Divine Deception (7 page)
Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure
“
Yes, Trader. Thank…thank you,” she whispered.
After mounting Kelly, Fallon looked back once as she rode off, in time to catch a glimpse of the long dark hair revealed when Trader again removed the hood. She raised her hands to her lips, lips still throbbing with the residual delight of his kiss. She swallowed hard, trying to regain her senses, but was only further distracted by the sweet flavor of peppermint in her mouth. She would never forget his kiss, the feel of his hands on her face, the sense of her body pressed to his. And she would forever long for all she could never have again. But as she rode on, wiping tears from her cheeks, Fallon Donavon smiled, for the moments in Trader Donavon’s arms, the taste of his kiss, everything else sacrificed, was worth those moments.
Yet Fallon became increasingly unhappy. As the days and weeks passed, the intimate moment she had shared with Trader at the fence repeated itself in her dreams, both waking and sleeping—all of which she thought she could cherish, all of which she thought would carry her through. But she had come to the realization she had fooled herself; she could never be happy being Trader’s wife in name only. She wanted him to love her as she loved him, just as deeply and as fiercely with the emotional and physical passion of true lovers.
Fallon tried to occupy herself helping Patty in the garden and kitchen. Patty was wonderful company, but each day Fallon could not wait until after supper. For each night after supper, Trader had taken to the habit of sitting in the parlor. Fallon could not resist following him, sitting in a chair across the room, and glancing at him when she thought he might not be aware of her. Often he talked with her, or she played the piano while he read. He seemed comfortable in her company. Yet he was ever guarded.
Fallon continued to ponder the severe scars on Trader’s body and convinced herself they were wounds sustained in the war. She never dared ask him. She wished with all her heart she could convince him that she did understand. Then somehow perhaps she could break the invisible barriers he had erected about himself. Then somehow perhaps he would accept her as a friend and confidant at least.
“
Patty,” Fallon ventured one hot afternoon while the two women sat on the porch snapping beans. “Did Trader fight in the war?” She watched closely and noticed Patty’s hands faltered at her work.
“
Why ever would you think that, Fallon?” Patty casually asked. Fallon took a deep breath and boldly continued.
“
Those immense scars on his chest and back, they resemble the ones my own father received during the war from a Confederate saber.” Patty cleared her throat and shrugged her shoulders. Fallon continued. “Or maybe Trader battled over a woman. He is Southern, isn’t he, Patty?” Patty rested her hands in her bowl of beans and looked up. She had tears brimming in her eyes as she spoke.
“
I’m to tell you absolutely nothing, Fallon. I swore it to him before I ever knew you.”
“
I’ll never repeat anything, Patty. Please, it may help me to…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
Patty looked away. “He’d hate me ’til the day he died, probably send me away. I love it here, and I love all of you! In time, I believe you’ll weaken his defenses, Fallon. Be patient.” The rarely unhappy woman wiped her cheeks with her apron and went back to snapping beans. Fallon knew it was wrong to push her further and returned to her own bowl. “He did fight for the Confederacy, Fallon, even though he was loyal to the Union. I’ll tell you only that,” Patty whispered.
Again, Fallon’s mind went dashing into considerations.
Perhaps he is in his forties or fifties
, she thought.
What if he is that old? My being only eighteen, he’ll die long before me
!
Panic suddenly gripped her. Her hands began to shake. The thoughts were terrifying! She quickly drew Patty into a light conversation, desperately attempting to distract herself from such unfathomably painful thoughts.
“
These…these are the most delicious-looking beans I’ve ever seen, Patty,” she stammered.
“
They’ll…they’ll be good for supper,” Patty said, nodding and forcing a smile.
That night, however, fear seized Fallon once more. Tears filled her eyes, running like tiny rivers down her cheeks. Trader could be as old as her father! And her father hadn’t lived to be fifty. It took hours of restless tossing and turning, hours of gut-snarling anxiety before Fallon fell asleep. When she woke the next morning, she was more miserable than she had been in a very long time.
Fallon saddled Kelly and rode to the field where she knew the hired hands were working on the fences. Trader was there overseeing the work. Again, he had removed his shirt but wore the hood. He must’ve seen her riding up and strode to meet her, greeting her with a nod of the hood as she dismounted.
“
What brings you out here?” he asked. The tone of his voice led her to believe he was not displeased to see her.
She began wringing the reins she held tightly in her hands and hoped her voice wouldn’t falter. “Trader, I know I promised not to ask you any personal questions,” she began. As Trader drew in a deep and irritated breath, she charged ahead quickly, “But I just want to ask one thing, for my own peace of mind. I mean…how old are you?”
There was silence from within the hood. Fallon startled as Trader burst into entirely amused laughter. Fallon stood mesmerized. She had never heard him laugh. In the four months she had legally been his wife, she had never heard him laugh. It was a wonderful sound! It was a deep, mirthful laugh.
With a sigh and a hand to his chest, he asked, “Why in the world does it matter to you when we…well, why does it matter?”
She felt herself blush and began to lose her nerve. “Well, my father didn’t even live to see his fiftieth year, Trader. I lost him. If I were to lose you…” she broke off as her voice failed her.
“
I see,” he said, immediately solemn again. “Well, no need to fear, Fallon. If something happens to me, I’ve willed you everything. You’ll never have need to want for anything.” His tone was harsh.
“
You think I want your money?” Fallon snapped, suddenly furious with him. She lowered her voice when she noticed the workmen had look in their direction. “You really think that’s my concern?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Well, it’s certainly not my handsome face or magnificent body that you want, now is it?” Fallon felt herself blush. His outburst was entirely vulgar! And yet she could not help her eyes traveling the length of him quickly. “Why did you marry me, Fallon? It wasn’t for my charming personality nor my dashing heroics. And considering that we know no intimate, physical relationship that might find you wanting to sleep in my bed—that leaves my money.”
She felt the tears of hurt and rage begin to fill her eyes as he continued.
“
And that’s fine because that is why we married, so you would be secure. So never you fear, Fallon; I’ll not die anytime soon, and even if I do, you’ll have everything you have now so—”
She couldn’t contain herself any longer. Reaching out, she shoved him as hard as she could.
“
What?” he exclaimed, stumbling backward several steps.
“
You’re an idiot, Trader Donavon!” she snapped again, capturing the attention of the workmen. “You think I’m some kind of spider, don’t you?” she continued. “Just waiting for you to die so I can have all your ridiculous land and money. I don’t care about your possessions, Trader! I just want to be able to feel secure…to know I have years and years before I have to worry about being alone. You’re such a horse’s…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. Instead, she took a deep breath and turned to mount Kelly.
“
I’m not as old as your imagination is conjuring, Fallon,” Trader muttered quietly. She didn’t look at him.
“
Thank you. That makes it all right for me,” she snapped, clicking her tongue to Kelly.
Trader reached up, taking hold of the animal’s bit, stopping her.
“
Fallon,” he said hesitantly, “I’ve…I’ve sent for your mother. She’ll be here tomorrow. I felt you should have her here. She’s much worse.” Fallon looked down at the hood.
“
You what?” she whispered.
“
You heard me,” he said.
“
Is she well enough to travel? And what right do you have to send for her? I’ve never asked you to, and besides, the skunk that got into the house ruined the guest room. Where on earth did you think we will put her?”
He cleared his throat. “In your room,” he said. “It’s the nicest, and I knew you’d want her in there. I’m sure you can endure staying in my room during your mother’s visit. The sofa in the parlor will serve me.”
Fallon felt the tears escape her eyes. “Why did you send for her?” she whispered.
“
She’s your mother, Fallon. You need her, and she needs you, and you don’t have to hide your uncle’s character from her now. She thinks you’re happily married, doesn’t she?” he asked.
Fallon looked away, ashamed. It was true. She had written her mother that she was deliriously happy and in love and loved in return. It was true; she was in love.
“
The doctors say she hasn’t much time, and she wrote to me asking if she could visit you. And of course, I wanted it for both of you,” he explained.
Fallon humbly looked down at the hooded figure. “Thank you,” she said. Trader nodded, slapped the horse’s flank, and sent her off in whirl of confusion and conflicting emotion.
Fallon had been stunned at her mother’s weakened and pallid appearance when she stepped from the train. Summoning her innermost courage, she had joyously embraced her mother, trying to ignore the scant, frail figure that returned her loving embrace. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she seemed unable to keep them from springing.
“
Oh, Mother!” Fallon said once they were comfortably settled in the backseat of the buggy “You’ll never know how I’ve missed you.” Ben clicked his tongue, signaling the team to move on.
“
Darling, I know. I’ve missed you all the more,” Mary Etta Ashby said. “I had to see you once more, my angel. You understand, don’t you?”
Fallon nodded. She knew her mother was dying. She was living out her last days. She would not worry her by pretending to think differently. Still it was excruciating, the pain in her heart, the overwhelming feeling of impending loss. How would she find happiness knowing her mother was gone?
“
Tell me about your Trader,” Mary Etta remarked, coughing into her handkerchief. “He seems so…mysterious. Yet from his letter, I can tell he’s a magnificent man.”
“
He’s a wonderful man. A completely compassionate human being,” Fallon said somewhat hesitantly.
Mary Etta put a thin, comforting hand on her daughter’s knee. “I know, Fallon. He’s told me everything.”
Fallon looked at her mother in astonishment. Trader had told her mother? Told of their marriage being a farce, revealed Fallon’s letters as lies? “He told you?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
“
Yes, darling,” her mother assured her. “He told me. And I will tell you this: someday he will find the courage to fully reveal himself to you. Be patient. I’m sure it must be very difficult to be in love with a man, married to him, and never have seen his face. But physical appearance is often the least important aspect of a loving relationship.”
Fallon was bewildered. Had Trader revealed everything to her mother or not? “What…what exactly did he explain to you, Mother?”
“
Why, that he is constantly cloaked…hooded. I only assume he must bear some sort of disfigurement that causes him to hide himself from the world. He didn’t mention the exact nature of the failing, only that the two of you have found complete happiness in spite of it. Oh, I do wish I would have had the opportunity to see my first grandchild. I’ve dreamed of that moment for so long. Then again, I’ve dreamed of this. To see you happily married to a wonderful man who would care for you, protect you, treat you as the treasure you are.”
Fallon was struck speechless for a moment. She could not begin to think of a response. Somehow her mother had been given the impression Fallon and Trader shared a normal husband-and-wife relationship despite his disfigurement. As her mother’s eyes filled with tears, Fallon’s thoughts immediately turned to the pain her mother must endure because of her illness.
“
Mother?” she asked, suddenly concerned.
“
I’m so sorry, darling,” her mother interrupted as she dabbed at her moist eyes. “Charles used to be a fine man. A very fine man! I had no idea he had sunk so low. I promise you I would never have sent you to him if I had known. And why? Why, oh why, didn’t you tell me something of it in your letters?”
“
It’s in the past, Mother. You needn’t worry about it. How were you to know? And anyway, it wasn’t all that intolerable,” Fallon lied, forcing a smile.
“
Your Trader has told me of the conditions in which you lived, Fallon. He’s told me of the marks on your body caused by Charles’s abuse!” her mother cried softly. Mary Etta dabbed at her tears, which ran freely down her once-rosy cheeks.
“
It’s done, Mother. I’m well, protected, and happy now.”
“
And you have your Trader.”
Fallon observed the look of peace settling on her mother’s face. She could not disrupt that expression. She would not torture her mother’s tired mind with the truth. And so she said, “Yes, I have Trader.”
