The Vacant Chair (30 page)

Morgan slid an arm around her shoulders. “That help?”

“Yes.” Justin’s thoughtfulness put a lump in her throat.

Morgan showed her the new mares and studs he’d bought, outlined the chores he wanted done, then took her out for a ride on Boy-o to inspect the property lines, noting the sections of fencing that needed to be repaired or replaced. It felt good to be on horseback again with the breeze flowing over her skin, and being on Justin’s favorite horse made her feel connected to him somehow. The familiar sweet scent of the emerald green grass soothed and refreshed her.

Once the horses were put away, she went with Morgan back into the house and found Gavin in the kitchen with a glass of lemonade. He poured them each one and started to sit, then hopped up like he’d sat on a nail.

“Almost forgot to give you this,” he said, digging in his back pocket for an envelope. “Ray went into town and came back with it.”

She sat her glass down with a thud. Her heart rattled in her chest as she stared at the telegram. If it was about Justin… It had to be about him, and the only reason to send word now would be if something had happened to him. The room tilted.

“Whoa,” Morgan exclaimed, grabbing her waist with a steadying hand. “It’s all right, honey, just breathe.”

She did, sucking in gulps of air, but it didn’t help. Her blood was like ice water in her veins, so cold it burned.

Gavin glanced at Morgan, then back at her. “Want me to open it?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll do it.” She reached out a trembling hand, took the envelope from him, and forced herself to tear it open. Pulling the telegram free, her heart slammed against her ribs as her eyes skipped over the message.

Justin had been wounded.

The words blurred. “
No
.”

Morgan cursed and wrapped his arms around her, holding on hard. “Oh, Jesus, Bree, I’m so sorry.”

She barely heard him, clinging to his strong frame for a moment with the telegram still clutched in her hand. It didn’t say anything about how severe the wound was.

“I’m so damned sorry,” Morgan was saying.

She shook her head.
Think, Brianna. Most of the wounded men you saw were sent home.
Pulling herself together, she read the remainder of the telegram. She hardly dared hope what it said was true. Was it possible?

“Bree? Honey, say something.”

 “It’s over,” she said hoarsely.

“What’s over?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, laughed even though she must appear crazy. “He’s been wounded and they’re sending him home. He and the rest of the regiment. They’re being mustered out. He’s coming
home
!”

Morgan huffed out a breath and rested his chin on the top of her head. “We thought he’d died.”

“No.” She scrubbed a hand over her face, overjoyed he was coming home yet worried about his condition. She grabbed Morgan by the shirt front and shook him once in elation. “He’s coming
home
.”

Gavin reached out to pat her back. “We’re glad for you, honey.”

Brianna stood abruptly, breaking free of her brother’s embrace. “They’re sending them back to Detroit. I need to get there before he does.”

She needed to make sure he received a proper homecoming. And that meant she had an important task to complete before he got there.

Chapter Thirty

Detroit, MI

June 29, 1865

Siobhan huddled deeper into the crocheted blanket she’d wrapped around herself and reached for the cold teacup at her elbow. The fire burned low, its flames flickering in a hypnotic pattern in the hearth beneath her husband’s portrait. His pipe and other things had been removed a few months ago, and she and Aggie had rearranged the furniture. It no longer looked like a shrine, but a comfortable room to sit by the fire and read in.

Though her health had improved and she no longer took any laudanum, it might have been the middle of January instead of the height of summer for all she cared. She rarely sat out on the verandah to enjoy the carefully tended grounds. Barely went outside at all, except to visit Mitchell’s grave. Even those trips had decreased in frequency over the past months. Instead of going every day, she went only twice a week now. The gardens were bursting with color and life, but she didn’t care to spend any time looking at them. Somehow it was worse knowing that flowers thrived in prolific abundance while her baby lay in the ground.

Her shaky sigh seemed loud in the empty room. To her lonely ears, it echoed off the vaulted wooden panels on the ceiling, further reminding her how still and empty the house was.

Except for Aggie, she was all alone.

And whose fault is that?

The grief came unbidden. War had cost her everything. Her husband. Both her sons. Oh, Justin was alive, but he was as good as dead to her now. He’d left her too. Shoved aside by her icy disdain.

Because of your bitterness.

She clutched the blanket tighter, trying to block out the way her conscience needled her. It was always there, reminding her that she’d pushed him away and it left a greasy queasiness in the pit of her stomach. Because of her harsh words, she would never see her eldest son again, or the children he and his wife would have someday. Her own grandchildren would never know her because of her hateful behavior. Sometimes she wanted to close her eyes and never wake up again.

Siobhan wiped the tears from her cheeks with her palms and pressed her lips together. For all her misery, she didn’t have the courage to take her own life. She was too afraid of botching the job, and the prospect of an eternity of suffering for her sins on the other side terrified her. Staring into the hearth, she wondered what Justin would do if she tried to re-establish contact. He’d be polite, most likely. She’d raised him to be that way. Would he even want to re-establish their relationship after they way she’d treated him?

Cowardice had caused all this damage in the first place. She wouldn’t allow it to control her life any longer. She rose to gather her writing desk from the shelf.

For a long time now she’d known she had no one to blame but herself for the rift between them. He’d been devastated about his brother. On some level, she’d known it, and yet still wanted to hurt him for letting Mitchell die.

As if he could have stopped it. You don’t think he would have done anything to prevent it if he could have?

Yes. Of course he would have. The guilt rose up to press against her aching lungs, making it hard to breathe.

Oh, how she wished she could take back what she’d done. She prayed every day for forgiveness. And now that she’d seen the error of her ways, it was too late to make amends with the only family she had left.

The shuffling of Aggie’s slippered feet came from the hallway, and Siobhan glanced over at the doorway as the housekeeper appeared. “Someone’s come ta see ye, mum.”

A visitor? She hadn’t heard anyone at the door, too engrossed in her dark thoughts. She sighed tiredly, a headache throbbing behind her eyes. “Who is it, Aggie?”

“Miss Brianna, mum.”

Her heart leaped in her chest, knocking a painful tattoo against her ribs. Why was she here? Had Justin been killed?
Please no, please no…
Weaving like a drunk, she steadied herself against her husband’s chair and rushed out into the hall.

As she emerged from the study, Brianna turned, beautiful and radiant in a gown of soft green. A cool, polite smile curved her lips. It was more than Siobhan deserved from her.

She stopped, hand over her chest in relief. That smile meant her son had to be alive. Still, her knees shook. “Justin,” she croaked. “Is he all right?”

Surprise showed in those wide gray eyes. “You heard?”

“Heard what?”

“That he’d been wounded.”

Siobhan sagged, had to reach out a hand to steady herself against the wall.

“No, he’s all right.” Brianna stepped forward as though to catch her, but Siobhan shrank back.

The words slowly penetrated the fog of terror in her brain. “He’s…all right?”

“I wasn’t sure at first either, but when I started demanding answers they assured me it wasn’t serious.”

“Praise God, I thought—” She shook her head to clear it. Why was Brianna here, then? They hadn’t parted on good terms, and Lord knew she’d been awful to the girl.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry. I only thought it would be best if I came in person, rather than send a telegram. I asked Aggie not to tell you of my plans, in case you would have been upset.”

 “Then you’ve…you’ve come to see
me
?” Even to her own ears she sounded bewildered.

“That’s right.” Brianna’s smile was kind, and Siobhan suddenly understood why her son had fallen so deeply in love with this girl. “I have.” Instead of explaining her presence, her daughter-in-law closed the gap between them until the hems of their skirts touched and took Siobhan’s cold hands in her warm ones.

Surprised and humbled by the affectionate gesture, she blinked up at Brianna and an odd sort of calm overtook her. “I’m glad you came,” she whispered, overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness. Perhaps it wasn’t too late for them. Perhaps she could make it right between her and Justin and his wife.

Brianna’s smile widened, revealing pretty white teeth. “I’m very happy you feel that way. I lost my family a long time ago. I would love to be part of one again.” With that she leaned down and enveloped her in a hug.

Siobhan went stiff, her throat tightening at the embrace. Slowly, she slid her own arms around Brianna’s back. Before, she’d been too caught up in her own pain to notice anyone else’s. Now she recognized the pain her daughter-in-law felt. Loss. Siobhan understood it better than most.

Tears burned behind her closed lids. A new beginning, she thought in reverence. Another chance.

Praise God.

Brianna stepped back, eyes dancing. “As for Justin, he’s coming home.”

Her breath snagged. “When?”

“Any day now. They’ve sent the entire regiment home to be mustered out on the first of July.”

Siobhan cried out in joyous disbelief, brought her hands to her mouth. “So it’s over? He’s done with the cavalry?”

“All done. He’ll never have to fight again.”

“Oh, praise God!” Without thinking, she grabbed Brianna about the waist and squeezed.

Aggie came over, crowing in her Scots brogue, and engulfed them both in her stranglehold. They all laughed together, their eyes wet with relief and elation.

Once Aggie released them, Siobhan patted Brianna’s smooth cheek. “Go get settled upstairs in your room, my dear. Then we’ll celebrate.”

“A fine feast this calls for,” Aggie cried, taking Brianna’s arm to lead her upstairs.

Alone in the foyer, Siobhan’s heart overflowed with gratitude. Justin was coming back to her. Even after all she’d put him through, he was coming back.

Overcome with excitement, she returned to the study and dropped onto her knees in front of her husband’s portrait, her hand automatically finding the gold crucifix hanging around her neck. Though she smiled, her lips trembled as she looked up into Brandon’s eyes, captured forever on the canvas. “Our son is coming home,” she told him, hoping he already knew somehow. “He’s coming
home
.”

****

June 1865

The last few miles to Detroit seemed the longest Justin had ever traveled. All around him the men of the Fifth Michigan crowded against the train’s windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of their loved ones as they approached the station.

Brianna would be out there somewhere, waiting for him. He knew without a doubt she’d traveled here to be standing on the platform when he disembarked. The thought of walking into her arms made his heart hammer. They’d been through so much, both together and apart. Sacrificed so much. And a week after his happiness had been dealt the mortal blow of being sent to the frontier, a miracle had made someone in Washington see the light and send them all home. He was almost there.

“Think your lovely wife is out there, sir?”

He glanced over at Williams with a smile. “She’s there.”

“Try and take care not to trample the men getting to her, sir. Would be a shame to come all this way and lose some of the boys the day before we muster out.”

He laughed. Brianna had better prepare herself. She’d be lucky if he let her out of their bed at all for the next week. His blood pounded in his veins at the thought of having her naked body beneath him. Above him. In front of him. Any way he could get her.

The train slowed. Its wheels hissed and the car ceased the swaying motion he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t help but smile at the men’s cheers as the assembled crowd came into view. A brass band blared away at the end of the platform, banners and flags flying high to greet the regiment. His heart swelled and he immediately scanned the crowd for Brianna’s mahogany hair.

But a sudden pain spiked his chest because Mitch wasn’t beside him, and because his mother wouldn’t be here to greet him. He’d already made arrangements to stay in a hotel rather than go home, since it seemed wiser to stop in for a visit rather than put himself and Brianna in the miserable position of having to endure his mother’s bitter disdain again.

“There’s my Charlotte!” Williams cried, pressing his hand to the window.

Justin searched the sea of faces but couldn’t find Brianna. She would be here, wouldn’t she? For the first time he began to doubt she’d made the long trip from Lexington.

Someone threw the door open, and the men poured out amidst cheers and applause. He glimpsed the back of Williams’s head through the crowd as his wife descended upon his tall frame with a tiny newborn infant cradled in her arms. Smiling, Justin looked past him for Brianna, his reconnaissance made easier thanks to his height. Keeping out of the way as best he could, he glanced right and left but still didn’t see her. The smile faded away. His heart sank. Maybe she hadn’t come. Maybe she was waiting for him in Lexington instead.

The crowd started to thin. Then from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of someone waving frantically. He followed the arm in its pale green sleeve and caught a glimpse of mahogany hair.

Brianna.
His feet started moving without him being conscious of it.

“Justin!”

Finally he saw her ecstatic face as she pushed her way toward him through the crowd. Dressed in an apple green gown, she looked as fresh and lovely as a summer morning. The sunlight made her hair gleam with red highlights, and her gray eyes sparkled with joy. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His eyes filled up, pressure building in his chest until his heart knocked against his ribs.

Two steps from him, she launched herself into his waiting arms and wound hers around him, hugging him so hard he grunted and had to laugh. She laughed too, lifting her hands to his cheeks and gazing into his eyes before covering his face with ecstatic kisses. He caught the back of her head in one hand to kiss her as hard and as deep as he could. In return, she gave as good as she got until he had to set her away just to breathe.

“Hi again, angel.”

She ran her gaze over him, her eyes shadowed with concern. “You’re really all right?”

He frowned. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

Her eyes kept darting over him. “I got a telegram saying you’d been wounded.”

Oh, hell…
He pulled his collar aside to show her the short row of stitches on the top of his shoulder. “It was nothing, just a graze from a stupid accident. Damned horse knocked me into a bullet.” He laughed at the relief on her face. “I’m sorry you were worried.”

Her smile was so brilliant it almost hurt his eyes. “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

Justin would never leave her again. “Thank you. I’m happier to be here than you’ll ever know.” He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in, cinnamon, cloves and sunshine.

All too soon she pulled away and took his hand. “Come on.” She looked determined.

He laughed. “Are you dragging me off somewhere private to have your way with me for the rest of the night?”

Her eyes gleamed up at him. “Sorry. You’re going to have to wait a little while longer for that.”

Couldn’t be soon enough for him, but he followed her, humbled by the love shining in her eyes. How had he been so lucky to find her?

When she towed him around the corner into the comparatively dim interior of the station and stopped, he glanced at her questioningly. “What?”