Nan Ryan (40 page)

Charlie wrapped his arms tightly around his father’s neck, his legs around Kurt’s ribs. “Daddy, I was afraid you blowed away!” he said, squeezing with all his might.

Kurt hugged him close, one hand patting Charlie’s tiny behind. “I’m sorry you worried. I’m fine and so are Helen and Dom.”

“Y’all made it all right, then?” Jolly said, his eyes on the house as he climbed down. He shook the hand Kurt extended.

“We did. We’re fine.”

“Thank merciful God for that. From what we saw coming down, I expect it got most of the crops.”

“All of them.” Kurt lowered Charlie to his feet, but kept an affectionate hand on him. “Nothing’s left.”

Jolly sighed wearily. “It’s a cryin’ shame is what in is. A cryin’ shame.”

“Spanish Fort?” Kurt inquired. “Much damage there?’’

“Not a bit.” Jolly looked toward the house. “Where’s Helen gal? Now, she’s not hurt and you’re keeping in from me, are you?”

“No, no,” Kurt quickly assured him. “Not a scratch. Either of us. She’ll be along any minute.”

The sentence was no sooner finished than Helen came flying out the back door, smiling and calling their names. The minute Charlie saw her, he raced to meet her.

They met at the spot where the back gate had been before the winds blew everything away. Laughing, delighted to see him, Helen went down on her knees and flung her arms open wide. Charlie flew straight into them. He put his own short arms around her neck and hugged her so tightly Helen felt a squeezing in her heart.

“Charlie, oh, Charlie,” she crooned, “I’m so glad to see you, I’ve missed you so much!”

“Me too,” he said. “I was scared the wind blowed you away and I’d never see you again. I love you, Helen.”

Helen swallowed hard. “And I love you, darling.”

She hugged him more tightly, but Charlie fidgeted, clearly ready to be released.

“I have to find Dom,” he explained, and Helen let him go. He looked worriedly at her and said, “Will he remember me?”

Laughing, Helen rose to her feet, ruffled his blond hair, and told him, “Certainly. You’re Dom’s best friend. He missed you almost as much as your father and I.”

Charlie grinned, then dashed away shouting, “Dom, I’m home! Dom, you come here to me!”

Dom came. A streak of blue fur, the cat raced to meet Charlie as Helen gave Jolly a hug. Charlie fell to his knees and Dom rose up on his hind legs. Charlie lovingly squeezed the cat. Dom, his sharp claws carefully retracted, laid his paws on Charlie’s chest and affectionately butted his head against Charlie’s chin. Then, squealing happily, Charlie shot to his feet and the pair disappeared around the house.

Helen anxiously inquired about the safety of friends and neighbors. Jolly assured her that everybody was all right. He said he and Charlie had talked with folks when they came through town that morning. The only real concern was for her and others who lived down along the shore.

As they stood in the sun talking, Charlie, with Dom sprinting ahead of him, came flying back to them.

Excitedly, he shouted, “Daddy, they didn’t blow away! The steps to the water! They’re there, they’re there!”

“Well, I’ll be switched,” said Jolly.

They all laughed and started to go inside, but another wagon turned out of the lane. Helen couldn’t hide her surprise when Jake Autry climbed down. Food and supplies were piled high on the wagon bed.

The owner of Jake’s General Store said simply, “I figured folks out this way might need a little help.” He climbed down, smiling. “We were blessed; the storm didn’t hit Spanish Fort.”

“Why, Jake,”—Helen was gracious—“how thoughtful of you. We’re very grateful for your kindness.”

Looking sheepish, Jake turned to Kurt, put out his hand. “Captain Northway, I don’t mind admitting that I’m ashamed of the way I’ve acted. Treatin’ you so bad and all. I don’t have nothing against you personally.”

“I know you don’t, Jake.” Kurt shook his hand.

“I was real sorry about you gettin’ beat up in town that day. I think lots of other folks was too.”

Kurt smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Well, anyway, I just want you to know from now on you’re welcome in my store anytime.”

Jake was leaving when Sheriff Cooper and Em Ellicott arrived. Relieved to find Helen and Kurt unhurt, Coop and Em were both wearing work clothes, ready to pitch in and help put the place back in order.

They had been there less than half an hour when a long wagon piled high with new lumber pulled up to the house. A half dozen men with axes, rakes, hammers, and saws rode atop the stacked lumber. Helen recognized them all. They were men she had known all her life. Most were war veterans. Their presence stated clearly what they couldn’t bring themselves to say. They were ready to put the war—and their animosity toward her for having a Yankee captain on her farm—behind them.

Helen was speechless when at exactly twelve noon the ladies of the sewing bee showed up en masse. Em was at Helen’s side as the chattering ladies approached. Her hands on her hips, a gleam of warning in her eyes, Em silently dared any of them to make one false move.

The banker’s wife, pink-faced Hattie Price, was the first to alight. The middle-aged widow of Colonel Tyson B. Riddle, Mary Lou, was right behind Hattie. Rose Lacey. Betsy Reed. Kitty Fay Pepper and her mother. All the sewing bee ladies were there. Except Yasmine Parnell.

They carried straw hampers filled with sliced roast beef, coleslaw, string beans, fresh-baked bread, and several kinds of dessert.

Mary Lou Riddle elbowed Hattie Price out of the way, stepped up to Helen, and said, “Child, it’s no secret that we’ve disapproved of you having that Yankee here, but—”

“Mary Lou, will you let me say it, please?” Hattie Price took over. To Helen she said, “We never said anything bad about you. We were just all very concerned about your safety.”

“That’s not quite true.” The young bride, Kitty Fay Pepper, stepped forward. Smiling, she said, “Helen, your ears must have burned all summer long. The whole town has talked of nothing else and we—all of us—” she looked around at the other ladies, “have gossiped mercilessly about you.”

“Really?” Helen smiled and placed a restraining hand on Em’s arm. “I’m not surprised.”

“Of course you’re not,” Kitty Fay said. “But maybe you’ll be surprised to hear that we’re ashamed of ourselves.” Kitty Fay again looked about. “Aren’t we, ladies?”

“We are,” they murmured in unison.

Em spoke for the first time. “Well, you ought to be! You owe Helen an apology.”

“We apologize.” Again in unison.

“Accepted,” said Helen.

Everyone laughed with relief then and Helen asked, “But where’s Yasmine Parnell? Isn’t she one of your regulars at the sewing bee?”

“You haven’t heard?” said Mary Lou Riddle, eyebrows lifted.

“Now, Mary Lou,” scolded Hattie Price, “we will do no more gossiping.” She laughed and added, “At least not for the rest of the day!”

And then there was a great flurry of activity as the sewing bee ladies fed the working men the picnic lunch they had brought. They spread the noon meal on the broad front gallery and everyone ate, including the ladies. They sat in the chairs, along the railing, and on the front steps.

Helen, across the porch from Kurt, noticed how the ladies were quick to offer him more roast beef, another helping of coleslaw, and always with a smile.

It was then, surrounded by old friends and with the Alabama sun warm on her face, that the profundity of her loss hit Helen. Suddenly she wanted to weep and scream and rail at the cruel fates for taking everything away from her. Heartsick, she continued to smile graciously and make small talk.

The men went back to work as soon as they finished and by two-thirty the sewing bee ladies were departing, making Helen promise to call on them if there was anything she needed. The dust had hardly settled behind their departing carriages when yet another conveyance appeared.

The Livingston sisters arrived in an antique coach which had been garaged in the old carriage house behind their home for years. Atop the box, dressed in threadbare livery, was the white-haired old black retainer who had once been the Livingston family driver.

Neither coach nor driver had been out on the road for a decade.

The tiny twittering sisters embraced Helen and told her how very relieved they were to see that she hadn’t been lost or hurt in the storm.

Caroline, the older of the two, said, “Helen, Sister and I know you need help now and that’s what we’re here for.”

“We were so worried about you, dear,” said Celeste, the younger sister. Her face colored as she added, “We acted so mean that day last spring when we saw you in Spanish Fort.”

“We did, and Papa would just roll over in his grave if he knew about it,” put in Caroline. “Can you ever forgive us?”

“Of course,” said Helen. “I forgive you.”

“Thank you, child,” said Celeste. “We want to make amends. We’re going to help you.”

Helen smiled at the withered pair. wondering what they thought they could possibly do to help. “Your unexpected and very welcome visit is help enough.”

The little ladies started smiling then as if they had a secret too good to keep. Caroline made a big show of pulling open the drawstrings of her reticule. She dipped her gloved hand inside and brought out a lace-edged handkerchief in which something was wrapped.

Carefully she peeled away the folds of the handkerchief until finally the two shiny twenty-dollar gold pieces were revealed.

“Take it,” Caroline said, “take the gold and fix up your place.”

“Buy whatever you need,” said Celeste.

“Oh, my dears,” said Helen, deeply touched, “I could never take your money, but you will never know what your generous offer means to me.”

The sisters tried to persuade her, but Helen continued to gracefully refuse. They left with their gold still in Caroline’s reticule, relieved that Helen had turned it down, but feeling very good about themselves for offering their entire fortune.

Helen felt good about them as well.

The shadows lengthened and the tired townsmen went home.

“Helen, is there anything—anything at all—I can do for you?” Em asked her best friend after everyone had gone.

“Yes,” Helen said. “Yes, there is. Go to Niles Loveless’s office either this afternoon or in the morning. Niles—and you—must keep this in strict confidence. Tell him I will sell him my farm and timberlands.”

“No!” Em protested. “Helen, you can’t do that.”

“Tell Niles I will be there tomorrow afternoon with the deed,” Helen went on as if Em hadn’t spoken. “Come out here—alone—and take me into town.”

“Helen, please … please think it over for a—”

“I’ve thought it over. If you’re my friend you’ll do what I ask. And Em, don’t you dare tell Coop!”

“I won’t tell anyone, but I do wish …”

While the two young women argued, Coop and Kurt walked tiredly up toward the house. Jolly and Charlie followed several yards behind.

“Coop,” Kurt said levelly, “do me a favor. Tell Niles Loveless I’m ready to sell Raider to him now. Tell him to have the last figure he offered waiting. In cash. Gold. I’ll be in his office tomorrow afternoon and turn Raider over to him.”

“You sure you want to do that, Captain?”

“I’m sure. And, Coop,” Kurt said, “not a word to Em.”

Chapter Forty-four

A
t half-past ten the next morning, Niles Loveless sat down behind his massive mahogany desk in his office on Spanish Fort’s Main Street.

Niles Loveless was in a morose mood. He was not a happy man. But his despondency had nothing to do with the destructive hurricane which had raked the Eastern Shore. The storm had done no damage to Niles’s palatial palace or to the acres of manicured grounds surrounding the huge white mansion. His countless stables of blooded thoroughbreds had come through unscathed. His vast estate had not suffered so much as a broken windowpane or a felled live oak.

In Niles Loveless’s considered opinion, that was just as it should be. He was a rich aristocratic country gentleman and shouldn’t be bothered with the annoying little problems and setbacks that plagued lesser men. He took it as his due and always had. Never in his life had he been called on to tolerate the troubles and disappointments others regularly endured.

Until now.

Niles Loveless uttered an oath and slammed his fist down on his mahogany desk.

He couldn’t believe it. It could not be true!

Niles leaned forward and put his head in his hands and groaned. He felt like he was going to cry. His world was crashing down around his ears and nobody seemed to give a tinker’s damn. The last twenty-four hours had been a living nightmare.

It had all begun when, out of the blue, his pampered wife Patsy had awakened yesterday morning, turned to him in their enormous bed, and coolly told him she was having the servants move all his things down the hall to one of the guest rooms. She said she had continued to share his bed these past few years because she wanted a larger family. But now that she was getting older, she’d decided two children were quite enough. And that since he was getting older as well, perhaps one woman would be enough for him. She said that for years she suspected he was sleeping with Yasmine Parnell, but didn’t want to admit it. Now she no longer cared. In fact, she insisted he expend all his sexual energy on Yasmine and
never
touch her again.

No amount of denying or cajoling or pleading could change Patsy’s mind. He would, she blithely told him, stay married to her for as long as it suited her. If it didn’t suit him, well, that was too bad. It was actually her mansion, her land, her blooded racehorses, her money. He wouldn’t, she promised, get one penny of the McClelland fortune if he ever left her.

Stunned, hurt, Niles had ridden into Spanish Fort consoling himself with the knowledge that at least his mistress loved and desired him even if his wife did not. He could hardly wait to pour out his heart to his beloved.

He had not seen his beautiful Yasmine for nearly three weeks and he needed her badly. She had gone down to Point Clear for a long holiday, had fled the coastal resort only days ahead of the hurricane. There had been no opportunity for them to meet since her return. Finally she had sent word that she would come to his office that afternoon.