* * *
That night, Julie fought against sleep, wanting to think, to plan. This could not continue. It was only a matter of time before Myles was discovered. The situation grew more desperate with each passing day.
Could she go on and leave before her mother died? she wondered in sudden desperation. Did she dare? Which would be worse—to disappear or remain till something more terrible happened? Dear God, she did not know the answer.
Suddenly Sara was shaking her gently, and she realized that sleep had won and wrapped her gently in its shadowy cloak. "You got to wake up, Miss Julie," Sara was whispering frantically. "You got to get up."
A glance at the windows told her the veil of pink beyond would soon give way to morning. She sat up quickly. "How is Mother?" she asked, needles of apprehension stabbing.
"She ain't had a good night. I sent Lionel for the doctor, and he's in with her now. I peeked in on my way up here and saw him using that little silver thing with the rubber strings coming out of it."
"His stethoscope. He uses that to check the strength and regularity of Mother's heartbeat. He does that every time he comes, so why should that alarm you?" Julie was hurrying to dress.
"He was listenin' and shakin' his head. Mastah Oates was in there, too, and he saw me lookin' and grinned, like he's a-hopin' it means she's worse." Her eyes grew bigger. "But it ain't yo' mama I'm worried about. It's Mastah Myles. He sent Lionel to the house to get word to you that he wants to see his mama and be on his way. He seen some lawmen nosin' around in the woods, and he's scared they got wind he's back. He says it's too risky, and he's gonna leave tonight at midnight."
Julie knew he was right. Their mother was going to die soon. She could not save her life, and if she stayed to try and make things easier for her, sooner or later, someone was going to get hurt, perhaps killed.
She was washed over with waves of desolation wishing there were some way she could convey all her feelings to her mother without causing her untold anguish. How she hated to disappear, knowing she would never see her mother again, and have her mother think she had just deserted her. But perhaps God, in His infinite wisdom, would let her mother know how desperate Julie had been, and that she did truly love her.
She told Sara to go to Lionel and have him tell Myles that it was going to be impossible for him to see his mother before he left. "Explain how she's too weak, and there isn't enough time to prepare her. Have Lionel tell him to wait for the three of us in the cemetery. We're all leaving together at midnight."
"Praise God!" Sara lifted her eyes upward, then said in a rush, "I knows you hate to leave yo' mama, but it's the only thing you can do."
"I know that, Sara," Julie whispered painfully. "Now go. I'll sit with Mother one last time, and you pack as much food and supplies as you can. Make sure Virgil doesn't get suspicious. When we go, we're going to have to move fast, because he'll no doubt have the law on our trail."
"He's been nosin' around. He's been checkin' on the silver and other stuff. I 'magine he's been snoopin' in yo' mama's jewelry chest, too. And Lionel says he saw him pokin' around in the yard, like he was maybe lookin' for somethin'."
"It's just too dangerous to stay. Now hurry."
Sara turned to go, but then Julie called to her once more and said she should inform the servants, whom they could trust, of their plans. "I want Mother cared for after I'm gone, and I can't depend on Virgil to do it. Surely there are others we can rely on."
"Yes'm. Don't you fret." And she hurried out.
Julie got to her mother's room just in time to see Dr. Perkins coming out. Seeing her, he frowned and closed the door behind him. "She hasn't got long, Julie," he said in a voice filled with sorrow. "I barely heard her heartbeat. And there are other signs, as well. The color of her skin, the way her breathing becomes more labored. And her feet and hands are turning unusually cold as the circulation of her blood slows. She's failing fast. I doubt she'll last the day."
"I—I'll go and sit with her," Julie murmured tremulously, shaken by his gloomy prediction. "I suppose there's nothing more we can do."
He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'd stay with you, but I have a patient about to deliver who has had a great deal of difficulty in the past and lost several babies. I feel it's my place to help bring a new life into the world, rather than see one leave it, when I can do nothing to prevent it."
"Of course. You go along. I'll send word to you when..." her voice trailed off. She could not put the death of her mother into words, and she felt guilty to think she would not be there when it did happen. Dr. Perkins, like so many people, would wonder why she had disappeared so suddenly in the last hours of her mother's life, but she could not be concerned with their speculations and opinions. There was too much to be faced in the coming hours.
Moving into the room, she went to the side of the bed and stared down at her mother's still form. Her chest barely moved as she struggled to breathe. Julie touched her hand and found it frighteningly cold. Hurrying to the cedar chest in the corner, she took out another quilt and tucked it about her.
The hours moved by with agonizing slowness. Sara slipped in to tell her things were moving along as planned. She brought Julie a cup of broth, which she did not want but drank anyway, knowing she would need every bit of her strength for the journey that lay ahead. She had no idea where they were going. Myles had said something about heading west till the war was over, returning one day to claim Rose Hill. But they both knew that would not happen. No, they would not come back. Life as they had known it was gone forevermore.
Around eight o'clock, Virgil swaggered into the room, took one look at his wife, and chuckled out loud. "Well, it won't be long. I've seen death hovering before. According to Dr. Perkins's good news, she may not last till morning. What a relief!"
Julie gripped the arms of the chair in which she was sitting, her heart pounding with loathing and rage. "Get out of here, you despicable creature." She shook as she spoke. "Have you no respect in that evil heart of yours? Can't you let her die in peace?"
"Oh, quite, my love. In fact, I'm going to give you both peace to share your final hours together. I'm going into town for a game of cards. And when I return in the morning, I hope to find a wreath on the door, the hands of the clocks still, the mirrors covered with sheets... the usual procedure when death visits."
He walked to where she sat and leaned forward to kiss her cheek, but she pushed him away. Laughing, he murmured, "Now is that any way for a prospective bride to react to her future husband?"
Whipping her head about, she stared at him in shock. "What did you say?" she gasped.
"Don't act so surprised. You will marry me and become mistress of Rose Hill."
"And you're out of your damned mind." She spoke as loudly as she dared. "I'd sooner die, and heed me well – if you ever do touch me again, I will kill you, somehow, some way. This I promise you!"
The smile on his lips quickly disappeared, and his eyes, which had been gleaming with enjoyment over his taunts, turned cold. "Well, then, suppose we rouse your mother and tell her of our plans?"
Turning about, he leaned over, clutched her mother's shoulders and began shaking her roughly. Julie watched in horror, stricken, as the frail body bounced up and down on the mattress beneath Virgil's strong hands. But her mother's eyes remained closed, and her head lolled to one side. Her mouth suddenly gaped open... as though silently screaming.
"Oh, you devil, leave her alone—" Julie leaped up and shoved him to one side, placing herself as a shield in front of her mother's bed. "Get out of here, Virgil, or I'll send someone for Sheriff Franklin. I won't have you torturing her in her final hours. You are evil! A spawn of Satan himself!"
"Am I now? Well, you know you'll be punished for such talk. A wife must respect her husband. I'll remember you're due a lesson in obedience."
She placed both hands against his chest and gave him a shove so sudden that he almost tripped and fell as he struggled to steady himself. Reaching for the first t
hing she could get her hands on—the china water pitcher by the bed—she held it threateningly above her head. "Get out of here, Virgil! I'm warning you! Get out of this room and out of this house."
He brushed at an imaginary fleck on his waistcoat. 'Very well, Julie. I suppose it's only proper that you sit with the dying instead of satiating the hunger I know you feel for me. It will keep. But remember, you'll be punished—and severely."
She shook the pitcher at him. "Out! Take your filthy, depraved mind and body out of this room at once."
He backed toward the door, smiling. "Very well. I'm leaving. But remember. Rose Hill is mine now, and you would be wise to come to terms with yourself regarding your insolence. I can throw you out of here any time I choose—"
How Julie longed to tell him this was the last time she would be subjected to his nauseating company. Instead she turned her back on him, focusing all her attention upon her mother. It was not long before she heard the sound of the door opening and closing and knew he was gone. A wave of relief washed over her.
Her mother continued to sleep deeply, her breathing becoming even more labored. Sara came in, and together they raised her head by putting more pillows behind it. This helped some; her chest looked a wee bit stronger as she struggled to breathe. But she did not open her eyes. If anything, her slumber seemed even deeper with each passing moment.
Sara told Julie that Lionel and Myles had everything ready. They were taking a wagon and two mules. All provisions were loaded, and she had packed a small trunk for Julie.
"I even got some more silver out to 'em, and they're buryin' that now," she said proudly. "I'm gonna get a few more pieces of yo' mama's jewels. We're gonna be in the cemetery waitin' on you, honey. And whenever you get there, we'll go.
"Praise the Lord that mean man went to town," she added.
Julie murmured, "Yes, yes. I'll be along, Sara. It's just that I hate to leave her. I wish—" she swallowed, choked on a sob, reached out to touch her mother's still face lovingly, "—I wish she would go on and die before I leave. The thought of leaving her here with Virgil is more than I can bear. She won't understand why I left her."
"She ain't gonna know you did." Sara shook her head with sad finality. "Miz Julie, I seen lots of folks die, and I know the signs. She gonna lay just like that till the angels come to carry her home. Ain't nothin' fo' you to do but leave. And if she knew the truth, she'd tell you to go on. I know she would."
Julie was silent for a long time before she whispered, "Yes, I know you're right, Sara. But please. Let me stay just a little while longer."
With a sigh, Sara walked out of the room.
The clock on the mantel ticked away their remaining moments together. There was so much Julie wished she could say, but when she really thought about the words, she wondered what they would be. How do you tell someone goodbye forever? How do you give your own mother up to death?
The clock struck twelve, its sound echoing through the still room. Julie had been sitting in a chair pushed up very close to the bed. When she leaned over, she could barely see the rise and fall of her mother's chest. A tear trailed down her cheek as she pressed her lips against the cold, clammy skin.
She rose to stand on legs that trembled as a pine seedling quakes in the fierce winds of spring. Tucking the quilt about her mother's chin, she whirled and hurried from the room, not looking back. It was done. There was nothing left. She must go forward, plunging into the future as Derek had plunged into those shark-infested waters. Whatever tomorrow held, she would face it. All she asked was the same thing that Derek had probably requested in that split second between life and possible death: a chance—just a chance—to face the unknown... and perhaps conquer it.
Lanterns burned dimly in the hallway, but Julie kept her eyes straight ahead, not wanting to take one last look at the house where she had been born and raised.
The late December wind was bone-chilling as she stepped out the back door. Christmas had come and gone with little fanfare. A few neighbors had stopped by with cakes and pies, to pay their respects to her mother, who did not remember any of them coming. Perhaps next year, Julie thought feverishly as she hurried through the night, things would be different. They would rejoice on the holy day, and there would be singing and laughter, with no thoughts of the miseries of days past.
She moved past the barns and farrowing houses, down the dark path that led to the cemetery. It was a moonless night, and she had to feel her way along, trusting her memory. She had trod this way countless times, but now and then she would step off into brambles and brush and her dress would catch on something, wasting precious time as she paused to free herself.
Then she heard it—the sound of a whippoorwill. Myles! It was the signal they had used as children, when he was hiding to keep from being punished for something he'd done. She would answer with the same trill to let him know it was safe to come out. So she answered him now, then saw his shadowy figure step out from behind a tree.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, whispering, "It's okay, Julie. We're on our way. Everything is ready."
"Myles—" she said painfully, her heart twisting for him.
He had moved ahead, still holding her hand as he led the way, but he paused to say in anguish, "Don't say anything, please. I know you feel sorry for me because I didn't get to see Mother, but that's the way it has to be. It's too dangerous for me to hang around any longer. It could lead to bad trouble."
They reached the cemetery, the crooked tombstones standing white against the darkness like curious sentries of the dead. "The wagon is over there." He spoke so low she had to strain to hear. "I've had a time keeping Sara and Lionel from leaving without us. You know they don't like to be around cemeteries, especially at night. They're very superstitious—" He stopped and looked about wildly, straining to see in the blackness of the night.
Julie was frightened. "Myles, what's wrong?" she cried.
"I don't understand. I left them here, by this wrought-iron fence that surrounds Grandfather Marshal's grave. I told them not to move. We were going to walk the mules down the cemetery path and then get in the wagon and leave as fast as the mules could go. I was teasing about them leaving without us, but now I'm starting to worry."
They stumbled about in the darkness, with Myles calling first to Lionel, then to Sara. "Dammit," he swore, "I've been back there behind that tree for over an hour waiting for you. I never heard a thing, but it was a good ways off. Where the hell are they?" He stamped around in little circles, waving his arms in despair and fury.
Julie swallowed hard. The knot of fear was getting tighter in her throat. She began to tremble. Surely they wouldn't have gone off and left them. Sara and Lionel were too loyal. Something had happened... something terrible. She could feel it.
Reaching out to touch Myles's arm, she said hesitantly, "Maybe you should go back into hiding. I'll go stay with Mother. I've been thinking perhaps I shouldn't go off and leave her this way. It won't be long before she dies, and I can meet you somewhere later."
"No!" he responded in a fierce tone. "I don't want you in that house with Virgil Oates another night. Something's going on that I don't know about. I can feel it, and I don't like it."
His tone softened as he said, "Julie, I know it seems cruel, running off and leaving Mother to die alone, but Sara said she'd never know you were gone, that she probably wouldn't last the night."
Julie sucked in her breath, swallowed the knot of pain, and murmured, "All right, but we can't just keep standing here. Please go somewhere and hide till I can find out what happened to Sara and Lionel. Maybe they did get scared, and they're hiding."
He didn't move, and she threw her arms around him to give him a reassuring hug. "Myles, this is the only way. Now don't worry about me. Virgil has gone to town and won't be back tonight. We can try tomorrow."
He sighed, disgusted and disappointed, knowing there was nothing else to be done. "All right. Can you make it back all right?"
She assure
d him she could. "I'll send word to you tomorrow. Sara will probably come creeping in sometime tonight, and then I'll find out what happened to frighten her away."
Myles bent forward to kiss her cheek, but just then they heard it... the sound of a twig breaking in the stillness.
Instantly Myles grabbed Julie and shoved her behind him, then faced the direction of the sound. "Don't move," he whispered, so low she could barely hear him over her thundering heart.
And then men were coming at them from all directions, stepping out of the woods. Lanterns were being ignited. The cemetery took on an eerie glow, and the faces of the approaching men leered out at them like the ghouls in the stories Lionel had frightened Julie with as a child.
Julie screamed and pressed her face into Myles's back. She wanted to run, but there was no way out of the tightening circle. She turned her head slightly and saw Sheriff Franklin, his fleshy belly bouncing with glee as he walked toward her brother, a handgun pointed straight at him.
She could feel Myles tremble, knew that it was with great effort that he made his voice steady as he said, "All right, Sheriff. You have me. Just don't harm my sister. I won't put up a fight...."
"Damned right you won't," someone yelled, and Julie heard the sound of wood splintering against flesh. She clung to Myles as his knees buckled, and they sprawled on the dirt upon their father's grave.
A beefy hand clamped down on Julie's arm and she was jerked to her feet, pulled away as she shrieked and fought to return to Myles's side.
"Now, you just calm down, little lady," Sheriff Franklin was saying. "I told you we'd get him sooner or later. It might have took me awhile, but he's a murderer, and he's got to face the law."
"You call this the law?" She kicked out at his shin, but he jumped back, still struggling to hold her. He twisted her arms painfully behind her back and forced her down to her knees.
And then she saw Virgil coming out of the shadows. "Oh, Julie, dear," he said solicitously, a concerned look pasted on his face. "I was hoping it wasn't true, that my suspicions would not be confirmed."
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