by Mille West
Mr. Radcliffe hugged Cooper before he went out the door.
CHAPTER 30
Dark and Stormy
O n the morning of Elise Heath’s funeral, rain fell gently as Cooper’s closest friends and family rode with him to St. Thomas Church in Charleston. Elise was to be buried near Moncks Corner, but there would be no graveside service because of the still-hazardous condition of some of the roadways. Visitation was one hour prior to the service, and Cooper stood in line to greet the steady stream of mourners as they came through the church. He asked Mills to stand beside him, and she noticed that Carl Monroe gave Cooper evil looks from time to time.
An older gentleman took Cooper’s hand and told him he was sorry about Elise, but then said, “We heard that you’d been—well, never mind. I’m glad to see you here.”
Piet van der Wolf hugged Mills and shook Cooper’s hand. He quietly said to Cooper, “I know you’re a man of your own means, but I would be honored to help you if you need anything.”
Cooper thanked him for his graciousness. In line behind Piet were Madge and Cassie. They had both been in tears as their red-rimmed eyes showed. This did not stop Madge from verbally sparring with Cooper.
“I heard that you passed away—that you were fatally shot in a fight with Jeffrey over Elise. You’ve made a magnificent resurrection.”
Cooper did not respond to her, and her expression changed to one of sadness. “I am sorry, Cooper. I’m sorry for all of us.”
As Madge and Cassie walked away, Mills noticed Lieutenant Barnes and two other plain clothes policemen standing with him near the entrance to the church. An organ began to play, and Cooper and Mills took their seats.
The pastor who led the services had come from North Carolina, where he’d known Elise as a child. He spoke of her exceptional beauty and how everyone adored her. There was no mention of Jeff Radcliffe or Cooper for that matter; he chose to speak only of fond remembrances that he had of Elise. On top of her casket were several beautiful photographs, including a copy of the one that had sat behind Cooper’s desk.
Mills was still having a difficult time believing that Jeff could have done what he was accused of. Elise’s car had been located on the Camp property. It had been sunk into a deep pond, and the police had towed it from the murky waters. The thought of Cooper’s premonitions about Elise gave Mills chills whenever she thought about the accuracy of his dreams. The dark chasm where she was trapped was an abandoned well—her sepulcher—and the sound of moving water came from the nearby Ashley River.
After the funeral, Mills lost sight of Cooper in the crowd of mourners, but she saw him as he walked out of the church with his father-in-law. She followed them outside but could not see them because of the height of the grave markers. When she heard their voices, she moved quickly and located them just as Carl Monroe shoved Cooper. Mills ran to Cooper’s side to stop the altercation.
“Do you have women fighting for you now, you son of a bitch?”
He looked at Mills and said, “Young woman, how long did it take this bastard to charm his way into your bed?”
“Leave him alone!”
She looked at Cooper, who was calm despite the situation. “Carl, I have no intentions of fighting you.”
“It’s been a long time since I heard you play the piano. You’ve played your last composition. I’m going to break every bone in both your hands.”
“Carl, go back inside the church,” Cooper said, trying to reason with him.
“Like hell I will!”
He came toward Cooper, but Cooper held his ground and pushed Carl away. Mills started to scream for help, and she placed herself in front of Carl Monroe in an attempt to stop the attack. He shoved her aside.
“Carl, keep your hands off her!”
“Or what?”
Carl picked up a small marble urn off a marker and raised it to strike Cooper. He connected with a blow across Cooper’s forearm and Cooper backed away slightly. As Carl attempted to strike Cooper again, Cooper tripped over a rain-slicked stone and fell amongst the graves. Carl was on him immediately and pulled Cooper’s right hand across a marker. As he raised the urn to hit Cooper, a hand grabbed his arm and Carl Monroe was run head first into a large gravestone. Blood began to spill from his nose, and a police officer pinned him to the ground.
“Carl, you didn’t really think we would allow you to do something like this, did you? Cooper, I let you out of my sight for one minute and this happens,” said Lieutenant Barnes.
He gave Cooper his hand and pulled him up from the graves. “Do you need a doctor?”
“No, I think I’ll be all right. Thank you, Lieutenant.”
He looked thoughtfully at Cooper and said, “It’s nice to hear you say those words to me. Officer Walters, will you read Mr. Monroe his Miranda rights and take him to the patrol car?”
“I don’t want to press charges. There’s been enough pain already.”
Lana Monroe had been informed of what was happening, and she ran to her husband’s side. She came close to him and gestured toward Cooper with her hand. “It’s not his fault. It was Elise and Jeff. Why can’t you accept this, Carl?”
Mills looked toward the entrance gate to the cemetery and caught sight of Madge Sinclair, who was fixated on Cooper and crying. When Mills looked in her direction again, Madge was gone.
Lieutenant Barnes stepped close to Carl Monroe and said, “I was a Marine Corps officer just like you, but I don’t recall the men I served with preying on an adversary that wasn’t fit.”
Carl jerked his arm away from the policeman, and his wife grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the scene.
“Thank you again, Lieutenant,” Cooper said, as he walked away with Mills to the limousine.
Williston checked Cooper’s side and declared that he was fortunate that the police arrived when they did. Charles was troubled that he had not prevented the attack in the first place, but Cooper assured him that he was all right.
That evening, a number of Cooper’s friends and relatives came by Ian’s home to visit. After everyone left, Cooper began to play songs on his uncle’s piano. He performed beautiful compositions from memory. Then he began to play the song that he had written for Mills. After completing it the first time, he played it again, but before he finished the work, he lifted his hands from the keyboard. His hands trembled, and he stared at them before he slid from the piano seat to the floor in one fluid motion. Burying his head in his forearms, he cried until his body began to shake. Mills and Ian were immediately beside him and tried to lift him from the floor, but he remained there until his pent-up emotions were released.
Eventually, they were able to get him to his bed. Ian spoke to Mills in the hallway, “Don’t hesitate to come and get me if you need anything during the night.”
She got in the bed beside Cooper and held him tightly as he went to sleep. In the middle of the night, she was awakened by coldness inside the bedroom. Cooper was no longer beside her: he was standing undressed in front of an open window. He stared into the garden, his impressive physique illuminated in the dim lights of the outside street lamps.
Quietly, she rose from the bed and went to his side. “Cooper, come
to bed, the room is cold and you’re going to get chilled.”
Mills feared he was sleepwalking and she gently led him back to the bed. After he was settled under the covers, she closed the window and got in bed beside him. He quietly said to her, “Jeff is alive. I was on the Miss Elise alone. I looked into the water, and just below the surface was his face, laughing at me. His hand came out of the water to pull me in.”
“Shhh. I’ve got you. Try to go back to sleep.” I fear he’s on the verge of an emotional breakdown.
When morning came, Mills went to Ian and told him of the events of the night. Ian looked thoughtfully at Mills before saying, “I think you and Cooper could use a change in scenery. My wife owns a home in Bermuda, and I’m going to find a doctor for Cooper to talk with while you’re there. I know you’ll look after him, and apparently he still needs care, more than I realized.”
Before the airliner landed in Bermuda, Mills could see the clear blue-green waters that surrounded the island, and she thought of Jeff. When they went through immigration, the officer who attended them was acquainted with the Heath family. He knew the story of the torpedoed American transport and the bravery of the men who had rescued some of the crew in waters off Bermuda during World War II.
“When I was a child, my father took me to the Maritime Museum in Sandy’s Parish. I was fascinated by the courage of your father and his crew, going into shark-infested waters to get those men out—your father was a true hero.”
Cooper thanked him for his kindness and then the officer asked Cooper if he was visiting for business or pleasure.
He responded, “Relaxation. I’m trying to calm my nerves.”
The officer thought he was joking and told him to have a wonderful vacation.
The morning after their arrival, a diminutive man with white, wispy hair came to their door at nine o’clock. He introduced himself as Dr. Bakker. “My old friend, Williston Devereux, has explained that you might want to talk about some issues that have been bothering you. I’d like to help,” he said with a smile.
Cooper spent the next two hours speaking with Dr. Bakker on a screened porch. When the doctor left, he made a request of Mills.
“I’ll be here tomorrow at nine o’clock, and if you don’t mind—I like to drink iced tea while I talk with patients. Thank you, Miss Taylor.”
He reminded her of Fritz with his white hair and the formality in his tone of voice.
When she joined Cooper on the porch, he took her hand. “Dr. Bakker says that I’m depressed and wants to help me. I suppose I didn’t need him to tell me that. He says that he would like to speak with you as well, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.”
He rose from his seat and led her inside. “I’m going to take you to lunch and then we’ll explore the island.”
For the next few weeks, mornings were spent with Dr. Bakker, and Mills always had his glass of iced tea ready when he arrived. Occasionally, he questioned Mills about Cooper and Jeff, and her thoughts about both of them. Cooper joked that his uncle must be paying Dr. Bakker handsomely because he was making house calls. “Williston makes house calls out of friendship,” he added.
Each afternoon, they spent time exploring the island; it was beautiful like St. John and perhaps the cleanest place she had ever visited. The most fascinating aspects of the island were water-filled caves with stalagmites and stalactites. The ocean water surrounding the island was almost sapphire-blue with a hint of light green and, at times, the clouds in the sky took on the same coloration as the ocean. The sea was the color of Jeff Radcliffe’s eyes.
Some afternoons, they went to the Princess Hotel in Hamilton for a Dark and Stormy, the cocktail that had been introduced to her at Ian’s party months before. The weather was like an Indian summer with warm days and cool nights. They spent some early evenings looking out over the Atlantic from the porch. Cooper had been quiet when they first arrived, but as the days went by, he talked to Mills for hours at a time. Their passionate lovemaking of the summer had been replaced by an intimacy of gentle caresses and kisses.
One afternoon, they took the ferry from Hamilton to Sandy’s Parish and toured the Maritime Museum. On a wall that featured exhibits from World War II was a series of photographs honoring the crew of the Heath Brothers’ ship that rescued the men off the stricken American transport. A photograph of Cooper’s father was included in the display, and the resemblance between father and son was remarkable.
“He would have been about twenty-five in that photograph,” Cooper said.
“You look just like him. No wonder your mother mistook you for him when she had Alzheimer’s.”
“How did you know that?”
“Marian told me.”
Cooper smiled and put his arm around her. “Let’s take the ferry back to Hamilton. I want to show you something and then we’ll go to the Princess for a Dark and Stormy.”
When they disembarked the ferry, Cooper led her across Front Street to a goldsmith that had exotic, beautiful jewelry displayed in the windows. A cruise ship was in town, and the area bustled with tourists. Cooper opened the door to the jewelry store and led Mills to a glass case with unique wedding bands. They were engraved with what appeared to be ancient Greek designs and were a brilliant shade of gold, at least eighteen carat.
Cooper asked the jeweler to show them the rings, and he asked Mills, “Which one do you like the best?”
She tried on several and then picked one as her favorite. She showed it to him and said, “I think this ring is beautiful.”
As she handed the ring back to the jeweler, Cooper said, “That’s all I wanted to know. Tomorrow, I have a place I’d like to show you, so be ready to go after Dr. Bakker and I finish talking.”
The next afternoon, Cooper took Mills to lunch in St. George’s Parish. They drove past the airport to get to this area of the island, and Cooper pointed out abandoned railway trestles that had formerly supported a working train system that had traversed the island. Only the trestles remained; the rails had been sold, long ago, to another country.
“We’re going to St. George. This area was one of the first portions to be settled by Europeans after a shipwreck in the early 1600s. The ship was on its way to Jamestown, Virginia, but it met its fate on the reefs.”
“How can you remember things like that?”
“I came here with my parents a number of times, and I raced in regattas with Jeff.”
He bought Mills a lunch of conch fritters and then led her through the village. In front of the plaza at King’s Square were sets of stocks, and Mills put her head and arms through the wooden devices. “I think this form of punishment could have been quite miserable . . . especially during the summer months,” she said.
As they walked through the town, Cooper led her to a whitewashed church that stood on Duke of York Street. “This is St. Peter’s Church. I remember touring it when I was a boy. Let’s go inside.”
Mills marveled at the roughhewn cedar beams in the church, and Cooper said, “It’s amazing, but this church was built in the early 1600s and some of the original pews are still used today.”
He led her to the altar, and then got down on his knees in front of her and took
her hand in his. “Mills, I can’t begin to tell you how much you mean to me. When I was lonely, you gave me hope, and when I was hurt, I don’t know what I would have done without you. I love you, and I want you to be my wife.”
He took a ring box out of his jacket pocket and opened the case, which held two magnificent wedding bands that Cooper had showed her in the jewelry store on Front Street. He slipped her favorite ring on her left ring finger. She took the other ring from the box and then joined him on her knees, placing the ring on his finger.
“The answer is yes—I want to be your wife.”
They repeated marriage vows to one another. A clergyman entered the sanctuary and smiled at them with approval, but then continued his business, leaving them alone. Cooper kissed her, and they held each other tightly, until he whispered, “I have another place I’d like to show you.”
Driving to a secluded beach on the south shore, Cooper brought out a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He opened the bottle, and they sat down together, looking at the pink sand and the waves that kissed the beach.
“How did you get the rings and the champagne without my knowing?”
“Dr. Bakker was kind enough to pick them up for me. He says that he’s a romantic at heart and was glad to help.”
As they sat quietly together, Mills asked, “Are you feeling better?”
“I needed to rest, more than I realized. I have been told that deep emotional wounds can take a long time to heal.”
When they returned to the house, Cooper led Mills into the bedroom and passionately took her in his arms. After weeks of gentle caresses, this was a return to the deeply romantic way he had loved her during the summer. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, feeling secure in the love they shared for one another.
The next morning, Dr. Bakker thanked Mills for her hospitality during the weeks that he visited with Cooper. “I have enjoyed meeting you and Mr. Heath. If I can be of help in the future, don’t hesitate to phone me. Mr. Heath has told me he is ready to return to Charleston. Thanksgiving is now several days away, and he says he would like to go home.”
