Say You Love Me (7 page)

"Did you tell Cousin Olivia that you're selling the house?"

"She knows. She thinks it's only because I want a smaller place, anticipating you'll marry and move away soon. Maybe you will," Verena added hopefully. "You have beaus in Charleston—"

"But I don't want any of them. I want Michael, and not for his money, either. That doesn't matter to me and never has. I've loved him since I was a little girl and I wouldn't care if he were poor as a church mouse."

"That's crazy," Verena scoffed. "Besides, you just might find out what it's like to marry a poor man, because none of those young swains beating a path to our door in Charleston has anything. All the rich bachelors married while you were pining away waiting for Michael. You'll have to take what you can get or be an old maid."

"Then I'll be an old maid. I refuse to marry anyone else."

"Well, it just makes me angry to think how I went and spent almost all the money we had left in the world to come here. Olivia never said one word in her letter about Michael getting married. I thought there might still be a chance for you, or we wouldn't be here."

"But now that we are," Elyse said with a gleam in her eye, "we're going to stay."

Verena agreed. "For a few months, at least. We won't have to worry about food, and maybe the house will sell in the meantime. We'll just settle down and enjoy ourselves."

"That's not what I meant. Actually I plan to use the time to do what I should have done years ago—make Michael realize I'm the one he should marry. You have a lot of influence over Cousin Olivia. She listens to everything you say, and I'm sure you can find dozens of excuses to convince her to make Michael postpone whatever wedding date they set. Tell her it's too close to Christmas, or Cousin Halsey's birthday. Anything. Just stall. Staying here in the house, being around him all the time, I'll find a way to make him want me instead of Jacie Calhoun."

Verena did not share Elyse's optimism but felt they had nothing to lose by trying. "I can guarantee you six months."

"That should do it." Elyse turned back to the mirror and pinched her cheeks to make them rosy. "I'll also make friends with Jacie. Good friends. That way she'll never suspect a thing about my feelings for Michael."

"Then stop wasting time by talking about it. He's probably asking her to marry him this very moment. As soon as she cut the cake, he took her outside."

Elyse, ebullient, followed after her mother. "I can do it, I know I can," she said, more to herself than to her mother. "I am going to be Mrs. Michael Blake."

Verena surely hoped so. She did not relish the thought of moving to the poorhouse.

* * *

Halsey Blake had found the red Georgia clay to be especially good for scuppernongs—the golden-green grape native to the South and named for the Scuppernong River in North Carolina. He had designated several acres for a vineyard but had so liked the green twining leaves and the fragrance of the grapes that he wanted to have a few vines closer to the main house. He had an arbor built, with latticework on the sides and top, and the vines grew hearty and secured themselves. The result was a lush tunnel of green leading to a gazebo overlooking the river. It was a private place, almost secret, for servants were not allowed to go there, only the gardener from time to time to prune. Olivia Blake did not venture there, fearing the garden spiders that liked the coolness of the arbor. But Michael and Jacie loved it, making it a special point of rendezvous, and it was there that Michael took her to propose.

Nature could not have gifted them with a more perfect night. Violin music wafted from the terrace as a full moon cast its silvery glow on the dark waters beyond. A gentle breeze set the draping fronds of the surrounding willow trees to dance in the cool night air scented with the sweet fragrance of gardenias and roses.

For long moments, Michael held Jacie close in the magical setting. Finally he said, "It's as if we're all alone in the world. I wish it could always be this way. Happy birthday, my darling."

"I can't remember one happier," Jacie said, not about to admit she had never experienced any kind of celebration before. Her mother never marked holidays because, she said, one day was no different from another.

"Did you like the cake? I had one of the best chefs in Atlanta come here to bake it."

"Everything was wonderful, Michael. It was like something out of a fairy tale."

"It
is
a fairy tale," he said fervently, "and you are a fairy princess. But I'm going to make you a queen. Oh, Jacie, you just don't know how much I love you. You can't possibly know, but one day you will...." His words melted into a kiss as his mouth claimed hers.

She clung to him, enjoying the touch of his mouth against hers but feeling all the while strangely empty inside. Where was the voice Mehlonga had told her about, why couldn't she hear it? Michael was so good, so kind, everything a woman could want. Why couldn't her heart cry out with love for him?

She could feel his breath quickening, and his tongue parted her lips to plunge inside and meld against her own. Feeling a little wave of panic that he might be losing control, she broke free then to push him away and suggest, "We should get back to the party. Our guests will think we're rude."

"Not until I've given you this," he said, taking the necklace, which was wrapped in a square of pink satin, from inside his coat. He unfolded the satin slowly, watching Jacie's face all the while.

At the sight of the gems, so dazzling in the moonlight, Jacie cried, "Oh, Michael, I've never seen anything like it! It's the most beautiful present in the whole world."

He held the necklace up to her face and tenderly proclaimed, "No, it isn't. You are. And I was right. The amethysts pale next to your eyes." He fastened it around her neck as he told her how he had designed it himself, and that the lavender stones had come all the way from Brazil.

Though grateful and impressed to the tips of her toes, Jacie could not help blurting, "But it must have cost a fortune."

"I had to outdo my other gifts," he bantered. "Let's see. I believe the first present I ever gave you was on your sixth birthday. I carved a slingshot for you, and then you shot me with it and gave me a black eye."

"Because you pulled the tail of that little dog I had back then." She smiled at the recollection.

"Then there was the frog the next year."

"I really liked that one, but not as much as the turtle you gave me a few years later. You tied a ribbon around his neck, and the poor thing nearly choked before I could get it off because he kept trying to pull his head back into his shell."

They laughed together, then fell silent for long, poignant moments as their gazes met and held. Jacie touched the jewels at her throat and whispered, "Thank you. I promise I will cherish it forever."

He gathered her close once more. "I hope you do, but not merely as a birthday gift. I want you to always remember I gave it to you the night I asked you to be my wife."

Jacie could not speak. She had anticipated the proposal but could not find the voice to respond. And what could she say, anyway? Yes, she would marry him, spend the rest of her life with him, but she was not sure she loved him because of what an old Indian medicine man had told her? He would be appalled, think her daft. All of a sudden she wasn't so sure about her sanity herself; she should be ecstatic instead of waiting for a silly legend to come true.

"Oh, God, how I love you," he said in a voice thick with emotion. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Jacie. Everything I have is yours. You'll want for nothing and I'll be so good to you. We'll have beautiful children, just like you, and every night of my life I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and awaken to find you still beside me. I've thought of nothing else for years."

Clasping her shoulders, he stood back so he could look into her eyes as he said, "You will marry me, won't you? Say yes, and we'll go back inside and tell everyone tonight. God, I want to shout it to the whole world!"

Jacie closed her eyes and swayed ever so slightly to think how he loved her, adored her. Of this, she was sure. And she had to love him back, didn't she? There had never been the slightest thought of another man in her life. Only Michael, her past, present, and surely her future.
Speak to me, heart,
she commanded in silent desperation,
speak to me now....

He gave her a gentle shake. "You're teasing me by not saying anything, aren't you?" His voice had a slight edge to it, as though he were starting to wonder if she would refuse him.

Jacie's eyes flew open and she drank in the sight of his dear face, so hopeful, so loving. "Michael, I—" she began, not sure of what she was going to say but knowing she had to respond. Then suddenly the sounds of someone shouting and calling her name made them spring apart, shattering the moment.

Michael drew her close again protectively. He recognized Zach Newton's voice, knew something awful had happened as he burst from the latticework bower, the moonlight touching his stricken face.

"Somebody said you headed this way," he cried, chest heaving from running. "You better come quick, Miss Jacie. It's your pa. He just keeled over in the shed. I'd gone to eat my supper and found him when I got back. I went to get your ma from the party, and Doc Foley was there, so they took off to see to him. She said to come get you."

Jacie tore herself from Michael's grasp so quickly he could only let her go. Taking the hand Zach held out to her, she ran beside him, but Michael caught up to pull her away and hold her hand himself as they hurried through the arbor, then skirted around the house.

Guests were spilling out onto the porch and lawn as word spread of what had happened. Elyse came running to ask Jacie, "Do you want me to go with you, dear? Oh, I hope he'll be all right."

Jacie was too busy trying to keep up with Zach to respond, and it was Michael who called back, "Tell Mother to clear the parlor and get the sofa ready. We'll bring him there."

The blacksmith's shed was situated a good distance behind the barns and stables as a precaution against fire, and as they approached, Jacie could hear the sounds of her mother's hysterical sobbing.

Some of the men had followed Violet and Dr. Foley and stood in the doorway watching. They stepped aside for Jacie and Michael.

Jacie saw her mother and the doctor kneeling near the roaring fire. All she could see of her father was his legs, his worn leather boots.

"Put out that fire," Michael snapped to Zach. "It's an oven in here. No wonder the man passed out."

Hearing Michael, Dr. Foley turned to convey with a look that it was much more than a fainting spell, then noticed Judd was starting to come around and quickly asked him, "Where does it hurt? Tell me, Judd."

Judd's face screwed up in pain. "My chest," he said weakly. "Feels like the anvil's sittin' on it. Hurts bad. Help me, Doc, please..." He began to cough and wheeze as he fought to breathe.

Dr. Foley noted Judd's flushed face, the cold sweat that beaded his forehead. It was obvious he was having a heart attack.

Just as he began to wonder why it was taking so long to get his medical bag from his carriage, someone pushed through the crowd to hand it to him. Taking out the stethoscope, he listened to the labored sounds of Judd's heart as the valves struggled to open and close. He slipped a nitrate pill under Judd's tongue but saw how his eyes were beginning to dilate and knew then it was almost over.

Violet knew it, too, and willed herself to stop crying long enough to minister to the only man she had ever loved. She slipped an arm under his head, raising him up a bit.

Dr. Foley did not try to stop her. He exchanged a glance with Michael that said there was nothing more he could do, then closed his bag and rose.

Michael went out with him, leaving Jacie and her mother their private moment, everyone else politely doing the same.

"Judd, hear me," Violet said shakily, rocking him gently in her arms. "I love you and you're going to be all right. I won't let you die. I need you. I've always needed you. There's never been anyone but you. I'd die in your place, if I could, but you can't leave me, you can't." She began to weep again, her tears splashing onto his face.

Jacie went to comfort her.

Suddenly Judd's eyes flashed open and he looked at her in pleased wonder, then held out his arms to her and cried, "I love you!"

Violet's heart slammed into her chest to hear, at last, the words she had prayed for through the years.

"I love you..." he repeated faintly.

She began to rain grateful kisses on his face, which had turned almost gray. "Oh, Judd, Judd, how I've longed for this moment. I love you too, darling. I always have, I always will."

"I love you..." He fought for one last breath "... Iris."

And then he died.

Violet uttered a sound like that of a wounded animal and collapsed, while Jacie, struck with her own grief, could only watch and wonder what it all meant.

Chapter 5

The Texas Plains, 1858