Harlequin Historical February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Major's Wife\To Tempt a Viking\Mistress Masquerade (20 page)

After Seth's return from Richmond, it took only one day and his demands were met, including several other stipulations he'd added to the list of benefits the Indians would receive. The meeting gave a way for his anger to escape—somewhat—but the void left in his chest was then larger than ever.

Ironically, a telegram had caught up with him that evening, one that told him it was still unknown where the St. Clair sisters were. He'd burned the note and then, since there were still a few days before his scheduled return trip west, he took a train up to Boston, hoping that seeing his family would help him know if he was capable of feeling again.

His mother was shocked to see him, and happy. As was he, since it had been years. His stepsiblings were almost grown, but other than that, everything felt as if he'd left just yesterday. In Boston, that was. Inside, he felt as if he'd aged fifty years the past week.

It was his third day there when his mother invited him to sit and chat in front of the blazing fire that kept the freezing winds blowing off the bay from frosting over the inside of the house. He remembered working outdoors on days like this, when the ice and rain had turned his fingers stiff. It had been like that the day she'd sat him down and told him he was going to West Point.

Not a single gray hair could be seen in the black tresses his mother always kept pinned up in a crown, and her blue eyes looked young and vibrant as she told him stories of things that had happened during his absence. Amanda Parker-Wadsworth would never look old, his stepfather, Ralph, had said when Seth had commented on her appearance. Because she didn't act old, and that was what kept her young.

Seth had laughed good-heartedly at the explanation, while another small corner of his heart broke loose, as it always did when Millie appeared in his mind. She'd be a hundred and still twirling around like a youngster, with laughter shining in her eyes. Her antics and delight had made him feel young, carefree, too.

“You've grown awfully quiet,” his mother said.

Pulling his thoughts back to the present, he shrugged, and then stood up to add a log to the fire. “Ghosts, I guess.” He flashed her a smile. The house was old, and they all talked about the ghosts of generations gone by.

“Past or present?”

Something clicked in his mind, like the snap of a stick in the woods that told you someone was watching, following. He sat, pondering all that weighed heavily upon him, before he answered. “I don't know.”

“Tell me her name.”

Seth glanced up as a shiver shot all the way to his toes.

His mother smiled in an understanding way. “You are a grown man, one I'm very proud of, but you're still my son, and I've known since the moment you walked through the door that something's troubling you. A mother's intuition tells me it's a woman. One you love very much.”

He shook his head. “I can't love her.”

“Why?”

“It's too...” A heavy sigh left his chest.

“Too complicated? Too hard to explain?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he answered, staring into the flames.

“We have all afternoon.”

Drawing in a breath, wishing it could cleanse him, he shrugged. “I could talk all year and not understand it.”

“Maybe,” she said softly, “it's not for you to understand. Something you just have to accept.”

He let out a lackluster chuckle as his insides churned. “I could never accept what happened.”

“Why?”

Running a hand through his hair, he wished he could do something, anything, to release the energy bottled inside him. He pushed himself from the chair and crossed the room to stare out the window. There was nothing to see except leafless trees and a dusting of snow covering the ground. Nothing to grab his attention and make him forget.

Coming up behind, his mother rubbed his arms, patted his shoulders. “She's probably as miserable as you.”

“No, no she's not,” he insisted, yet he had to wonder. Hope.

“I'd beg to differ,” Amanda said.

He spun away from the window, angry there was nothing to see. Angry at himself for still caring. Angry...just angry. “You don't even know her.”

“Then tell me about her.”

“There's nothing to tell.”

“Does she have black hair, blue eyes?”

“No,” he said, growing lost in the vision in his head. “They're brown. Her eyes and her hair.” He swallowed at the lump forming. “Her eyes are unbelievable. They glimmer in the sunlight, in the firelight, like you wouldn't imagine.”

“And her smile? Is it like an angel's?”

“Yeah,” he said, but then changed his mind. “No, it's more like a pixie's. Whimsical and magical yet, mischievous at the same time.”

Chapter Fifteen

A
nd that's how Amanda Parker-Wadsworth, with her gentle, prodding questions, broke through his shell. Before Seth even realized it, he was telling her everything. From how he became a major to the reason he was sitting here talking about the most wonderful woman on earth, and why he couldn't love her.

“I knew a man once,” his mother said, “that was so stubborn no one could tell him anything once he set his mind. Everything was black-and-white. No shades of gray. This way or that. No middle ground.” She let out a sigh, then giggled. “Goodness but he drove me crazy, and dear heavens, what I wouldn't give to see him one more time.”

Seth frowned, wondering who she missed so.

“Your father,” she said. “Sean Parker.” Smiling, she patted Seth's knee, sitting beside him on the long couch. “I love Ralph and the children we have together as much as I do you and Sam, but that doesn't mean I stopped loving Sean.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Oh, he was a good man. A wonderful man, and you remind me so much of him.”

Pride swelled in Seth's chest, so much a hint of embarrassment warmed his cheeks.

“But land sakes, he was stubborn. Always had to be in charge. Get the last word in.”

Seth now wondered if her compliments were insults.

“I have to go upstairs and get something,” she said, standing up, “but while I'm gone, do me a favor?”

“Sure,” Seth answered, glancing at the wood box. Hauling some in would give him something to do besides think about Millie and how he wanted to go to Richmond. Beg her to forgive him. The box was full, though, so he turned, wondering what else his mother needed.

“While I'm gone, I want you to think about one thing, so you can answer a question I have.”

More questions. He should have known. “All right, Mother, what's that?”

“Why are you here?”

“Becau—”

His mother pressed a finger against his lips. “Think about it while I'm gone.”

Seth wanted to growl. He was here to see his family. Hadn't seen them in years. Frustrated all over again, he moved to the window, stared at the nothingness.

When his mother returned empty-handed, which made him believe she'd simply wanted to give him time to think, he tried to fathom the answer she wanted.

“So, why are you here?”

He grinned, though it was so false it hurt. “To see my family.”

Smiling, she shook her head.

Seth shook his head in turn and asked, “Then why am I here?”

“You're here because what you really want is to go to Richmond and ask Millie to marry you, but just like when you wanted to go to West Point, you feel you can't. That you'll be letting others down if you do that. What you really want is for me to tell you to do it.”

His heart slammed against his rib cage. She was right. That was exactly what he'd hoped.

“I won't tell you what to do this time, Seth. This is between you and Millie. You're the only ones who can figure this out.”

Frustrated, he stood, walked across the room. In that, too, she was right. “Millie...” He pressed both hands against the fireplace mantel. “There were a million times she could have just told me the truth.”

“And a million times you could have told her you already knew it.”

He spun around, tried to come up with a reason why he hadn't.

“Love isn't a curse, Seth. It's a blessing.”

Bitterness bubbled in his throat. It felt much more like a curse. Always had.

“Does it really matter who was right or wrong?” she asked.

His mind and heart were being torn in two.

“I'm not saying forget the past,” his mother whispered. “Just accept it and move on.”

Frozen for a moment, Seth's mind flashed to Per-Cum-Ske, the battle in the Wichita Mountains and the aftermath, him staring at the silent faces of friends and family.
We cannot help it. I did my duty.
The leader, who now had three wives, had definitely moved on. So why hadn't Seth?

“Here.”

He glanced at the small box his mother held. “What's that?”

“Just a family heirloom I saved for you.”

Lifting the lid revealed a woman's ring, a circle of diamonds around a sapphire.

“It's the one your father gave me.”

Seth ran a finger over the jewels. “I thought you weren't going to tell me what to do.”

“I'm not. You can do whatever you want with that ring. It's just something I wanted you to have.”

What he wanted was Millie. Forever. “She opened things inside me I didn't know were closed,” he admitted.

“It takes a powerful love to do that.”

Seth nodded. More powerful than anything he'd ever known. “What if she can't forgive me?”

His mother shrugged. “It'll take courage to find out, and you were born with more courage than any man I've ever known.”

“Maybe when it comes to battling Indians, but...” His spine stiffened. He'd retreated that night from their hotel room, but he hadn't declared defeat. That word wasn't in his vocabulary. Never had been.

* * *

“But I can't leave without it, Lola,” Millie said. “I know I had it last night when I took a bath.” Retracing every step she'd taken, she rounded the bathtub, searching for the bride's necklace. “I laid it here on the bench so it wouldn't get wet.”

“I'm sorry, honey,” Lola said, pulling her head in the window. “I laid the towel over the edge of the sill to dry. The necklace must have flown out. I searched the rooftop and the ground, but the wind might have carried it off.”

Frustration made Millie's insides sting. It was just a necklace, and probably wouldn't sway Seth either way.

“I'll keep looking,” Lola said, “and when I find it, I'll send it to you. I promise.”

“See that you do,” Millie said, leading the way out of the room and down the stairs. She had to leave now or she'd miss her train to Washington, and then the one to Tulsa.

“You're sure you don't want me to come with you?” Lola asked yet again.

“I'm sure. If he won't talk to me on the train, I'll rent a horse and follow him all the way to the fort, where I'll sit on the front stoop, making him step over me day after day.”

Lola laughed. “You've become one determined woman.”

“I have to be. I've never before wanted anything like I do this.” Millie stopped at the front door, and saw the carriage waiting at the end of the walkway. The driver had already loaded her luggage. “I'm going to miss you very, very much.”

“Well, don't. I'll be here, keeping this place in order for whenever you return.”

“Visit,” Millie corrected. “With my husband and children.”

“I don't doubt that,” Lola said, as they hugged.

Millie held on tight for a moment, wishing she didn't have any doubts. She did, but she wouldn't focus on them. And she wasn't being selfish, either; she was being true to herself. There was a difference. A big difference. Stepping back, she nodded toward the house. “I told Mr. Wells if you need anything he's to see to it, and an account has been set up in your name for household expenses and such. And Nadine will be bringing little Louie over for you to visit. Give him a kiss for me. Oh, and be sure to tell Mr. Evans I say hello.”

“Mr. Evans?”

“Yes, Lola, don't try to fool me,” Millie said, grinning. It was amazing how easy it was to see other people were in love when you knew how it felt. “I know you've been sweet on that man for years, but wouldn't leave me and Rosemary. This is your time now. The two of you can get married and live right here. He can keep working at the mill while you take care of Papa's house. Waiting for me and my husband and our children to come visit.”

Lola's dark cheeks turned rosy. “Oh, you little scamp.”

Millie laughed and skipped down the porch steps. “I'll write. Tell you what happens.”

“You do that!”

Millie ran the rest of the way to the awaiting carriage, but little good it did, hurrying so. The train to Washington had barely left Richmond when it screeched to a stop. After a few minutes the porter came along, explaining that a train ahead of them had troubles and they'd have to wait for repairs. In the end, Millie sat on that train for six hours before it started chugging north, and once she arrived in Washington, the train she'd hoped to catch, the one she knew Seth had arranged for their return trip, had already left.

Thwarted, but not enough to give up, she made arrangements for a private car—the train depot in Washington had several to choose from—to be part of the next train headed west, with connections to Tulsa. She was comforted to learn one was leaving the following day, with no layovers and no switching trains. It was a relief after all the delays during her first journey west, and Millie's excitement started to build again. She might still arrive before Seth and the wagons left for Fort Sill.

It was risky. He certainly could tell her to leave. But she'd never know if she didn't try. The cost of the private car was a bit outlandish, but recalling her other rides, including the one with Seth, she figured it would be worth every dime. Especially since it would be five days before she arrived in Tulsa, and she wanted the private space to make sure she looked her best when she met Seth again, and to rehearse exactly what she'd say.

After paying the man for the car rental, which took a goodly amount of the money she'd withdrawn from her account at the bank, she asked, “When can I board?”

“The train leaves town at ten tomorrow night, miss,” the railroad agent said.

“I know that, sir,” she responded, keeping the desperation that the train might leave without her from her voice. “When can I board?”

“Well, it'll be hooked up and ready to roll by eight in the morning, so—”

“Fine, I'll be here by eight-fifteen.”

Frowning, he removed his wire-rimmed glasses and rubbed the lenses on his vest. “That'll make a long day, sitting on the tracks, miss.”

“As well the next five after that,” she said. “Now, could you tell me where I might find a room for the night? Not too far away, please?”

“Half a block up the road,” he said, gesturing to the north. “The Railroad Inn. It's clean and has good food.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that. I'm assuming I can leave my trunk here, and just take my bag with me?”

“Yes, miss. I'll see it's loaded in your car.”

A smile of satisfaction tugged on her lips. “Thank you again. You have a wonderful evening.”

“You, too, miss.”

Feeling lighter than she had in several days, she picked up her bag and almost skipped down the road. Missing Seth still had her heart heavy, but she was determined to find a way to make him listen to what she had to say, and if he couldn't forgive her... She shook her head and kept walking. There was no room for doubt.

* * *

As Seth hurried up the walkway of the general's house, Millie's home, his heart was thudding so hard in his throat each beat threatened to strangle him. A November clipper had kicked in, swirling leaves and tugging on his hat. He may have brought it south with him from Boston, for the weather had dropped several degrees since he'd last been here.

He shivered, not from the wind, but wondering if that was a sign, a premonition of the welcome he'd receive here. Chilly. Cold. Unwelcomed.

Needing a moment, he paused, stared at the porch before him. Trellises framed the steps, and vines, withering in the season, fought to hold on as the wind raced through the wooden lattice work. Something caught his attention and he suddenly found a lump blocking his airway.

Stepping closer, he stretched on his toes and reached as high as he could. His fingertip caught the leather and he untangled it from the wood and vines, and then lowered the necklace to dangle before his face. The bride's necklace. The one he'd placed over Millie's neck before leaving Fort Sill.

Glancing up, he stared at the windows of the second story. Was one of those rooms Millie's? Had she thrown the necklace out, wanting nothing to remind her of him, of their time together?

His hold on the leather tightened.

“Major?”

He turned to the front door. “Miss Burnett,” he said, recognizing the black woman. “I'm looking for Millie.”

“I assumed as much.” She gestured toward his hand. “I see you found her necklace.”

“Yes, it was caught on the trellis,” he explained. Manners told him he should give it to the woman, but he couldn't. He wanted to be the one to give it to Millie.

“She'll be glad to see it, searched for it for hours on end.”

It took less than a second for his heart to leap back into his throat. “She did?”

“Yep.” The housekeeper planted both hands on her hips. “Didn't want to leave without it.”

A gust of wind caught him, made him wobble, or maybe just her statement had done that. “Leave? Where'd she go?”
To Texas? With Martin Clark.
Seth hadn't remembered that little piece until just now.

Lola Burnett was eyeing him thoughtfully.

“It's imperative that I talk to her, ma'am. My train for Tulsa leaves tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, I switched trains so I could come here. Talk to her.” Neither Per-Cum-Ske nor the men had minded one more day of visiting. Actually, Per-Cum-Ske was so busy trading it might be hard to get him on a train.

“Oh, no,” the woman whispered.

“Why? What's wrong?”

“She left for Washington yesterday, to catch the same train as you heading west.”

A mixture of joy and frustration filled him. “Yesterday?”

Lola nodded.

Imagining Millie arriving in Tulsa, without him, of all the dangers she might face, had Seth's insides rolling.

“She'll be fine, Major,” Lola said. “She's full of strength and determination.”