Bitterness stirred in her. "He just wants me to make him feel good. That's why he sent money all those years, to ease his conscience, like my mother said."
"Damn it, Raven, you have got to be the most stubborn filly I have ever run across in my entire life. You don't know that's why he did it. Maybe he felt a genuine responsibility for both you and your mother. Oh, to hell with it"—he popped the reins to start the carriage rolling—"I just hope you've got enough decency not to beat a dead horse."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means it's pointless for you to condemn him for something he's probably already suffered for more than you and I will ever know. But if that's what you want to do, I can't stop you. And I suppose if you really make him miserable, I'll be glad to let you ride out.
"But for the time you're here," he added hesitantly, as though uncomfortable with the words, "I want you to know I'll be around should you need me."
"That's... nice," she managed to say around the sudden lump in her throat.
"And there's something else."
She dared not ask him what it was.
"What happened between us on the trail..."
"Yes?" she prodded, burning to know what was on his mind.
"No hard feelings." He flashed a broad grin. "We'll forget about it, all right?" Lord, he thought, heat rising within, he hoped she didn't notice how his voice shook a little and how he was trying his best to cover up what he was really feeling. But something had to be said. They had experienced a lot of crazy emotions along the way, some of which would doubtless nag him for a long time... maybe forever. He had never met anybody like her before and knew, somehow, he never would again.
Raven managed to say she agreed, careful to keep her face turned away. When they'd first met, she had refrained from looking at him lest he see something to make him suspect she might not be a boy after all. Now she could only pray he would not see she was more of a woman than she'd ever been, and he alone was the reason why.
"Those people standing on the porch," she said nervously. "Who are they?"
"That's Julius and Lisbeth, and the Negro woman is Mariah. She's been their mammy since they were born. She's also the housekeeper."
"Mammy?" Raven was confused. "You mean like a mother?"
"Sort of. She took care of them, wet-nursed them. Don't Indian women nurse each other's babies?"
"Only if the baby's mother dies, or has no milk. Was that why she nursed them?"
Steve hesitated. Raven was naive about so many things, and while sometimes he found it refreshing, she could also make him feel damned uncomfortable. Like now, when she was waiting for him to explain about mammies. Since this was all a new world to her, a new culture, he figured she had a right to have her questions answered, albeit on a delicate subject. "Well, the truth is, some women would rather not nurse their babies themselves. So if they're wealthy enough to have slaves, they get one who has a nursing baby of her own to feed theirs, too."
"But why?" Raven persisted.
"Different reasons. They're too busy, some of them. Others, I've heard, fear it will ruin their, uh"—again he faltered—"shape. And they don't want to be disturbed during the night. Things like that. So they let slave women do it for them."
Raven was appalled. "I think that's terrible. I can't imagine an Indian woman handing over her baby to another woman to feed just because she's busy or worried about her shape." She made a face. "I'll probably never get married and have babies, but if I did, I'd never let anyone else nurse my baby unless it was absolutely necessary."
With a surreptitious glance at her ample bosom, Steve secretly doubted she'd have a problem. "Well, it might be best if you keep your opinions about such things to yourself."
"It doesn't matter anyway," she retorted grumpily. "I won't be here long enough for it to matter what I think."
Mariah could wait no longer. She lifted her gray skirt and petticoats so she wouldn't trip and ran down the steps. She loved Mister Steve and got down on her knees every night, praying he would stay at Halcyon after Master Ned passed on. He was good and kind and all the slaves loved him, and maybe if the pretty young thing sitting next to him was his wife it meant he was going to settle down.
"Thank the good Lord you're back, Mister Steve," she called as the carriage finally rolled to a stop. "We've missed you so much."
"And I've missed you, Mariah." He avoided looking at Julius and Lisbeth. There was no telling what they were thinking right then, probably that he had brought home a wife. But they would have to wonder awhile, because he planned to leave it to Ned to tell them about their stepsister.
He lifted Raven down from the carriage. He could tell she was nervous. "Just remember what I told you," he said, so low that no one else could hear. "I'll be around if you need me."
"I'll remember," she murmured, thinking how his touch was always reassuring, his nearness calming.
She smoothed her skirt, swallowed hard, took a deep breath, tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and prepared to face whatever lay ahead.
Steve waited till they reached the porch. Then, steeling himself, he announced, "I've brought someone to see your stepfather. He can make the introductions later." He paused, wondering how the hell he was supposed to present her, then simply said—"This is Raven."
Chapter 13
Her hair was the color of midnight. That puzzled Ned. He had always thought angels had golden hair. And he had to be dead and seeing an angel, because when he had been shot, a fire exploded in his chest and blood seemed to be everywhere. There had been scant seconds of consciousness, filled with indescribable anguish, just long enough for him to offer a prayer of contrition. Then he had faded away. He was sure he had died and the beautiful young woman bending over him was receiving him into heaven, and he was relieved to have mercifully achieved salvation.
Ned stirred, smiling in his sleep as his dreams continued to take him to happier times.
When he had finally rallied from his delirium, weak from loss of blood, he had realized Lakoma was an angel only in the true sense of the word and had then proceeded to fall in love with her as she nursed him back to health.
She had spoken a few words of English, and he taught her more, but eventually the omnipotent language of love stripped away any barriers of communication that remained between them.
She had found him slumped on his horse, which had lumbered along to take him many miles from the battle site at San Jacinto. Days blended into weeks, weeks faded into months, but he hadn't cared about the passing of time, for each moment spent with Lakoma was a kind of heaven all its own. He never knew he could be so happy.
But then the message from home reached him: his mother was dying. He had to go back to Alabama. And in his dream he was holding Lakoma against him, saying good-bye and promising to return.
"I fear you will not come back to me," she whispered. "I feel I will not see you again until you cross the rainbow bridge." Ned asked her what she was talking about, and she told him of the tale handed down by her people. "They believe the rainbow is actually the bridge to the spirit world, and those we love who have gone before us will be waiting to take our hand and lead us across. If you do not come back to me, I will despise you with every breath I draw in this life, but if our love is true, no matter what happens, we will one day meet on that bridge and be together for all eternity."
He vowed over and over to return, so that they could spend the rest of their lives together and one day cross the rainbow side by side.
But then the dream, so vivid, became a nightmare just as real. He was floating across the rainbow and its dazzling hues. The earth below was an endless sprawl of green, interspersed with rivulets of crystalline blue waters. Seraphic music wafted from the other side of the arch, and he held out his arms in gleeful anticipation of Lakoma coming to greet him as she had promised. Only Lakoma did not appear out of the dazzling white light awaiting at the other end. Instead, the glow became a black mist from which a grotesqu
e monster materialized amid gales of taunting laughter to lunge at him and send him plummeting to a netherworld far below.
He awoke with a shriek of horror and bolted upright to stare wildly about the room. His body was wet with perspiration, and he gasped and heaved with terror; then relief flooded as he realized it was just a dream.
Sinking back against the pillows, Ned felt the heavy rise and fall of his chest as his heartbeat struggled to return to normal. How much longer till the nightmare became real? he wondered miserably. How much longer could he cling to this life before going to the hell that surely awaited him?
The curtains were tightly closed. Dr. Sawyer had told Elijah to see that Ned got as much sleep as possible, so Elijah kept the room dark, despite Ned's grumbling. He had, however, left a lantern turned down low, in case Ned wanted to use the chamber pot on his own. But Ned could not remember the last time he had been out of bed, possessing neither the strength nor the will.
When Steve had first left for Texas, Ned's hope that he would be able to find Raven had helped him fight the sickness ravaging his body. But as time passed, hope faded, and he felt himself growing weaker.
He was thirsty and about to reach for the bell that would bring Elijah when his eyelids began to feel heavy once more. If he went back to sleep, thirst would not matter. He could return to the happy times with Lakoma... before the nightmare took over.
And he could stand the horrible ending, because the good part made up for the bad.
* * *
Raven was aware that Lisbeth and Julius were watching as she and Steve went up the stairs. He had introduced her to them without explanation, and while they had asked no questions, she had a strange feeling that they knew who she was. She told Steve about it when they could not be overheard, but he assured her they couldn't possibly. "Ned said I was the first person he'd ever told, and I doubt he'd ever tell either of them till after he knew you were found. Like I said earlier, they've never been close."
As they walked down the hall, he suggested, "I'd better go in first and break it to him easy that you're here."
"But I don't want to stand in the hall alone. If anyone comes along and sees me, I won't know what to say to them."
"You won't be in the hall. There's a small parlor. You can wait there."
They reached the end of the hall and the ornate double doors to Ned's wing of the house. Steve was about to go in when he heard a voice calling softly and turned to see Elijah coming from the direction of the servants' stairs. News traveled fast, and he had come as soon as he heard. "Praise the Lord! Master Ned wouldn't say where you went, but he kept telling me you'd come back. Then he just gave up. Seeing you is bound to make him feel better." His eyes fell on Raven, and because rumor was already rampant, he dared to venture, "Have you gone and took yourself a wife, Mister Steve?"
"No. This is Miss Raven," Steve said as she managed a shy smile. "How is Ned doing?"
Elijah kept his eyes on the young woman. She was a pretty thing, but she looked scared. He wondered why but was not about to ask. "Well, he's no better than when you left, and he might be a bit worse. I can't remember the last time he was on his feet. Doc Sawyer is still giving him that tonic he makes up from alum and blackberries, and when he gets to hurting real bad, I can give him a little opium.
"Every day he asks if there's any sign of you," he went on, "and I always remind him how he don't have to ask, 'cause he knows you'll come see him the minute you get back. He might be sleeping now. Doc Sawyer says that's good for him, 'cause he needs his rest, but I don't see how it can be when he has them bad dreams and wakes up screaming. And just before he does, he always calls out a name I don't ever recollect hearing before. Sounds like he's saying Lakoma. I asked him once who it was, but he acted like he was embarrassed and told me to mind my own business, so I don't say nothing about it anymore."
Steve and Raven looked at each other. Raven could not help but be touched that Ned Ralston was dreaming about her mother even now.
"We'll call you if we need you, Elijah." Steve opened a door and led Raven inside.
She breathed deeply of the pleasant smell of the leather sofa and chairs positioned cozily before a fireplace. The walls were lined with books, and the floor was covered with a thick white rug.
Steve told her to wait where she was as he walked toward another door, but curiosity propelled her to follow.
Almost before he could notice she was behind him, the sound of moaning caught his attention. Raven heard it too and stood on tiptoe to peek over his shoulder into the shadowed room. The wretched sounds were coming from a large bed, where she could see someone thrashing about.
"The nightmares Elijah was talking about," Steve said. "He must be having one now."
Raven hung back as he walked over to the bed. She could tell it was positioned between windows, for a tiny bit of light filtered through the thick curtains.
Steve touched Ned's shoulder and shook him gently. "Wake up, Ned. It's me. I'm back."
Ned did not hear him. He was reaching out for Lakoma's hand. As she had promised, love had transcended everything in the end, and she was waiting with a forgiving heart to lead him into paradise for all eternity. But then, just as they were about to touch, and he could actually feel the warmth emanating from her flesh, her fingertips drew back into the pastel clouds. He called to her, but the sound of his voice was drowned amid shrieks of taunting laughter. Black claws reached out of the haze to seize him and send him plummeting toward hell.
"Lakoma, no, no, come back!" he screamed, arms flailing out, groping, grasping in blind desperation as he lunged up from the pillows, trying to escape the darkness and reach the light.
His eyes flashed open.
Raven, captivated, had moved to stand beside the bed without realizing it.
Ned looked at her and whimpered, "Oh, God. This is heaven and you are real, Lakoma." She was as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair still shone like a blackbird's wing, but her eyes were wide with fright. Why was she scared of him? He reached out to her. "There's nothing to be afraid of, my darling. Just take my hand and lead me home."
Raven jumped back and Steve pushed her to one side as he tried to make him understand. "No, Ned, this isn't Lakoma. This is Raven, your daughter. I found her and brought her back. You aren't dreaming. This is real."
Ned stared at Raven, rubbed his eyes, and stared again. "I don't believe it."
"It's true, Ned." Steve patted his shoulder.
"I just don't believe it. You really found her." He began to cry. "Oh, thank God, thank God. Open the curtains. Let me see her in the light. Please. I've waited so long."
Raven was still clutching the little reticule that matched her dress, squeezing it so hard she realized her fingers were hurting. Steve saw her distress and moved from Ned's side to put his arm about her and help her to a nearby chair. "It will be all right," he soothed. "This is a big shock for both of you, and you need to relax a minute."
He opened the curtains, and the room was instantly flooded with sunlight.
Ned blinked against the glare, then propped himself on one elbow to drink in the sight of his own flesh and blood. His vigor was renewed by excitement, and suddenly he felt exhilarated, reborn. "Tell me everything. I want to know everything about you."
Raven looked to Steve in desperation. "Ned, not so fast," he said. "You need to take it easy."
"I can take it easy in my grave," Ned fired back impatiently. He struggled to sit up, and Steve helped prop him against the pillows. "Ring for Elijah. Tell him to bring us something to drink. Do you like tea, child?" he asked Raven anxiously. He could not tear his eyes away from her. Suddenly it was important to please her in every way.
"Tea would be fine," she managed to say in a small voice.
Dismissing Steve with a wave of his hand to do his bidding, Ned's gaze swept her hungrily. "Lord, you're the image of your mother. So lovely. How did Steve find you? And how is Seth? Oh, I've so many questions. Eighteen years of questions." He
offered a smile that quickly faded when he saw a cold shadow cross her eyes. He reminded himself it was only natural she would harbor resentment over his not appearing in her life till now.
"Seth died," she said quietly.
"I might have known. But who has been taking care of you since?"
She lifted her chin. "No one. I can take care of myself."
He looked to Steve, who nodded with twinkling eyes to confirm that she most certainly could—though he was not about to confide to Ned how she had gone about it.
"But you're here!" Ned exulted. "That's the important thing. And I will see to it you're taken care of for the rest of your life."
Raven was beginning to feel trapped. The man was sick, and she did not want to upset him, but dear God, she couldn't help having loathed him for as long as she could remember. "I don't want you to take care of me," she blurted out, "and the truth is, I only came because Steve made me. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you have to understand that I don't want anything you have."
To her amazement, he nodded. "I had an idea you'd feel that way, just like I figured you wouldn't come willingly."
"Well, I'm here."
She had rapidly assessed him and decided he was nice-looking pite being pale and sickly. His dark hair was peppered with gray, and he had good, chiseled lines in his face.
She went on. "I think I should also make it clear that I don't think I can forgive you for hurting my mother."
"I'm not going to ask you to."
Steve was bewildered to hear that, wondering how Ned could say such a thing after he had gone to so much trouble to get her there. He had thought that was the whole point of his quest, so Ned could beg her forgiveness and set his soul to rest.
Just then Elijah arrived and was surprised to see how Ned was almost sitting up and actually had some color in his face.
"Tea and cakes, please," Ned requested heartily, then said to Steve, "You can run along now. I'd like to be alone with my daughter."
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