White Dawn

by Susan Edwards

  Hurrying, she ran to do what was necessary.

  From the stable door, John watched Emily enter the church. Would she go through with the wedding? He glanced at the position of the sun. If she did, soon they’d be married. Man and wife.

  He turned and found the stall where his horse waited. The animal nickered softly. “Eat your fill now. We’ll be riding out soon.” Picking up his saddlebags, he finished packing them. After the wedding, he’d head back home—to a shack that would be unbearably empty without Emily.

  He thought of his cousin. Willy would gloat. And his grandfather? John’s heart grew heavier. He’d wanted to make the old man happy.

  John led the animal from the stall and started saddling it. He wanted to be able to leave immediately after the ceremony. Any prolonged goodbyes would be too painful. She’d made her decision. He’d promised not to push.

  Push, hell. He wanted to shout at her and shake some sense into her. He rested his forehead on the saddle. He’d told himself he could let her go, had accepted it, felt the pain of it—but in truth, he’d only deluded himself. The pain he felt now was far worse than he could have imagined. And it would get worse.

  His heart felt numb. It had broken beyond the point of pain. His eyes burned. He couldn’t deny the truth any longer: she didn’t need him anymore. She had her father now, and from what he saw, the man loved her. Staring out the open door, seeing only a gray cast to the sky, John realized the sun was truly gone from his life.

  John spotted Matthew heading his way. He turned and resumed his travel preparations.

  “You planning on just giving up?”

  John didn’t turn. “It’s better this way. She has you now. That’s all she needs.” His lungs couldn’t expand enough to draw in a deep breath, so his sigh wasn’t as big as it might have been.

  “There’s a reward for her return.”

  Those words brought him around. His eyes blazed as he stared at Emily’s father. “It wasn’t for the money. Was never for the money.” He tightened the girth strap. When his horse protested, John loosened it and gave the animal a rub behind the ears by way of apology.

  “I know, son. I was just checking. So, I repeat: You just going to give up? You’re not going to fight for her?”

  John glanced over the horse at Emily’s father. He looked like a man set upon righting things. “Would have thought you’d want her to yourself a bit.”

  Matthew grinned. “I do. But I want her happy more than that. And I don’t think either of you will be happy apart. Think about it. Her mother and I were denied a life together. Don’t want my daughter to have the same difficulty. You might not get a second chance.” He turned and left John to his thoughts.

  Staring at the big, trusting eyes of his horse, John grimaced. He wanted to fight for her. But how? What can I do to convince her to stay? I’ve said the words. What else is there?

  There had to be some way to convince her. He paced. He looked around. The horse just bent its head to greedily snatch up bits of hay strewn on the ground for dinner.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emily entered the small, whitewashed church. She found Father Jacob at the altar, getting ready for her wedding.

  “Child, you should be getting ready,” he scolded lightly. But his eyes were kind and questioning.

  “I need to talk to you, Father.”

  The cleric led her to a bench and motioned for her to sit. She couldn’t. She paced, then faced him. “I’m angry at my mother.” She stopped herself. “No, it’s more than that. Sometimes I hate her. And I shouldn’t. She’s gone. But it doesn’t seem to matter.” She clenched her hands.

  The hurt and anger she felt for her mother felt like a hard, cold ball in her stomach. Seeing her mother’s grave had made it grow until Emily felt as though she’d choke on it. She knew enough of what hate could do to a person, and she was afraid of what it might do to her if she didn’t get rid of it.

  “Sit, Emily,” the priest said.

  Ready to be healed, she obeyed.

  “Tell me why you feel this way.”

  Emily gripped her fingers tight. “She knew why my stepfather hated me and treated me so badly. She knew and never stopped him. Then she left me to die.” The words were torn from her. “She abandoned me. She was the only person I could count on, and, in the end, it didn’t matter. I didn’t matter.”

  Father Jacob took her hands in his. “Could she have stopped him?”

  “No. But she didn’t have to go with him. She could have stayed with me. And lived,” she cried, tears streaming down her face. If her mother had refused to go with Timothy Ambrose, had stayed hidden in the woods, she’d be alive today. And that was another reason, Emily realized, why she couldn’t forgive her.

  “There are no easy answers, child, and you know that. Sometimes things happen for reasons we cannot understand.”

  Emily wiped at her tears. “You mean, if Timothy hadn’t left me behind, if we’d just continued on, I’d have been killed, too?” That thought also haunted her dreams. If her stepfather hadn’t left when he had, the savages would have spotted their little campsite and killed them all.

  The kindly priest smiled grimly. “Perhaps. Or you would have been taken captive.” He stood. “Let the past go, Emily. Forgive your mother. And—”

  “Timothy wasn’t my father,” she said, cutting him off, unable to mask her defiance.

  The priest took her hands in his. “He was in some ways. A poor father, but he had that role for sixteen years. And he did provide for you. Forgive him. Forgive both of them. Don’t judge too harshly, child. You have a choice to make. You can either choose to dwell on the past, or seek a future free of bitterness. You know what resentment and bitterness lead to. Don’t let them destroy your heart. Think about that. And pray.” Then the priest walked away, leaving Emily alone with her thoughts.

  Emily closed her eyes and made herself relive that day. She saw how her mother had tried to fight for her, saw her grief when her stepfather rode off. Then had come the attack.

  Emily also recalled how her mother and Millicente had tried to find a way to leave. The tension eased from her when she remembered that Millicente had said she’d rounded up help to go after them but had arrived too late. Though the help came too late for her mother, Emily knew the woman had been trying to get Emily to safety. To happiness.

  Perhaps her mother had left her behind in the hope that Millicente and her husband would find her, that any fate was better than one with the vengeful Timothy Ambrose. Emily didn’t know for sure, but suddenly, she believed it.

  Her mother had loved her. And even with her dying breath she had tried to confess the truth to her. Maybe her mother had been weak, unable to stand up to her husband. But in the end, she’d set the wheels in motion to make things right. Perhaps that was enough for Emily to make peace with it.

  She closed her eyes and drew an old, happy memory of her mother reading to her. Emily sat in her lap, secure in her mother’s arms. Even after reading the book, her mother had continued to hold her until Emily fell asleep. It had been a rare day when Timothy had been gone. Emily still recalled the soft, gentle voice that had sounded like sweet music in her ears as sleep claimed her.

  With a start, Emily realized her mother hadn’t been talking. She’d been singing! The words were lost, but not the voice. She’d thought it angels singing to her while she slept.

  Tears slid down her cheeks. The tiny memory was so much. It was a sign that the woman had cared; she had just hidden it from her husband so that he would have no more reason to hate Emily. Her mother had loved her.

  Leaving the church, Emily ran to find John. She had to talk to him before the ceremony, wanted them to marry for real—forever. Seeing her father coming toward her, she asked, “Have you seen John?”

  “In the stable,” he said.

  Emily flung her arms around him. “Thank you, Father. I’m going to marry him.”

  Running through the door, she crashed into someone. Str
ong hands reached out to steady her. “Easy, Sunshine.”

  “John! We’re getting married.” Through her tears, she stared up at him. Tall, handsome, he was the most precious sight she’d ever seen.

  John narrowed his eyes at her, his fingers still gripping her shoulders. “Damn straight we’re getting married. I was just coming to tell you. And not just for today. I’m not letting you go. We marry. We stay married. And we stay together.”

  Emily grinned. “Precisely. For better or worse. No matter what. You’re mine. You’re my friend, my lover, and soon you’ll be my husband and the father of this child. So you’d better be sure, because I won’t let you go.”

  John froze, his gaze searching hers. “Do you mean it, Sunshine?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes.” She reached up and touched his face, skimming the tips of her fingers up the hard planes of his cheekbones. “I was so wrong. I love you, and if you’re still willing, if you still love me, I’d like to be your wife. Forever.”

  “Because of the baby.” His eyes were guarded even though his arms wrapped her in his embrace. The sudden change was obviously too much for him to hope. She had to convince him!

  “Because I love you!” The words glided over her tongue. She hadn’t said them in a long time, and they sounded so right. More than right: they sounded heavenly.

  “Love wasn’t enough before. You were afraid to trust me. Why now?”

  Emily couldn’t look away from the happiness shining in his eyes, from the clear path she saw into his very soul. “I didn’t trust myself, John. I was so afraid of making the same mistake as my mother, I let my own doubts stop me from listening to my heart. I was angry. But you’re not Timothy; I’m not my mother. We are two different people. We’ll make mistakes, but they won’t be their mistakes.”

  “No, I’m not him, and you are not your mother. And what’s more, you’ll fight me or anyone else who tries to hurt your child.” He smiled proudly at her.

  Laughing softly, Emily reached behind him and ran her fingers through his hair. “Our child. And I’ll fight anyone who tries to hurt you as well.” Lifting herself up onto her toes, she brought his mouth to hers and kissed him.

  The kiss was warm and sweet. John groaned and kissed her back gently, tenderly, fighting to keep the passion at bay. She was his—forever. His Lady Dawn had returned, bringing the brightness of a sunny day.

  “Do you know how much I love you, Emily?”

  She pulled back. Her lips curved into an impish grin. “I think so. You might have to show me often, though. And tell me over and over to make sure I don’t forget.”

  John chuckled. “Every day, Sunshine. Every day.” He lowered his mouth back to hers.

  “In case the two of you have forgotten, there is a wedding in a few minutes and neither of you is dressed.”

  John broke off the kiss. They turned to face Emily’s father, who was looking mightily pleased. “I think she’s beautiful just as she is.” He smoothed the hair from her face. It tumbled down her back in ripples.

  “Ready to get married, Sunshine?” he asked her. “For real? Forever?”

  “I’m ready,” Emily said, staring at him.

  They followed Matthew out, back to the church, and inside took their places. John kept his eyes on Emily as she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. He couldn’t stop himself from meeting them, from taking her arm so he could walk her the rest of the way. Matthew joined a sobbing Millicente. The older woman seemed so happy.

  John repeated his vow when asked, his gaze on Emily. He let her see that he meant each word he spoke. He held her hands while she spoke her vows with tears in her eyes.

  Then, when Father Jacob asked if he took her for his wife, he brought her hands to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. “I do.”

  Emily reached up to caress his cheek as she repeated the same. “I do.” And she did. Forever. She waited for the priest to declare them man and wife. To her surprise, Father Jacob then asked John, “Do you, John Cartier, claim this child that Emily carries as your own child, to love the babe in sickness and in health? No matter what, so long as you shall live?”

  John lowered his hand, the one that still gripped Emily’s to her abdomen. His fingers lay over hers. Beneath the warmth of their hands, Emily felt a slight fluttering. He replied, “I do. Whether this child is a boy or a girl, I’ll love it with all my heart.”

  “Then I pro—”

  Emily stopped the priest with her hand. John’s touching addition to their vows was the sweetest, most beautiful thing he’d ever done for her. He couldn’t have found a better way to prove his intentions. And she wanted to repay him in kind.

  “I, Emily Ambrose Sommers, give this child into the loving hands of John Cartier, the man I love more than life itself. He shall be this child’s father forever.” She brought his other hand down to rest over their child.

  John blinked rapidly, but the tears of joy and love he shed were there for all to see.

  Father Jacob set his Bible down with a wide grin. “Then I pronounce you man and wife. You are now a family.”

  Emily lifted her face to her husband’s. “I love you, John,” she whispered.

  “I love you, Mrs. Cartier.” His kiss didn’t disappoint her, and no one protested when he scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the church. He set her upon his horse and together they rode off to find a private glade where they could start their forever.

  Epilogue

  Emily sat with her back against a tree in her favorite spot: her glade. The sky was still gray, the air cold. She glanced around. Finding the log that was still there, though decayed and rotting into the soil, she sighed. So much had begun here. Pain. And joy. Everything.

  Across the way, her husband and Ben chased little Sarah in the early dawn. The sun hadn’t risen completely yet, but as this was their favorite time of day, and the three-year-old was often up before dawn they often came here to start their day.

  Yawning, Emily wondered how her daughter could wake with so much energy. The child was a bundle of energy from the moment she opened her eyes until she fell into an exhausted sleep each night. So curious and eager to explore, the girl hated to sleep. It was as if she was afraid she’d miss something new and exciting.

  Childish giggles floated on the breeze. Emily shook her head at the sight of the two men giving her their undivided attention. Sarah loved the attention and was hopelessly spoiled; John and Ben didn’t care. Barking when Sarah ran toward the woods, Fang ran after and blocked her. The wolf protected and watched the child. Sarah pouted and protested, looking like a tiny angel with her white-blond curls and bright blue eyes. Ben managed to distract her by pointing out bugs in the rotting log.

  John ran over to his wife. “Whew. I swear she’s going to wear me out.”

  Emily grinned. “You love it, and you know it.”

  Scooting next to her, he put his arms around her and drew her to him. “Yeah. I sure do.” His eyes followed his daughter’s movements.

  “You happy, Sunshine?”

  “Very,” she said without hesitation. Not once had she regretted coming back here to live.

  She and John had gone to Kentucky, where Sarah had been born. To her surprise, Millicente had offered to go with them, and then had married Matthew. She and Emily’s father were now very happy together on his farm, and Emily was glad. Her father deserved a second chance at love.

  When Sarah had been three months old, Emily, Sarah and John had traveled to St. Louis to meet up with John’s grandfather. From other trappers returning to the city, they’d learned that Gascon hadn’t been well enough to travel downriver. They’d returned to the shack immediately. John had been afraid his grandfather would be gone, but he’d still been alive. And the minute he’d seen them—and his great-granddaughter—he’d gotten a new lease on life. He’d only passed away this year.

  John, as usual, seemed to know what she was thinking. “You know, we can leave and return to the city. With Gramps gone, th
ere’s no reason why we have to live out here.”

  Emily leaned her head against her husband. “After all the work you and Ben did to build our new home?”

  “Sunshine, it’s not much. I can buy you a much grander place in St. Louis—or anywhere.”

  “But it wouldn’t be the same. I love our home.” She glanced up at him. “I have what I need out here.” And she did. She’d found living back in civilization confining. She wanted freedom for herself, and for her daughter. She wanted Sarah to grow up without the strictures of society. She wanted her child to experience all that life had to offer. Between their yearly trips back to city life, and the schooling Emily provided, Sarah, when she became an adult, would be able to choose her own path.

  “Have you heard anything from your cousin?” she asked. John had sent word downriver about his grandfather’s passing that winter.

  “Not yet. I expect that we’ll see him in St. Louis. Now that Gramps is gone, he’ll want his inheritance.” Sadness laced John’s voice.

  Emily put her palm on his jaw. “You can’t change him. At least he seems to be doing reasonably well.” And he was.

  To John’s surprise, after that initial confrontation when they first saw Willy in St. Louis, he’d seemed to have come around. He’d accepted the fact that John and Emily were married.

  To protect the truth of Sarah’s parentage from Willy—whom they couldn’t trust to keep it a secret—they had let him believe John was the father. With the baby’s pale hair and blue eyes, Willy hadn’t had any reason to doubt it.

  At first he’d been furious, but John had been prepared. Peace in his family was more important than what belonged to whom. He’d given Willy what he wanted most: money. He’d withdrawn a large portion of his funds from the bank—enough to placate the man.

  John had no need for all of it. He’d kept enough to purchase a home for his family, and to have enough left over to live on until he found work or started his own business. Now things seemed to have calmed between the two cousins. Emily still didn’t trust Willy, but at least there was peace between him and John.