Petals on the River (28 page)

could not dismiss her abilities when I had such a needþ"

"No need!" Roxanne snarled in denial, reclaiming her former wrath.

"That's only your feeble excuse for getting rid of me." She could almost

hear the villagers whispering and laughing behind her back, cruelly

berating her for being so foolish as to think that Gage Thornton, of all

people, would actually marry her.
 
He had ignored maids far more comely

than she and had taken to wife a young beauty none of them had been able

to surpass.
 
Fool she was to believe that any man would take her to

wife, they would say.
 
And more fool she for setting her hopes so

inconceivably high that she would dare to imagine the cabinetmaker would

ever court her.
 
She was, after all, the smithy's daughter, the

plain-faced offspring of that rough-featured, callous man whose wife,

years ago, had deserted him and their daughter to run away with a

traveling man.
 
Just like then, there would be the pitying stares, the

sadly shaking heads, and the long serpent tongues that would suddenly

start hissing whenever she approached.
 
"I'd have come back to work for

you just as soon as the splint had come off Pa's leg.
 
Hannah could have

watched Andrew until then!"

Frightened by the woman's angry tone, Andrew began to whimper as he

clung to his father.
 
Turning aside, Gage tried to reassure him, but he

could feel the boy trembling against him.

"You know what I say is true," Roxanne accused harshly, moving toward

him.

Gage glared over his shoulder, bringing Roxanne up short with the

penetrating chill of his gaze.
 
"We'll have to discuss this matter at a

later time, Roxanne," he muttered.
 
"You're upsetting Andrewþ"

"I'm upsetting him?" Roxanne railed, outraged at his accusation.
 
She

was equally incensed by his curtness.
 
Jeeringly she thrust her chin

outward to indicate Shemaine.
 
"And what about that filthy little

baggage you've bought for yourself?
 
Your son has more cause to be

frightened of her than of me!
 
You don't know what she's done, Gage! She

may be a murderess for all you know!"

Gage whirled to face the blonde with fire in his eyes, but when his

actions caused Andrew to cry out in sudden alarm, he bit back the angry

retort he had been about to make.
 
Taking himself firmly in hand he gave

his sobbing son back to Shemaine and silently motioned her into his

bedroom.
 
He closed the door behind them and then, grasping Roxanne' s

elbow as gently as he could manage at the moment, ushered her out to the

front porch, but he did not stop there.
 
Escorting her down the steps at

a rapid pace, he took her back along the path toward the riverbank,

where he espied her father's dinghy pulled up on shore It was only after

he had put his ship behind him and was well out of earshot of the two

men who were working there that he could finally trust himself to speak

and not to roar.

"Roxanne, you and your father were among the first people I met after my

arrival in Virginia," he began in tense but moderate tones. Dropping her

arm, he faced her.
 
"You brought baskets of food to me when I was

building my cabin here, though I assured you at the time T didn't want

you to go to the trouble.
 
When Victoria arrived in the colonies with

her parents, you were kind to them and befriended her " He paused at the

sharp prodding of his conscience, for in all actuality it had been

Victoria who had gone out of her way to take Roxanne under her wing,

having felt a great empathy for the spinster.
 
But he could not bring

himself to callously remind the woman that she had virtually been

without friends until Victoria had taken pity on her.
 
"Months later,

you consoled Victoria when her folks died.
 
I know you think I betrayed

you when I married her.
 
You said as much, in fact.
 
But you finally

visited us, and for a time, it seemed that you had forgiven me.

You came with some of the other women to help out the night Andrew was

born.
 
You were the one who assured me that everything would go well

with Victoria .
 
.

.
 
that she was too strong to die in childbirth.
 
You were here many

times after that, helping her care for Andrew.
 
Shortly after she was

killed, you pleaded with me to let you clean my house and look after

Andrew, saying that being here would help you get over your grieving.

"During all of that time, Roxanne, I never knowingly encouraged you or

gave you reason to hope or to expect anything more from our acquaintance

than the friendship I had offered you.
 
But you wanted something more,

something I wasn't able to give.
 
I know now that I must speak clearly

of this matter so there wi11 be no further cause for error.
 
If you have

ever imagined there could be anything more between us than a wi11ingness

to be friends, then you've been mistaken, Roxanne, and have simply

presumed too much."

His stoic rebuff crushed the lifeblood from Roxanne' s heart.
 
All the

love she had felt for him earlier now congealed into a seething hatred.

"You presumed too much, Gage Thornton.
 
If you think I'm going to keep

still about Victoria.
 
.
 
."

Gage felt a cold prickling along his nape and an uneasiness in his

vitals.
 
She had never outwardly threatened him since Victoria's death,

but after his purchase of Shemaine, he had foreseen the likelihood.

Cautiously he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I trusted you...." Roxanne's voice cracked as she blurted out, "I loved

you, and I just couldn't believe you could actually kill your own wife,

but I was a fool to ignore the facts.
 
I came here after Victona was

dead, after you had taken Andrew back to the cabin.
 
No one else was

around that day, remember?
 
Your men had the day off. Wondering about it

all, I recently went up to the ship's prow to see for myself, and I

realized that it would have taken a strong man to throw Victoria over

the rail to the rocks heaped below, rocks that you and your men had

hauled in to fortify the bracing stocks so the spring rains wouldn't

wash away the sand from beneath the supports.
 
Unless your wife had

reason to kill herself, then you are the only one who could have done

it, Gage Thornton, because you were the only man around at the time.

Perhaps you did kill her in a fit of temper as the townspeople have

suggested, and you tried to make it look like an accident. Whatever the

truth, T've no choice but to believe that when you saw me commg in the

dinghy that day, you threw Victoria over the prow and then ran back to

the cabin with Andrew to let me be the one to find her because you knew

how I felt about you!
 
You knew I would willingly accept anything you

told me!
 
But I'm smarter now, and I've come to believe that you killed

Victoria that day, one way or the other!"

"That's a lie!" Gage barked.
 
"I heard Victoria scream after I reached

the cabin, and when I came running back, you were standing over her dead

body!
 
If I had thought for one instant that you had the strength to

accomplish her murder, I'd have seen you arrested that very day.
 
But as

you say, it would've taken a strong man to carry Victoria up to the prow

and hurl her down, and as yet, I haven't found anyone with reason enough

to want to hurt her, much less kill her."

"You're the one who's lying, Gage Thornton.
 
Not me.
 
And I'm going to

let everybody know it!"

He laughed scathingly at her threat.
 
"Do you think anyone will believe

you after you swore you heard Victoria scream and hurried up from the

dinghy in time to see me running from the cabin?
 
I was too far away to

have come from the ship, you said.
 
I sincerely doubt that your new

story will have much effect on the townspeople, Roxanne.
 
With Shemaine

here, everyone will see through your spiteful jealousy and accept it for

what it is."

"You murdered her!" Roxanne shrieked, hauling back an arm.
 
With teeth

gnashing and eyes blazing, she flung the flat of her hand across his

cheek and felt the painful sting of the blow herself in her bruised and

prickling palm.
 
All the force of her pent-up fury could not be spent so

easily, however.
 
She wanted revenge to ease her seething rage.

For a brief moment, Gage stood as she had left him, with his eyes

closed, his face averted, his clamped jaw tensed with rigid control.

Gradually turning his head, he arched an eyebrow sharply and glared at

her.

"Don't ever do that again, Roxanne,'' he warned.
 
"If you do, you will

see just what I'm capable of."

"Will you throw me from the prow of your ship as you did Victoria?" she

taunted bitingly.

For no more than a passing moment, Gage stared at her, amazing Roxanne

with the frigid coldness in those ordinarily warm brown eyes. Then,

pivoting sharply about, he left her.

The bedroom door was still closed when Gage entered the cabin.
 
He stood

just inside the front portal for a long moment, listening to Shemaine

singing a sprightly verse to his son, who giggled in delight as she

punctuated each verse in a way Gage could only imagine was a gentle

tickling or a clucking of his little chin.
 
Raising a knuckle, he wiped

a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and, with measured

tread, crossed to his bedroom door.
 
Lifting the latch, he pushed the

portal inward to find Shemaine kneeling beside his bed. Andrew was now

fully dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed within the circle of

her arms.
 
As he entered, the girl's eyes were drawn immediately to his

burning cheek, and in some embarrassment she scrambled to her feet.

Gage tried to smile to put her at ease, but his attempt was sorely

strained.
 
"I've got to take the wagon into town this afternoon,