Alana

by Barrie, Monica

  “Isn’t this exciting?” she’d asked girlishly.

  Alana had shrugged her shoulders but remained silent.

  “Oh–you have such airs,” Marietta had declared, fanning herself elegantly while she smiled snootily at the other two girls.

  Alana had ignored the remark, but she had not been able to ignore what followed as Marietta started talking about her beau, Clayton Drysdale.

  “Whenever he kisses me, I swear I almost swoon. I–” Marietta paused to raise her fan and cover her face, leaving only her eyes for the others to see. “When he kisses me, I get so…warm inside. Sometimes I think I’ll give in to him right then and there. It’s so hard to wait. I do love him so, and I want him!” Her last words, spoken with such conviction, took Alana by surprise.

  “Want him?” she had asked without realizing she’d spoken aloud.

  Marietta looked slyly at her. The other two girls smiled. “Don’t you want Jason? Don’t you just burn with desire?” she’d asked.

  Alana had become embarrassed, partially because of the vulgar talk but also because she had never experienced any such desires. Then her face flushed, she had stood and glared at Marietta. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she’d stated. Without another word, she had left the room, but not before she’d heard the girls giggling at her.

  Outside, she’d leaned against the closed door, but the wood was a thin barrier to the acid of their words. “Can you believe her?” a voice had said. “She puts on those virginal airs but we all know she’s been living alone with no one watching over her, don’t we? And we know how she trapped Jason Landow, don’t we?”

  Alana had fled then from their false accusations–and from her own inability to understand why she couldn’t truly desire Jason and be in love with him.

  Alana had thought a great deal about that exchange and had often wondered why she had never felt the passions of which Marietta had spoken. It had bothered her for a long time, and she had tried to understand that unknown part of herself. She had let Jason kiss her ardently. She had felt his excitement and passion. Try as she would, she could feel nothing in herself.

  She believed that her own coolness toward Jason existed because she had put all her passions into Riverbend. She accepted this as best she could, while understanding what her duties were to her home and land.

  And now Jason is coming home, she told herself, and she would be his, with or without the passions that husband and wife are supposed to have.

  She closed the locket. After replacing the golden chain about her neck, she shut her eyes for a brief moment. When she did, another picture blossomed fully, startling her with its power. It was the same image that had come to her in the garden–it was Rafe Montgomery.

  Alana shivered, remembering her reaction to him. Again she felt the burning touch of his lips on her hand, and her stomach knotted as it had in the garden.

  Forcefully, she opened her eyes and willed his image away. Alana turned her head and saw the sun had set and the horizon was alive with a hundred varying hues.

  She could smell the jasmine in the air, and the scent of rain grew stronger. Only a few insects welcomed the coming of the night, and Alana, waiting to greet the man she had not seen in over four long years, did her best not to think of anything else.

  ~~~~

  Dusk settled over the river country; Alana watched the shadowy form of a carriage pull up the drive. Her nerves tightened, and her legs threatened to give way.

  Refusing to show any weakness, Alana started toward the steps of the veranda. A feeling of dread overcame her. She grasped the railing and took a deep, preparatory breath. Suddenly a warm, strong hand was holding her arm. Support and strength flowed from it to her.

  “He’ll be in a lot of pain from the ride. He may not even be conscious. He takes a great deal of laudanum for the pain, especially when traveling.”

  Alana glanced at Rafe’s face, partly obscured in the shadows of the day’s end. In the drive, some of the household staff and fieldworkers awaited Jason Landow’s arrival. Ben and Gabriel stood at the forefront, ready to carry Jason.

  The carriage was halfway to the house when Alana set her foot upon the first step. A jagged streak of lightning illuminated the sky; thunder followed closely on its heels. “Courage,” she whispered to herself, not realizing she spoke aloud.

  “You have that and more,” Rafe said, releasing her arm.

  Alana whirled to stare at him. Her nerves were ragged, her hands shook, and her mind seemed numb. She was unable to take her eyes from him. She wanted to say something but was afraid that if she spoke, she would lose her courage. Silently she turned and went down the steps and to the front of the waiting group. Her heart raced nervously. Be calm, she sternly ordered herself. I must show no weakness.

  When the carriage came to a halt, Alana stepped forward. In the same instant, the thunderstorm erupted. The violence of the storm was nothing in comparison to the violence of Alana’s emotions.

  The storm’s fury roared about her, but Alana ignored the torrents of rain. She walked proudly to the carriage and gazed up at Jason Landow for the first time in over four years.

  Not in her walk, nor in her face, nor in her eyes did she allow the least sign of weakness to show. No matter what hurt came upon her, her prayers had been answered, and Jason had been returned to her.

  A lancing ache shot through her heart when she looked at Jason’s face. His cheeks were sunken, his face gaunt and filled with pain. His eyes were the worst. They were dull, lifeless, and unseeing.

  She stared up at him and waited, unsure of what to do. Then she felt, more than saw, Rafe Montgomery step into the carriage, and the driver followed suit. Between them, they lifted Jason. Ben and Gabriel waited for the two men to maneuver Jason from the carriage and into their waiting arms.

  Still ignoring the torrents of rain, Alana reached out and grasped Jason’s hand, bringing it to her breasts as she stared into his eyes. Tears fell from her eyes and mixed with the rain that had already soaked her skin and clothing as she raised his hand and pressed it to her cheek.

  Her eyes held his for several more seconds before she spoke. “Welcome home, Jason,” she whispered, unable to say more lest her voice break and the fear behind her mask of welcome show through.

  Jason stared at her but did not speak.

  She released his hand and stood aside so Ben and Gabriel could carry him into the house.

  When she started up the steps after Jason, she felt a strong hand grasp her arm and help her. Turning, she again looked into Rafe’s face.

  “You must give him time,” he cautioned.

  “I know,” Alana replied. Then Alana remembered her other duties. She called out to the driver, who was unlashing Jason’s wheeled chair from the carriage, “Will you stay the night?”

  “I can’t, ma’am. De boss, he wants dis rig back by mornin’.”

  “At least have something warm while you wait out the storm.” Alana called for Lorelei, and an instant later, the housekeeper appeared. “Fix a warm drink for the driver, and food, too.”

  Lorelei, already soaked to the skin, skittered past Alana and Rafe and went to the driver. A moment later, the carriage moved toward the rear of the house.

  Inside, Alana let the water drip from her. “Dinner will be served at eight,” she told Rafe. “There’s time for a bath and a change of clothing.”

  Rafe didn’t speak. He simply nodded his head, looking at her.

  Alana almost shrank back from the intensity of his gaze. She drew her eyes away, searching for something. Kitty appeared just then, and with relief, she asked her to prepare Rafe’s bath.

  When he was gone, she hugged herself, shivering slightly. Then she walked over to the library, now converted to Jason’s quarters, and looked in. Ben undressed Jason, who was still under the influence of his drug. Suddenly, it was too much for Alana to watch.

  She closed the doors and went upstairs to her room, where she undressed and was drying h
erself when Lorelei appeared with two house servants, bringing enough hot water for a bath.

  “You’ll catch a death of a col’ less'n you take dis bath,” Lorelei warned her, and Alana did not argue.

  Once she got into the tub, she closed her eyes and tried to blot out the reality of Jason’s homecoming. But she was unsuccessful, and when she was finished with her bath and began to dress she was still thinking of the changed man she had seen.

  A few minutes later, Alana stared at herself in the mirror. The distant storm sounded like war cannons to Alana’s tired ears.

  In the glow of candlelight, Alana took several breaths to clear her mind. After years of waiting, her fiancé had returned. But, he was no longer the man she remembered.

  He will be again, she vowed silently. I will bring back the Jason I knew!

  She looked at her dress. Five years ago, she would have worn a fine gown, accented by jewels. Tonight she wore a simple off-white dress, an old one that had been an informal dress for nights spent without company. It was one of the few dresses that had survived the war. Most of her clothing had been procured, first by the Confederacy and then by Federal troops, for bandages.

  Her hands went to her hair, which was still damp from the storm, and she secured in its bun. As she lowered her hands, a low knock sounded on her door, and Lorelei stepped into the bedroom.

  “Everything be ready, Miss Alana,” the housekeeper informed her.

  “Thank you, Lorelei,” Alana responded, keeping her voice firmly under control.

  “Let me help,” Lorelei said as she stepped close to Alana. Without another word, she adjusted the dress and fastened the three eyehooks at the back. When she stepped back, she appraised Alana with a critical eye before nodding.

  “It be a long time since I see you dressed like dis. You looks very beautiful.”

  Alana closed her eyes for a second. “Thank you, Lorelei,” she whispered. “How is Jason?”

  “He sho don’t seem to be de same man who left.”

  “But he will be, Lorelei. We have to help him become that man again.”

  She saw the doubt in Lorelei’s eyes but dismissed it. She squared her shoulders. “He is in the library?”

  “Yes’m.”

  Suddenly realizing how much Lorelei had done in the last few hours, Alana took her housekeeper’s hand and squeezed it warmly. But she did not trust herself to speak.

  When Alana left her room, she paused in the center hall to listen to the sounds coming from the guest room at the other end. For the first time in over four years, there was life in the house. She could picture Rafe Montgomery in his quarters, preparing himself for dinner as so many guests had done in the past.

  Enjoying this uplifting thought, Alana descended the curved staircase. When she reached the main floor, she turned and went to the closed doors of the library.

  She raised her hand to knock on the door, but her nerves betrayed her in that moment and she could not. Suddenly attacked by terrible thoughts, she tried to fight them off, but they would not retreat. Her face flamed scarlet with her shame.

  Turning, she rested her back against the mahogany door. After ten years of running Riverbend and devoting her life to it, did she really want to relinquish control to another? And could she possibly love the man who had come home to her?

  She had seen Jason’s dull, uncaring look. It was not the first time she’d seen eyes like that. Her father’s, after her mother’s death, had been exactly the same.

  Was Jason now what her father had been then? No! she told herself, Jason will not be like that. He is not weak.

  With that thought, Alana knocked gently on the door and waited. When no answer came, she called Jason’s name. Finally, she opened the door and went inside.

  3

  Jason was sitting in his wheeled chair. The rough cream-colored cotton of his shirt contrasted with his pale white skin. Alana gazed at him, taking in the haggard, pinched features, and sadness spread through her like a wave. Firming her resolve, she walked toward him. In that moment, Jason opened his eyes.

  “Pretty sight, aren’t I?” he asked, his voice bitter, his words slurred from laudanum.

  Alana willed herself not to see him as he was but as he had once been. “You are home. You’ve come back to me, and that makes any sight of you a pretty sight.”

  “Alana–” he began, but she cut him off quickly.

  “Are you tired from the trip Do you want to join us for dinner?”

  “I’m tired from life,” he whispered.

  Tears blurred her sight. She knelt slowly by Jason. Taking his hands in hers, she looked deeply into his haunted eyes. “So much has happened to you. You must rest, give yourself a chance, and things will improve. You are a strong man, Jason. We will survive!”

  “Will we?” he asked. “Not one day passed that I didn’t think of you. I thought of what it would have been like to be with you, to ride our land together, and live out our lives happily…if this hadn’t happened to me.” Jason grimaced as a jolt of pain lanced along his back. He closed his eyes against it, and after several deep breaths, he opened them again.

  “But whenever I thought of ending my life, freeing myself from this prison of a body, I saw your face before me, and I could not.”

  “We will ride our land Jason, in time we will,” Alana promised, her heart aching with his sadness.

  “No, we won’t.” For a few moments after he uttered those words, his eyes were vacant.

  Alana did not speak; rather, she waited until he saw her again.

  “Did Rafe tell you everything?” he asked in a low voice.

  Hesitantly, Alana nodded. “It doesn’t matter to me, Jason.”

  “It will,” Jason stated. Pulling one hand free from hers, he wiped the tears that spilled from her eyes. His fingers were gentle, his eyes momentarily the same as they used to be. “It will, in time.”

  Then Jason glared at her, his eyes turning into dark, burning coals. “This!” he shouted, slapping his thigh. “This is what’s important. Without legs, I am nothing!”

  “You are Jason Landow.”

  “I am only half a man!”

  “You are Jason Landow, my fiancé, and soon to be my husband,” Alana said in a serenely calm voice.

  Jason stared at her, his eyes slightly less glazed, his head cocked at an odd angle. Then he shook his head. “No, Alana, I can never be a husband to you.”

  “I will not accept that,” Alana stated, ignoring the tears that welled afresh in her eyes. Her loyalty to Jason, and her deep need to repay him for all the kindness he had ever given her, helped to shore up her inner strength.

  She stared directly into his eyes and then grasped his hands and raised them to her lips. She kissed each one in turn without taking her eyes from his. “You are no less a man for your injuries. We are no less betrothed now than we were at the onset of the war. And fathering children is but one small part of marriage.”

  Jason tried to pull his hands from hers, but she would not let them go. Her strength grew in proportion to her determination, fueled by the guilty denial of the thoughts she had had outside the library door. “Listen to me, Jason. I have not waited all these years to be pushed aside. We will be married. We will be husband and wife. We will make a life together here at River-bend.”

  “In name only!” he snapped, his anger heavy in the air.

  “In the most important way: because we choose to.”

  “Alana,” he said in a low voice, “I will not allow you to become my nursemaid.”

  “I intend to be your wife, not your nursemaid. Jason, we have a plantation to salvage, and your shipping business must return to Charleston. We have much to do, and I cannot do it alone. I need you, Jason, I need you beside me.” No matter what her thoughts had been before this moment, Alana fully believed her words to be true, for those were the very words she had been repeating to herself through the years of his absence.

  “Alana, I am dooming you to a terrible life.”
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  “No, Jason, it is a life of my choosing, and one that we will not allow to be terrible. Please, Jason, do not forsake me.”

  Alana’s hands tightened on his. She saw the doubt in his eyes and could almost feel the pain wracking his body. He started to shake his head, but stopped. Then she felt an answering pressure on her hands.

  “Dear, sweet Alana,” he whispered, “I know you are doing this out of obligation. We have known each other too long for that. There is no obligation between us. I release you from your promise.” Jason paused, his breathing loud in the silent room. His face was set in harsh, serious lines.

  “Take your freedom, Alana. Dear God, take it while I still have the will to give it!”

  Alana ignored his impassioned pleas. She saw something else behind his pale blue eyes, something that said the opposite of the words he had spoken aloud. “Do you think I would marry you out of obligation?” she asked, forcing her voice to stay level.

  Again, silence descended in the room. Their eyes locked, and Alana’s heart beat too fast.

  “Yes,” he answered.

  Forcing away the truth of his words, and knowing that she owed him more than she could ever repay, she slowly shook her head. “I will be your wife, Jason, because I want to be. Now,” she said as she released his hands, “it’s time for dinner.”

  Alana smiled, although she did not feel any happiness within her; then she bent and covered his mouth with hers. The kiss was gentle and lasted only a second, but when she straightened, she saw Jason had closed his eyes.

  Stepping back, she said, “When you’re ready to join us in the dining room, call for Ben. He’s waiting to take you there.”

  Jason opened his eyes and nodded slowly. Before Alana could leave, he spoke in a husky whisper. “I am not the same man who rode off to war with a dream in his heart. I hold no promise sacred. Free yourself, Alana.”

  “I am free, Jason, free to be your wife.” With that, Alana left. When she closed the library doors, she turned and started toward the dining room.

  “It’s not what you expected, is it?” came a deep voice from beside her.