? I am the owner of the Bergman farm! I served with Josef Bergman in the war and before he died, he deeded the place to me—"

"No," Noah Willow promptly interrupted, "the other fellow's got the deed. He showed it to me when he came to warn us."

"The devil he did! I'd like to find this man, for those papers were stolen the night Bergman died. I must beg you to trust me and tell me all you know—it is imperative that I find out the truth."

"Well..." Willow paused, frowning. "You don't seem mad—in truth, your face seems more honest than the other's."

"Then for God's sake, tell me! Who is this other man?"

"Oh, I couldn't say what his name was. Somethin' strange, as I recall. But he came here, that spring after Yorktown, I'd say. He said the farm was his, showed us the deed. He was mighty interested in findin' Kristy—that's Kristin, Josef's daughter. We told him that she'd been in France, in a convent school through most of the war. Josef did well on that farm, and when he went in the army, he sent her over there to keep her safe. Sweet girl..."

"And?" Alec prompted.

"Well, the man left then. Kristy come home shortly after—got back from France all on her own—and we told her about him, but she weren't afraid. Spirited girl. She lived right there for better'n a year—raised her own food and animals. Then, last autumn, this fella come back. I got the feelin' he'd been searchin' for her in France all that time! Well, he paid us another visit then. Told us Josef has asked
him
to marry Kristy and said that we should be on the lookout for this madman who was tryin' to get her
and
the farm away from him."

"That's me, I gather," Alec supplied sarcastically.

"You fit the description! Anyways, he said he was goin' to warn all the other neighbors, then take Kristy away to keep her safe from you, and that's the last I seen of 'em both." He paused, scratching the top of his bald head. " 'Cept, I told Ma the other day that I swore I saw him outside the house. Thought maybe he and Kristy come back to live...."

Alec's eyes were sharp. "Tell me, what did this man look like?"

"An ugly little fella—lots of red scars on his face. Ma's said more'n once that he reminds her of one of them lizards she's seen in pictures!"

* * *

From a long way off, Caro could hear a hoarse, nasal voice speaking while fingers worked at the hooks on her bodice. By sheer effort of will, she forced herself back to consciousness, opening her eyes to find Ezra Pilquebinder's horrible face only inches away from hers.

"Ah!" he whined, "You have decided to join the party, I see!"

"How did you get here?" she asked dazedly.

"Oh, I have a key, to be sure. I have been waiting for you for weeks! At last I got word that you were on your way, so I retired to the barn to wait. I must say, you certainly took your time. But now—I have dreamed of this moment for longer than you would believe, my sweet. Finding you here on your own bed was the fulfillment of a dream—it could be autumn all over again, only this time the outcome will be different! I knew you would come back to me, even at the risk of bringing along that—"