When the Splendor Falls (99 page)

“It comes full circle, Leigh. Shannon’s son saved you. He honored me, by honoring you. Shannon spoke of me, perhaps Stalking Wolf told the tales of our hunting days. They never forgot me. And he loved her enough to break tribal custom and have her buried in the white man’s tradition at Riovado, where he first saw her, and where I found her grave when I rode up there the day after I arrived at Royal Rivers. She must have died just a year or so ago. The earth is still newly turned,” Neil said, feeling a strange sense of release as he was finally able to speak of something he’d kept hidden deep for so many years.

“And all these years, lying to my father, I’ve felt something dying inside. I’ve never felt as if I could look him in the eye. But she was right. It would have killed him to know about her. My God, to think I’ve never spoken of this to anyone. To be able to share it, finally. Someday I would like to tell you about my life with the Comanche, about Shannon, about She-With-Eyes-Of-The-Captured-Sky. You would have loved her, and she would have loved you, Leigh,” he said, staring out at the blue sky surrounding him. “And one day soon, we will ride to Riovado.”

Leigh held back the tears, her heart breaking as she saw the young boy he’d been, caught between two worlds, feeling betrayed by one, rejected by the other, a desperate secret his alone to keep. But kept it he had, and because of his tortured silence, others had not suffered.

Leigh walked up behind him, her slender arms sliding around his waist as she enclosed him in her embrace, laying her cheek against his back. “That is what love is about. To be able to share. And I do love you with all my heart, Neil, my love.” She said his name lovingly and he drew strength from her words, from her warmth touching him and he knew that never again would he be alone.

* * *

A month had passed since the night of the barbecue, but Althea still felt as if her tongue was numb from the hot chile peppers she’d eaten. She would never forget that night. It would be one she would long remember with Guy regaining his sight, and the plans they’d made together after that. And then, the following day the announcement that Guy and Lys Helene would marry, and with both her parents’ blessing. Since then, they had made many plans, but the most startling to her had been the news that Nathaniel and Camilla, along with Gil, who’d never been out of the territories, would accompany them to Virginia. Once again they would be part of a wagon train carrying freight, but this time they would ride in style, traveling in the fancy red Concord coach.

A herd of cattle and sheep, and several wagons loaded with supplies, fruit cuttings and seeds, were destined for Travers Hill, where they would be used that first winter, the cuttings and seeds to be planted in the tilled soil that following spring, and hopefully the beginning of many a fruitful, bountiful year to come. But most important, were the two Thoroughbred stallions and several broodmares that had been given to Guy by Nathaniel as an investment in the future—the blooded horses returning to the bluegrass lands they’d been born of, destined to carry on the proud tradition of Travers Hill.

Althea smiled. A month ago, even up until the night of the barbecue, she’d had troubling doubts about leaving Leigh behind at Royal Rivers. But now she had no fears. Leigh and Neil were so much in love, it almost hurt her sometimes to watch them together, for their happiness brought back painful memories of her own happiness with Nathan. Althea’s smile widened. Leigh had confided to her that she thought she might be with child. But she had sworn her to secrecy. Neil didn’t know yet, and Leigh wanted to wait for a very special time and place to tell him. She wasn’t certain, of course, but she had missed her time of the month—something that had never happened to her before, Leigh had told her, her dark blue eyes glowing with the cherished thought of giving birth to Neil’s child. But Althea had a feeling Leigh was right in her suspicions, and she would not be disappointed, for she’d never seen her sister looking quite so beautiful. There was almost a golden radiance about her, a warmth and softness that came of the fulfillment of loving, of having given oneself to another. And she would never doubt that Neil loved Leigh. His love for Leigh was evident in every glance, warming the coldness of his eyes whenever he gazed upon her, and in every gesture, his hand becoming gentle whenever he touched her.

No, Althea thought, she would never worry again about Leigh, for she had found a love that was true and everlasting.

Althea stared at the blackboard and frowned slightly. Carefully, she spelled the word letter by letter. L-A-R-R-I-A-T. No, something was definitely wrong. It didn’t look right, Althea thought, tapping the chalk impatiently against the board.

“There is only one
r
in lariat,” a familiar voice said behind her.

Slowly, Althea turned around, her eyes widening in disbelief.

“Nathan?” she said soundlessly, her face paling so that the smile faded from the man standing just within the doorway. Thinking she was about to faint, he hurried forward, his arms outstretched to the wife he hadn’t seen in nearly three years.

“Oh, my God! Nathan?” Althea cried, then covered her face with slender hands, shaking her head in denial. “No, no, it cannot be,” she moaned, unable to believe her eyes. “It cannot be,” she repeated again, her shoulders shaking with despair and the fear that she had gone mad.

“I
am
here, my love,” Nathan spoke softly, his strong arms embracing her, holding her close against the warmth of a living body, not one cold with death.

Althea raised her tearstained face, breathless with the dawning realization that her husband still lived, that her dearest Nathan stood before her. Slowly, she stretched out a hesitant hand, almost afraid to touch him, to discover she was being cruelly mocked by an illusion.

“They said you were missing. We were informed. The War Department said you were missing. So many were killed. We waited and waited. Every day we waited. We never heard from you,” Althea said, her voice husky with the grief she had borne for so long. “The days and months I sat there wondering what had happened to you, never knowing. That was the worst. My Nathan, lost so completely to me in death because I could not even grieve over your grave.”

Nathan Braedon held his wife in his arms, his eyes searching her lovely face, then his mouth lowered to hers and they kissed, and he tasted the salty tears, and vowed never again would he be separated from her and his family.

“I had no idea I had been reported missing. If only I could have spared you that agony. I am not surprised there was confusion, nobody, whether reb or Yank knew where the other was near Chattanooga. I’ve never seen such dense woodland and impenetrable terrain. After the first battle, I returned to my troop having spent several days lost in the countryside trying to avoid being captured by federal soldiers swarming all over Missionary Ridge. We were in one battle after another, first in Knoxville, then in the Carolinas, and finally, home, to fight again in Virginia. When I finally had the chance to write, little did I realize that you had all left Travers Hill, or that there was no one at Royal Bay,” he said, his eyes shadowed as he remembered his family home in ashes. “I was half-crazed with worry wondering how you were. After a while, no letter ever reached me, and I hoped it was because my regiment was on the move so often, and engaged in so many battles that any mail was lost. I fought on, until last fall, when I was seriously wounded,” he said, pressing a gentle finger against her lips, silencing her fears as he said quickly, “but I am recovered. A little thinner, as you can see, but still all in one piece. I was one of the lucky ones.”

Althea’s eyes seemed to devour him, and she wondered that he could say he was one of the lucky ones, for he was just a shadow of himself, the black frock coat he wore hanging on his thin frame, his trouser legs baggy, his cheeks sunken—but at least he was alive, Althea breathed a thankful prayer, caressing his bony cheek with soft, healing fingertips.

“I was taken prisoner, but being badly wounded, I was sent to a field hospital. Fortunately for me, I was never put on a troop train and sent north to a prisoner-of-war camp. I would never have survived the journey, much less the winter that followed. Instead, a chance encounter saved me. A former Princeton classmate of mine who was visiting his brother in the hospital recognized me, and, as a high-ranking official in Lincoln’s cabinet, saw that I was decently cared for. He and his family were uncommonly kind. I convalesced in Washington, but it was a long convalescence. They wrote letters home for me, but we never heard. When I finally got to Virginia, I found everyone had vanished into thin air. I made the mistake of inquiring of the Reverend Culpepper, thinking he, of all people, might know what had happened to members of his parish. Good Lord, Althea, the man nearly threw me from his newly built church. I thought at first it was because I had interrupted him, he was at the pulpit practicing his Sunday sermon, then I thought it could only be because of that unfortunate incident when Julia scalded the poor fellow years ago, which is carrying a grudge rather too long. But then he said a name which apparently had the power to chill or bring his blood to a boil, I’m not certain, since he became almost apoplectic. The name was Captain Dagger.” Nathan said the damning name, glancing down curiously at Althea, who was looking anything but surprised by the news.

“I am afraid, my dear, the man had reason for his fears, although I will not forgive him for his rudeness to you. That was very callous and un-Christian of him,” she said, telling him of Adam’s midnight kidnapping of the good reverend in order to have him perform a wedding.

“Well, I am thankful, then, that he didn’t send a load of buckshot my way,” Nathan said, a twinkle showing in his eyes for the first time, but then it faded as he remembered Adam.

Althea’s arms tightened around him, knowing what he was thinking. “You saw the graves,” she said.

“My God, Althea. I cannot believe they are all gone. My mother. Adam. And Blythe. Sweet, little Lucy. Whatever happened? She was so young and healthy, so full of life. I found myself seeing again Julia and Blythe in that cart, loaded down with blackberries, that fat pony pulling them up the drive, and Leigh riding like a wild creature around the side of the house. We were all there, that afternoon, sitting on the veranda. Your father sipping his juleps, your mother, glasses perched on the tip of her nose as she sewed, but keeping a watchful eye on everyone. And now, so many graves. I stood there at Travers Hill and felt as if I were in some horrible dream. And God forgive me for what I thought, but for a moment I was thankful, for I did not see your name, or either of those of my children.

“I finally learned from the Draytons what had happened. I will always be grateful to them for taking Adam in at the end and carrying out his wishes to be buried next to Blythe at Travers Hill. I’m not certain if I was relieved or stunned to learn that you’d gone to the territories, to Uncle Nathaniel. The thought of that journey left me shaken. I knew then, however, what the reverend had been damning me about. Yes, he actually cursed me,” Nathan said, smiling at Althea’s shocked expression. “He accused me of being no better than that infamous raider Captain Dagger. I’d always suspected Neil was this Captain Dagger, but when the reverend mentioned the name I knew for a certainty that Neil had been at Travers Hill and had somehow helped to get you out of Virginia. I had no idea until now that Neil had wed Leigh,” he said in amazement. Then he suddenly gave a whooping laugh of great joy, picking Althea up in his arms and swinging her around until she pleaded with him to set her down before he hurt himself.

But Nathan just laughed, holding her all the closer. “Maybe Royal Bay is gone, and we’ve lost everything, but at least you and the children are alive and we are together again,” he said, kissing her deeply.

Althea, finding her breath, stared down into his face with a look of incredulity.

“But we haven’t lost everything, Nathan. Haven’t you been to the cave?”

“The cave?”

“Yes, the cave where you, Adam, and Neil hid after you’d been particularly bad,” she reminded him of his boyhood. “Had you, you might have been rather surprised to find what was hidden away there.”

“The cave! Of course. My God, did Adam—no, he didn’t? Did he?” he demanded, beginning to feel the stirrings of hope.

“He did, with help from my father and Stephen. Everything of value from Royal Bay and Travers Hill was hidden there. The only problem now is we will never find a home big enough to hold everything,” Althea said, thankful that was the biggest of her worries.

“Adam,” he said, shaking his head. “Now I understand why Travers Hill, although still standing, looked as if it had been looted. I was so angry. But you are mistaken,” he added, his voice husky with emotion, “we do have a home. River Oaks, my mother’s home, still stands across the river. I went there after visiting Royal Bay and Travers Hill, thinking you might have gone there. The house hasn’t been touched. Hidden away beneath those oaks, and overgrown with creeper, and being on the far side of the river, no one even knew it was there. It’ll need a lot of cleaning. I’m afraid bobwhites and nightingales have nested inside, but it has always been a fine home. Maybe not as grand as Royal Bay, no fluted columns, but it does have a lovely veranda and a splendid view of the river.”

Althea nodded, knowing her family would find happiness in Euphemia’s childhood home. Suddenly, she frowned. “How did you find me here?” she asked. “Have you been up to the big house? Do they know you’re alive?” she asked excitedly, thinking of Leigh and Guy and the children.

“No, when I rode in, a small Mexican child came running up to me to help me with my horse. I hired it in Santa Fe,” he said somewhat self-consciously, for he was a man who’d never had to hire a horse in his life. “I arrived by stage yesterday evening. And believe me, what I experienced in the war was nothing compared to that ride across the plains. I’m not sure I’ve a tooth left in my head, or a bone that isn’t broken,” he said with a deep laugh, remembering the wild, bone-jarring journey from Westport to Santa Fe in a few hours less than fourteen days. Packed into the coach with eight other gentlemen—and he used the term with deep reservations—they had traveled night and day, existing on hardtack and salt pork, the experience bringing back less than fond memories of army life again.