Catherine's Cross (30 page)

The funeral attire of black seemed to absorb the oppressive heat that had descended upon the Low Country in recent days. Perspiration rolled down Jenks's back and chest, wetting her dress. She pressed a linen handkerchief against her face and neck to remove the moisture that dampened her skin.

When the services were complete, Seth stood with Rory's mother. She looked so fragile as tears continued to fall down her cheeks. Rory's friends and former co-workers came by to offer their condolences, and Jenks remembered Rose from the Shrimp Shack as she came forward to speak with Delores.

“Miz Masters, I sure am sorry about Rory,” she said, wiping tears from her face. Delores shook her hand and thanked her as another mourner came forward.

Refreshments were served in an air-conditioned sanctuary by Marine Corps personnel. Afterwards, Delores left for her flight back to San Francisco and Seth drove Jenks back to Port Royal. She invited him inside, and he collapsed onto the living room sofa. He held his hand out to her and motioned for her to join him on the couch.

Looking into her eyes he said, “I need to be alone for a couple of days. Please forgive me.”

Startled by his statement, she responded, “Are you sure you should be alone right now? I don't want you to leave.”

He kissed her on the forehead and hugged her gently. “It's all right. I just need to do this.”

He rose from the couch, and she grabbed his hand as he stepped toward the front door. Tears welled in her eyes. “Please don't leave.”

He stroked the side of her cheek, but opened the front door. “I'll call you in a couple of days.” He walked down the pathway in front of her home to his car. Starting the engine, he pulled away and looked back at her. Their eyes locked, and she observed the sad expression on his face.

When she went back into the house, feelings of frustration and anxiety overcame her, and she picked up a glass flower vase and hurled it with all her strength into the fireplace. The glass shattered with a resounding crash that echoed through the room. She started to remove her damp dress, unbuttoning it as she walked down the hallway.

Once in the bedroom, she placed her clothing on the back of a chair and collapsed on her bed. Her grief over Rory's suicide and the oppressive heat of the Beaufort summer had left her exhausted. She closed her eyes to rest.

When she woke the next morning, she felt weak and chose to rest in bed for a little longer. She thought of the events prior to Rory's funeral. His mother, Delores, had arrived in town several days before the services, and she and Seth had gone through Rory's possessions. He had left instructions on his kitchen table as to how his belongings should be dispersed. He wanted to leave Seth his father's military awards from Operation Desert Storm. William Masters, Rory's father, had died in battle while fighting in Iraq in 1991. Jenks thought how painful Delores's memories must be. She lost her husband in battle and now her son to suicide.

Seth refused William Masters's military awards, insisting that Delores take them back home to California with her. As they cleaned out Rory's home, Jenks wept as she thought of having to collect Gigi's possessions for charity. A group of military volunteers from the Parris Island Marine Corps Station had offered Delores their assistance, which she gratefully accepted. Each day, a group of men arrived to help pack Rory's possessions and distribute some of his belongings to charitable organizations.

There was one item that Delores insisted that Seth keep: the gold pocket watch that had belonged to Rory's great-grandfather. The watch was made of fourteen-carat gold and had been a wedding gift to Rory's great-grandfather from his bride. Jenks recalled the inscription carved onto the back of the watch: “Forever, Love Jane.”

Jenks watched Seth cry when Delores put the watch in his hand and closed his fingers around it. She held his hand tightly between her own hands and gazed at him. Before she departed, Jenks heard her tell Seth, “I know you did everything you could to support my son. He told me that in one respect he was a fortunate man—he had experienced true friendship with you. Bless you for what you did for him.”

She sat up on the edge of her bed. Her thoughts went to Seth.
Where was he?

Two days passed, and there was no word from him. On the afternoon of the second day, Jenks went to the sheriff's department and asked to speak with Detective Campbell. The officer at the reception desk recognized her and asked her to sit down while she went to locate him.

Thomas Campbell came into the reception area and shook her hand. “Please come into my office,” he said as he motioned her through the doorway.

He offered her a seat and then closed the door. “Miss Ellington, how can I help you?”

Her voice cracked as she spoke. “I'm worried about Seth. He left after Rory's funeral, and I haven't heard from him since.”

“He asked our captain for some personal time, but didn't say where he was going.” He looked at her for a moment. “I know he cares for you. He told me so.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she wiped them with her fingertips. The policeman handed her a box of tissues from his desktop, and she removed a couple of them to wipe her tears.

“Please don't worry. He's not the type to let people down—I know he'll be in touch with you.”

She rose from her seat and nodded to the detective. He accompanied her back to the reception area and held the door open as she left.

“Don't worry,” he told her again as she went down the steps.

She cranked the engine on her Jeep and decided that she would drive to the Walker home to see if Seth was there. As she crossed the Broad River, a rainstorm was moving in from the west. A large crack of thunder sounded, and she turned on the windshield wipers as the rain shower intensified.

She passed the Rabbit Hash Hunt Club and the chapel was almost obscured by the driving rain. Trees swayed heavily in the storm-driven wind. When she reached the entrance to the Walker's property, rain blew into her vehicle as she rolled down the window to press the gate code.

She slowly maneuvered the Jeep down the drive, and she saw the outline of Seth's Ford pickup truck parked near the rear entrance of the home. Jenks parked her vehicle beside his, and despite the downpour, she got out of her Jeep and ran to the basement door.

The window on the door was steamed by humidity and rain. She wiped the glass and inside the basement she could see the blurred image of Seth. He was wearing workout clothes and boxing gloves and hitting the punching bag with fury. As she knocked on the door, a boom of thunder sounded, and she watched as Seth continued to pummel the bag. Jenks hit the door with her fist so hard that her hand hurt.

He turned around and came toward the door, opening it for her. “Come inside, Jenks. You're soaked.”

He didn't kiss her, but looked into her eyes. “I'm sorry, I'm sweaty.”

His eyes were red rimmed, and either tears or beads of sweat were rolling down his cheeks. Jenks put her arms around him and hugged him with all her strength. “I don't care if you're sweaty. I've been so worried about you.”

He did not return the embrace, and she stepped back and looked up into his eyes. “Please tell me what's wrong.”

He went back to the punching bag and hit it with renewed vigor. After several punches, he stopped and turned to her. “I should have been paying closer attention to Rory. I knew that he was fragile, and I could have done more for him.”

“You were a very good friend to Rory. You told me once that you can only do so much for some people. You could not control his actions.”

A bolt of lightning illuminated the room, and thunder boomed from a nearby strike. Jenks jumped from the noise, and chills enveloped her body as she looked into Seth's face, which was contorted with an expression of anger.

“I was too busy thinking about myself and my plans! I was too busy thinking about you!”

“Seth—please . . .”

He turned back to the punching bag and struck it repeatedly with incredible force—in his eyes—pure rage. Her hands were trembling and tears were blurring her vision. She wiped her tears, and looked at him for another minute before turning away. Her feelings deeply hurt, she ran outside.

A deluge of rain was still falling from the storm. She was almost to her Jeep when she heard Seth call out.

“Jenks . . . Jenkins, please don't go!”

Seth ran to her, and took her in his arms, his hands still glove clad. “I'm such a fool. Please forgive me, Jenkins. I love you.” His eyes were filled with tears, and he held her tightly against him.

She wept uncontrollably, and he lifted her in his arms, carrying her into the house—both of them drenched from the powerful storm.

When she woke the next morning, Seth was snuggled against her. Their naked bodies were still intertwined from deeply emotional lovemaking. Tears had been shed by both of them during intimacy.

Jenks gently rubbed her hand across his hard chest muscles. His eyes opened, and he hugged her against him, stroking her hair away from her face.

“Where were you the last two days?”

He propped his head up on his elbow and looked into her hazel eyes.

“I went home.”

“You mean to Georgia?”

“Yes, I needed to do something.”

“What was that?”

“I went to visit Steel's grave.”

“Where is he buried?”

“There's a chapel not far from where we used to live. The hills rise up around the cemetery grounds and Blackstock's Mountain is to the west.” He stroked the side of her face. “When Steel and I were kids, we were exploring the mountain, and we found a cave that was concealed by thick vegetation. The entrance was narrow, so we didn't go inside on our first visit. The next day we came back with rope, a lantern, and flashlights. Steel tied the rope around his waist and went in first.”

“What did he see?”

“After he got inside, he shined his flashlight and saw the cave had a ceiling of more than twenty feet. Once he lit the lantern, he discovered a stream ran through it, and the walls were painted with numerous Native American drawings. He called out to me to come inside.”

His lips quirked up into a slight smile. “I was stunned when I viewed the drawings. One of them depicted a hunting scene, but in the center was the image of a large buck who was smoking a pipe. We wondered what the artist had been doing while he created that drawing.”

“Did you ever tell anyone about it?”

“No—after what happened with the log cabin, we chose to remain silent.”

“Did you go to the cave?”

“Yes, the last time Steel was home we went there together. I had not been to the cave since his death, and I wanted to visit it.”

“Will you show it to me someday?”

“Yes,” he said as he pulled her naked body on top of his. “I wanted to see Steel's grave again. I miss him so much.”

“I understand.”

“I know you do.” He stoked her hair and then said, “And now Rory. I just wish I had realized his state of mind.”