Cross the Ocean (31 page)
You are beautiful, Gertrude. Did I ever tell you? Ah, that will most certainly be the only regret of my time spent with you. If you are still inclined to grant me one wish, I would be most eternally grateful. Be happy and well, Gertrude. As you have said on many occasions I am selfish and high-handed. So you must give me leave to be so once more. The privilege of loving you falls to your husband in the future. But for today, just today allow me this. Know I love you.
Your Servant,
Blake Sanders
Gert stared at the moon till it faded. And then to the sun as it peaked over the horizon. He loved her.
* * * *
“Hurry up, Uncle Fred,” she said as she pulled herself from the floor. “I’m nearly packed.”
Fred yawned and stretched and wiped his hand down over his whiskers. “Where we going?”
“England. Come on get up,” Gert said as she sailed out of the room.
Gert sat on the edge of her bed in the room and wondered if she would ever see her home again. The thought was not nearly as frightening as first imagined. Very little is, she supposed. The baby moved and rolled and Gert smiled as her hand came to her belly.
“Hang on, little one. We’re off to find your father and that means we have to sail the whole way across the ocean.” And she knew as well she might never sail back. But it hardly mattered. Blake loved her.
Blake stood at the rail of the ship as he did every day, letting the wind and the sun hit his face. A feeling previously foreign to him, had settled over his mind and his body. He was not angry, not afraid, nor indignant. Not feeling superior or pompous or powerful. Blake’s heart hurt and sent tremors of pain to every limb of his body. Meals at the captain’s table did not tempt him. Other passenger’s attempts at conversation found him with nothing to say. William sat or stood beside him silently. In a mature way for his near fifteen years, allowed his father solitude while all the while within reach.
Blake’s list of errors with Gertrude was endless. He tallied and maneuvered them by order of magnitude.
He had yet to decide his greatest transgression. The worst time of the day was as he climbed into his bed. Before darkness and exhaustion closed his eyes. That was when the feeling overwhelmed him.
Blake counted William’s shallow breaths in the bed beside him. Counted stars as they twinkled off the water. Anything to hold back the flood of despair that seeped into his soul.
By the time England came into view, Blake had wrestled his pain to a deep hidden spot. He managed to smile at William and think more of his home and children. But he was changed and he knew it. Blake knew if by some stroke of ill fortune or perhaps luck he were to lose his title and estates, he would endure. If his town cronies witnessed him drunk and in tattered clothes he would but shrug. If he never felt velvet or the weight of gold in his hand, never saw a priceless piece of art again, he would survive. If he shoveled manure to feed himself and his children it would not matter. Blake had realized with blinding clarity little on this earth mattered without love.
Blake and William set out on horseback for Scotland. They strapped saddlebags filled with denim shirts and Levi’s across the rumps of their mounts. Slept at inns and occasionally under the stars on their trek to the McDonald’s castle. For all his errors and mistakes, he would not fail his Melinda now.
* * * *
The traveling was harder than Gert had expected and Uncle Fred had made stops in several cities and found a hotel room for them both. He insisted she rested while he took in the sights. But they had finally arrived and Gertrude was impatient to sail.
At nearly eight months pregnant, the captain of the ship was not inclined to let Gert travel. She begged, cajoled and cried. Uncle Fred took him aside. The captain returned white-faced, but willing to allow Gert to come aboard. The voyage for Gert was uneventful. She felt fine and sat daily on the deck letting the breeze hit her face and wondered. What would Blake think of her following him? Would he be angry or ashamed? Would he regret his remarks? Would she regret showing up on his doorstep? Just as doubts filtered in, Gert would pull Blake’s letter from her pocket. It was never out of her reach. And she had read it a hundred times if not more.
She knew what Blake spoke of when he wrote of rightness. Gert felt it as well. For all their arguing and disagreements, she knew deep in her heart he was meant for her. She pondered many hours, with little else to do about that feeling, that rightness. There was something mystical and magical about it. As if a fairy wand or stardust had touched them. It had nothing to do with practicality or place in the world.
Nothing to do with habit or situation. Less to do with birthright. And everything to do with some force beyond her knowledge or understanding. Her heart was drawn to his without regard to location or personality. She had stopped fighting the feeling. Stopped questioning how they would live or where their home would be. Because Gert knew it no longer mattered. She desperately and for no accountable reason needed to be near him. As the sun sought the horizon at dusk, she sought her place in this world.
Beside him.
* * * *
“I am so glad to see you, Elizabeth. And will be happier still when I can lie down. I’m exhausted.” Gert introduced Uncle Fred and he gazed at the arched ceilings and whistled.
Anthony came down the hall and stopped with a start. “Gertrude!”
“That Burroughs?” Fred asked. Gert nodded and waited as he came to her and gathered her into his arms.
“And you must be Gertrude’s uncle,” Anthony said and held out his hand.
Fred poked Anthony in the chest. “I’ll be guessing yer the one was to be watching out for Gert while she was here.”
Anthony stiffened and nodded.
Fred put his hand on Gertrude’s massive stomach. “We wouldn’t be here with Gert near due ifn you’d been doing yer job.”
“You’re quite right, Mr. Hastings,” Anthony said solemnly.
Fred looked Anthony up and down. “Ya look like some dandified city boy compared to yer friend.
Specting you knew Sanders was up to no good. I got my pistol in my trunk and if this don’t work out for Gert, I’m holding you responsible. Got that?”
Anthony indicated a door. “Let’s talk about this over brandy, Mr. Hastings.” He stopped suddenly. “I look like a dandy compared to Blake?”
Fred ambled off and slapped Jenkins’ hands as the servant tried to take his coat. “Don’t need no valet like you English boys to dress me in the morning.”
“I’m the butler, sir. Not a valet.”
Fred eyed him as Jenkins stared back. “Goody for you. Where’s this whiskey you’re talking about, Burroughs?”
Elizabeth escorted Gertrude to her old room. Elizabeth had a hundred questions but Gert was sound asleep before she could ask. She joined Anthony and Gert’s uncle in the study.
“So, Blake didn’t get the letter I sent?” Anthony asked.
“Only letter I know about is the one from the Scot,” Fred said.
“But you did say Blake left ahead of you,” Elizabeth asked as she seated herself.
Fred grimaced. “His sense of direction ain’t too keen, though. Let’s hope Will led the way.”
Tony tapped his mouth and stared out the window in thought. “If Blake received McDonald’s letter and not mine, I believe he would have gone straight to McDonald’s home before coming here.”
“Might a done that,” Fred agreed.
Elizabeth’s eyes darted. “This is a terrible situation.” She stared at her husband.
“Sanders’ll git here shortly,” Fred said. “How far outta the way is this castle of McDonald’s?”
Tony swallowed and stared at Fred. “I doubt in time.”
“Melinda is to marry Connor McDougal, three days from now at Blake’s home,” Elizabeth said softly.
Fred waved his hand. “Tell ‘em to hold off till her father gets here. Couple of days, a week at most ain’t gonna make no never mind. Sanders had hisself in a righteous tizzy. He’s the Papa. He ought to at least meet the boy ‘fore the deed’s done.”
“I think the wedding should proceed as planned,” Tony said.
“What’s the rush?” Fred asked. No one answered his query. His eyes opened wide. “Yer not telling me ya let another innocent slip through yer fingers?”
Tony looked away. Elizabeth explained. “Melinda has indicated the wedding should be done post haste.
Either that or she’ll run away.”
“Can’t none a you boys keep yer parts in yer pants till the preacher gets here. Hell’s fire,” Fred said.
Tony leaned forward to lean on his knees. “We aren’t sure if the ah ... the ah.”
“The seed’s been planted?” Fred asked.
“She won’t tell us for sure,” Elizabeth hurried to say. “She’s using our ignorance to get what she wants, especially before her father arrives. And she wants Connor McDougal.”
Fred couldn’t stop himself. He laughed. “Oh, Sanders. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when the shoe’s on the other foot. He’ll be hoppin’ mad, that’s fer sure.”
“That brings us to another question. We saw clearly Gertrude is with child. How are things with she and Blake?” Tony asked.
Fred sat back in his chair and wiped his brow. “Right hard to say. Now before Sanders got to the ranch, my Gert was a mess. Ranting and cryin’ about the silliest things. Drove me and the hands near crazy.
Then my Indian friend, White Cloud, found Sanders and Benson and kinda drug ‘em back to the ranch.”
Fred looked up and smiled. “Fine sight, I thought. White Cloud knew it was our fight. Knew me and the boys were a waiting ta kill him. Sanders marched right through us, blustering and shouting. Said he didn’t come all the way without talking to her. Will had punched his Daddy a good one and Sanders just stood there staring at Gert with blood running down his face. Fine sight, I’d say.”
“William hit Blake?” Tony asked.
Fred nodded. “Might a cracked his jaw. He clicked when he talked from then on. But ole Gert, she just stood there staring at him like she ain’t never seen nothin’ so wonderful in all her life. Told him she was worried and she hated him. But never stopped staring.”
Tony shook his head. Elizabeth smiled.
“Him and his boy seemed to come to friendly after that. Had a long talk. Sanders was nearly torn in two fer leaving Gert and getting home to his daughter.” Fred sighed and frowned. “Then Gert goes and tells Sanders she’s marrying Luke Matson. One of my hands at the ranch. Sanders nearly croaked when she said it. Took off before sunrise after scaring the shit outta Matson. Don’t think that boy’ll ever be the same.”
“He left me a letter,” Gert said from the doorway.
Elizabeth hurried to Gert’s side and helped her sit down. “I know how exhausting those last weeks are.
And with you traveling yet. You need your rest.”
“I couldn’t sleep any more. I’ll be fine, Elizabeth.” Gert dropped her head. “Especially after I talk to Blake.”
“We think Blake went to Scotland. He didn’t receive my letter,” Tony said.
Elizabeth explained the situation at Blake’s home.
“Blake was in a fine fit when he left. Worrying so about Melinda. But if what she’s hinting at is true, they need to marry right away. What does her mother say?” Gert asked.
“Ann is content with it all. She feels Melinda has found her soul mate,” Elizabeth said.
“I hope she gets what she wants,” Gert said.
“Knowing Melinda, she will,” Tony added.
“It’s a love match, I believe,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “Certainly not who her mother or father envisioned for her but a love match still the same.”
“Then she should fight for him,” Gert said.
“Is that what you’re doing?” Elizabeth asked. The men stood and stepped out of the room and Elizabeth waited till she and Gert were alone. “Are you fighting for Blake?”
Gert turned her head and pushed out her chin under trembling lips. “I deserve him. I love him. And he told me he loves me in his letter.”
“Of course you deserve him, Gertrude. Whoever said you didn’t?” Elizabeth asked softly.
My father,
Gert thought. “I won’t let Blake keep a mistress. I won’t stand for it.”
“I don’t think he will. It sounds to me as though Blake has come to realize some things. Important things.”
“We’ll see. I’m worried what he’ll think when he sees me. Chasing him back home when he’s got so much on his mind with Melinda.”
“You have to trust him, Gert. I wouldn’t have said the word trust in the same sentence with Blake’s name a few months ago. But you have to listen to your heart. You know, Gert; deep down inside if he’s telling you the truth. What is your heart telling you?” Elizabeth asked.
And that was the crux of the problem. Her heart was screaming to love him and trust him. Her mind was building a wall against more hurt. But if she didn’t take this chance on Blake, she would spend the rest of her life with regret. Wondering if he had in fact changed. If the love he proclaimed he felt for her was enough to make him stare into her eyes alone. Fear of regret was one of the reasons she’d boarded a ship to find him. She had best battle that fear. Take a chance on the only man to stir her insides. The only man she’d ever wanted to talk to, to share dreams with, to make love to.
“I want to talk to him so badly, Elizabeth. There’s so much I want to say. My heart’s brought me this far. I won’t give up now.”
* * * *
The nearly one hundred year old housekeeper would not let William and Blake in to McDonald’s castle.
Burly Scotsman stood on each side of the woman while he ranted and raved over thunder.
“Don’t trust no Sassenach with knowing where my laird is. Bad enough he done and married one,” the gnarled woman said.
