Authors: Sandra Chastain
“She’s responding to the medication. Now it’s simply a matter of monitoring her levels so that she won’t have some kind of reaction. She isn’t out of the woods yet, but she’d holding her own. It’s a good thing you brought her when you did. Why’d you wait so long?”
“I didn’t know. I’m not even sure
she
understood the danger. Then last night she came to me and said that Jacob—that I should take her to the doctor. Her voice sounded strange, as if she’d memorized her speech.”
“She’s still a bit out of it. She keeps smiling and glancing past my head as if she sees someone who isn’t there. In spite of her illness, she’s really quite beautiful, Sean—certainly not a fruitcake, as David described her.”
“She believes that it was fate that brought her here, Ryan, that she’s a descendant of the first Carolina Rogan, and she thinks the
Butterfly
is haunted,” Rogan said, and came to his feet.
“Haunted? You mean as in a ghost? Have you seen him?”
“No. There is no ghost,” Rogan said firmly. “Thank you, Ryan. I’d like to see her, then I have to go.” Rogan walked to the bedroom door and glanced inside at the still figure in the white metal hospital bed. In the darkness Carolina made a little sound, drawing him reluctantly to her side.
Rogan watched her sleep. He let out a deep sigh and leaned down to brush her lips with his.
“Get well, Carrie,” he whispered. “You wanted to
find the
Scarlet Butterfly
. You thought it was fate, that we belonged together. You were wrong. Jacob sank her himself. I don’t know why yet, but I will. I guess you won’t understand, but I’ve already decided that I’ll send her back to the bottom before I let them take her. Ryan is right. I’m bullheaded and stubborn. I expect people to do what I think is proper, and maybe I’m learning that what’s proper isn’t always best.”
She wanted to protest, but she couldn’t seem to speak. Jacob’s there all the time, she wanted to tell him. But Rogan wouldn’t have believed her anyway.
“I think Jacob
did
save your life, that it’s been Jacob who’s watching over you, not me. So you see, love doesn’t make things right, Carrie. Both of us ought to know that by now.”
“I’m Ryan, Sean’s brother. How are you feeling?”
Carolina opened her eyes.
The man standing in the doorway wearing the white coat over the red Atlanta Braves T-shirt was as impressive as her Rogan, but without the sinister bearing. His hair was short and full, cut in layers just a bit too long, allowing it to hug the collar of his sport shirt. A stethoscope hung around his neck.
“You’re the doctor?”
“Yep, the best in St. Marys, Georgia. That’s because I’m the only general practitioner here.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Three days.”
“Where’s Rogan?” she whispered.
“Gone back to his schooner to do battle with the state’s recovery team on their way to claim the
Butterfly
.”
“But they can’t do that.” Carolina sat up, swinging her feet off the edge of the bed, then caught herself
as dizziness swept over her. “We’ve got to stop them.”
“I’m afraid that even Rocket Rogan can’t stop them.”
“ ‘Rocket Rogan’?”
“That’s what they used to call him when he played for the Georgia Bulldogs and ran all over the defense.”
“Rogan played ball?”
“Rogan played hardball, even then. But this time I’m afraid he’s met his match.”
“But—it just isn’t fair. The
Scarlet Butterfly
belongs to Rogan. They have to believe that.”
“Knowing Sean, if there was a way, he’d have found it. I suppose you know how tunnel-visioned he is. If he wants a thing, he gets it, no matter the expense.”
There was bitterness in Ryan Rogan’s voice, the same kind of rapier sharpness that she’d heard in Sean’s.
Sean
. She’d never thought of him as anything but Rogan.
Rogan
, special, apart from all others, captain of his ship.
But there were other Rogans. And this one was a doctor who’d likely saved her life, and she hadn’t even expressed her appreciation. “Thank you for taking care of me, Dr. Rogan,” Carolina said, glancing down at the hospital gown she was wearing. “But I have to get back to the
Butterfly
. Where are my clothes?”
“I’m afraid that Rogan brought you here in a sheet. But I’ll have my nurse pick up something for you at lunch.”
Ryan walked over to the bed and began to check her vital signs. “Whatever possessed you to go without
your medication? That was very dangerous. You must have known that something like this would happen.”
“My doctor warned me. I didn’t think it would happen so fast. And I didn’t want to leave him. He’s so alone.”
Ryan gave a harsh laugh. “Sean? If he’s alone, it’s because he wants to be. He turned his back on his family—on me especially.”
“Why, Ryan? I heard you two talking. I don’t have any brothers and sisters, but if I did, I couldn’t imagine turning my back on them.”
“It’s a long story, and one I think you’d best get from him. I guess I ought to thank you for forcing him to come back here, to ask me for help. For the first time in years, we talked. I don’t know what will come of it, but at least it’s a beginning.”
“You seem to be a nice man, Ryan. So is Rogan—Sean. I think it’s very hard for him to let himself care.”
“He cares about you. You’re the first—since Beth.”
“ ‘Beth’? Who is Beth?”
“Beth was our sister. Sean loved her very much. Until now, she might be the only person he ever loved unconditionally.”
“What happened to Beth?”
“She died. Sean blames me for her death.”
Carolina couldn’t even think of another question. Sean believed his own brother killed his sister? No wonder he’d become a recluse, closing himself away from the world. No wonder he chose to spend his time with a boat rather than with his family. He probably figured that at least the boat wouldn’t betray him.
She realized that Ryan was waiting for some comment. “And are you to blame?”
“No, and even if I was, I’ve tried to make up for it by establishing a free drug clinic to help others who get on drugs and can’t stop. He knew she was experimenting with drugs. So did I. We got them from a friend of mine. In the end I didn’t know how bad she was.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed in pain, but he didn’t try to absolve himself. This kind man kill someone? Carolina’s mind refused to accept that, just as it refused to accept the idea that Rogan was some rocket man who intentionally ran roughshod over his family. Whatever he’d done, he’d done in the name of love, just as her father had.
“When is he coming back?”
“I don’t think he is. He would never have come this time, except for you. Sean doesn’t break his word—ever. And he swore he’d never speak to me again. I’m not sure what was worse for him, your condition or having to go back on his word.”
Carolina felt her spirits fall. He’d gone. And he wasn’t coming back. What they’d shared hadn’t meant anything to Rogan. She was the one who’d fallen in love, who’d gambled that if she stayed with him, he’d see that he cared too.
But he did. Damn him, she knew he did. Otherwise why would he have broken his vow and asked his brother for help? Ryan was wrong. Families were dysfunctional. Certainly her own had been, but family was still family. In spite of his high-handed ways, her father had done only what he’d considered best for her mother, and for herself—just as Rogan had done.
But three days later Rogan still hadn’t returned. Ida came by for a visit and to report that the state authorities had booked rooms at her inn for the following week.
Carolina made up her mind. If there was a way to save the
Scarlet Butterfly
, there was only one person who could find it.
She went to the phone and dialed her father’s number.
There were times when Jacob wasn’t working on the house, or stocking it with supplies, and Carrie would get him to tell her stories about his travels. The one she liked best was the legend of the scarlet butterfly.
Rogan turned the page eagerly. At last he was about to learn about the schooner’s name. Carolina would be excited. For a moment he almost called out her name, a thing he’d done without thinking so many times in the last week.
Rogan let out a deep, painful breath. He’d never expected to miss her. He’d never realized that he could share so much, simple things that didn’t mean anything. He remembered how fascinated she was with the Spanish moss, the birds, the plop of a fat frog when he jumped into the water. For a woman who’d always had the best, she’d been as excited over learning to fry catfish as she might have been over eating in the finest restaurant.
But Carolina was gone. She’d almost died because he’d been so involved in preserving his solitude that he hadn’t paid attention to her condition. If it hadn’t been for Jacob, she would have. Rogan hadn’t wanted
to admit it, but he’d seen the captain. Not once, but several times since he’d returned, the ghostly figure had appeared at his side with a questioning expression on his face.
Finally Rogan had said in exasperation, “The girl’s fine. Go back to wherever you came from and quit hovering around. I don’t believe in ghosts. Why are you here?”
“I believe I’m here to fulfill a promise to take care of Carolina and her child.”
“Well, she doesn’t need you. I don’t need you,” Rogan snapped, as the apparition faded away. Rogan swore. “Now I’m the one talking to a ghost!”
Rogan turned back to the diary. Clearly Carrie and Jacob were waltzing around the growing sexual attraction between them. What wasn’t clear was the child. If Carrie wasn’t carrying Jacob’s child, whose was it? And if Jacob had taken her away, was it because he was in love with her, or because she’d tricked him? Rogan pushed away one final thought of Carolina and began to read.
Jacob says that there was an island in the Pacific on which beautiful scarlet butterflies came to lay their eggs in the only place in the world where they could reproduce, a special place near the top of a volcano. The volcano had been silent for many, many years. But suddenly it came to life again, spitting molten lava high into the air. Finally it spilled over, destroying the butterfly’s special place and rolling toward the sea, killing everything in its path. For months the island people prayed to the goddess who lived inside the angry mountain—to no avail
.
Finally the high priestess and guardian of the sacred mountain told the people that the only way to
appease the goddess was by sacrifice. They must give up the most rare and beautiful thing on the island
.
Animals, pearls, and finally a maiden were sacrificed. But the eruptions continued. Finally a little boy trudged to the top of the mountain and released his greatest treasure, a scarlet butterfly he’d captured and kept in a cage. The rumbling stopped and the mountain grew calm. The people were very happy. Only the boy was sad because the butterfly was the last of the rare creatures. They were never seen again
.
Carolina must have cried as she wrote, for there were splotches on the paper. Later, according to the journal, Jacob announced he was going to join in the coming war and began to change the colors and markings on his schooner. He asked Carrie to give the schooner a new name.
“
The Scarlet Butterfly
,” she’d answered. “
Because it will always protect you
.” And Jacob had begun carving a new figurehead for his ship, a butterfly.
“Jacob, you were a fool,” Rogan thought aloud. “The woman was obviously crazy about you, and you’re about to go off and leave her to fight a war in which everyone lost. Why didn’t you just stay here and nobody would have ever known?”
“Lord help me. I wish I had.”
This time Jacob’s voice didn’t come as a surprise. And Rogan knew that, like Jacob, his life had been changed too. Where he’d once been content to fish and swim alone, to listen to music and read books, now he missed sharing those simple pleasures with someone—with Carolina. He’d called Ryan once, just
to make certain that she’d responded to treatment, but he’d refused to talk to her.
He refused Ryan’s request to come back for a simple visit, as well as his invitation to the local Rockfish Festival. He couldn’t imagine why Ryan would ever expect him to face a crowd, even if he was lonely.
Carolina would be gone, and Ida and Harry weren’t exactly the kind of company he’d want, even if he were going to the festival—which he wasn’t. The only reason to go into town was to visit the market and pick up the sails for the
Butterfly
. He wouldn’t stop by Ryan’s office. Ryan wouldn’t expect him to come. Carolina wouldn’t be there.
Rogan drove toward town. For the last three days he’d studied his alternatives for saving the schooner. Legally, he had none. Morally, he had none. He was going to lose her, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.
Losing the company had been hard. Losing the
Butterfly
would be worse. Sometime during the last few weeks the schooner and Carolina had become entwined symbolically in his mind, and he couldn’t separate the two. A once-proud ship, broken and discarded, had been brought back to life. Carolina, equally damaged, would survive, but would she be broken? He drove down the main street toward the courthouse.
What the hell difference did it make? He’d pick up the sails and hand them over to the state. And he’d let the state figure out how to get the
Butterfly
to the wharf. It would be their problem. Good riddance.
The streets of St. Marys were teeming with people.
Rogan looked around and cursed. No parking places. By the time he finally found a space and ran into the office of the state court judge, Rogan was late. He was stopped short by the man sitting at his attorney’s table—Angus Evans. What was he doing there?
Then he knew. Carolina had called her father—to help him.
“Well, Rogan, we wondered if you were going to join us.” The judge frowned, and made it clear with his eyes that Rogan had best just sit down without causing any further delay.