Laura held the tiny lifeless infants to her breast and cried.
Chapter 29
The gray light of dawn brought Dr. Burke. The infants had already been cleaned and wrapped and tucked in a wooden box, and Sallie’s lifeless body had been washed and prepared for the coffin that would be made later that day. When Burke arrived muttering harried excuses at having been called to another birthing earlier in the evening, Laura greeted him at the bedroom door and led him away.
“I don’t think there’s anything you could have done, Doctor. It was too soon.” Tired as she was, Laura had a hard time refraining from adding, “Sallie did it to herself.” It did no good to place blame. Nothing would bring back her cousin or those two tiny infants who would never have a chance in this world.
Exhausted, Burke caught her arm, and kept her from escorting him down the stairs. With concern, he noted the strained lines about her mouth and the emptiness of her gaze. “Where is Mr. Wickliffe? He ought to be here. You’ve got to get some rest before you collapse. You have Mark to think of.”
As if his name called to him, Mark emitted a wail of neglect that echoed down the hallway. Laura smiled wryly. “He won’t let me forget. You need some rest yourself, Doctor. Shall I tell Jemima to fix you something to eat before you go?”
A vile curse broke the dawn silence outside, and the front door flew open with a crash. Oblivious of all the gazes swerving in his direction, Cash headed for the stairs where Laura’s slight figure could be discerned against the darkness. “Why is Burke’s carriage here?” he demanded.
“Let me.” Patting Laura’s hand, Burke turned her back toward the bedrooms.
Shamefully Laura allowed him to maneuver her that way. She didn’t want to be the one to break the news. She couldn’t bear to see the light in Cash’s eyes go out forever, as she knew it would. This was no longer her affair. Her grief was private and separate, and it was time she acted upon it.
Cash’s roar of grief and anguish filled the house not moments later. Had he been sober, he might have dealt with the news more sensibly, but drunk, he let all his emotions show, and the echoes of his pain rang through silent halls. Tears rolled down Laura’s cheeks, but it wasn’t her place to comfort Cash.
Laura fell exhausted into bed after feeding Mark. Every word that Sallie said haunted her dreams. She shuddered at nightmare images of Cash as a stallion mounting mares. She didn’t see herself, but felt the piercing pleasure of possession make her womb ache, and she tossed restlessly.
Gradually, as she regained consciousness some hours later, clearer thoughts replaced the cloudy veil of sleep. Sallie was the only family she had. As far apart as they had been, she still mourned her loss, for with Sallie went all the memories of her past: of the summers on Stone Creek with Uncle Matt and Aunt Ann and the barbecues with Sallie laughing and flirting with all the neighborhood gallants, the parties, the holidays, the happy moments that they had shared. All of the past was gone now, snuffed out without a protest, and she was left rootless, with nowhere to turn.
And the guilt, the overriding guilt as Laura thought of Cash and how she could almost be glad Sallie was gone. The guilt was worst. How many times had she secretly hated Sallie for taking Cash away when she needed him most? How many times had she thought she would be better for him, wished Sallie would leave so she could have his attention? The thoughts were far more sinful than the action she had once taken in chasing after Marshall. And now she was paying for them.
And Sallie could possibly be right. If Laura played her cards right, she might attract Cash’s attention and hold it long enough for him to turn to her, even to marry her. In his grief he would seek any source of comfort, and there was this physical attraction already there between them. Sallie knew about men; she must have seen it too. The possibility was there, and Laura hungered after it as she had once hungered after a home of her own.
But it would be wrong. Laura didn’t even need to think about it to know that it was wrong. She felt it deep down inside of her. Perhaps people made marriages out of physical attractions, but she had already seen the ruins of Cash and Sallie’s marriage and knew what could happen. And inside herself she knew she didn’t have even a quarter of the attraction that Sallie had possessed. If Sallie couldn’t make it work, no one could, particularly not Laura.
She didn’t know where that left her, except alone. There was always Mark. She comforted herself with the thought of his sturdy little body pressed to her breast. She would have years of watching him grow, of his laughter and his pains. She didn’t need any more than that. She had almost missed that opportunity. She was twenty- two years old and not likely to ever marry. To have Mark was like a miracle, one not to be ignored.
Below, the voices of neighbors began to gather. She strained to hear Cash, but his voice was ominous silent.
She wondered if she could sit this one out, if she could just hide in her room and let everyone think her so overwhelmed with grief as to be bedridden. It would be so much easier than facing all those people after all that Sallie had revealed to her. Laura felt as if her sins were written across her face.
But she was a Kincaid, and more was expected of her. She wouldn’t allow dead Kincaids to overshadow her now as they had when alive. She would do what was expected and more. Afterward she would wonder what to do next.
Jettie and Lucretia already had Sallie laid out in one of her prettiest New York gowns, the two infants cuddled in her arms as if they belonged there. Her golden hair framed her face in smooth curls as it had for so many years, not as it had looked last night when drenched in sweat and tears.
Laura could scarcely bear to look, but for the sake of appearances she approached the parlor table to offer her farewell. The room grew silent as she touched a hand to the face of the little girl who had never breathed life, and someone hurried to catch her when her knees buckled.
But that was the last time Laura gave in to grief. There hadn’t been time to dye a gown black, so she had to meet her guests in the old gray silk she had once trimmed with black for Ward. The neighbors didn’t care what she wore. They simply wanted to hear the details of Sallie’s death as they had gossiped about her actions when she lived.
When it became apparent that Laura had no intention of castigating Cash for not being there when his wife died, they lost interest in her and sought each other for the speculation about Cash’s whereabouts. Laura merely thanked them for coming, gave endless gratitude to those who filled the kitchen with their offerings of food, ordered refreshments served to those who lingered, and consulted with the preacher and his wife about the time of the services. She would be all that was proper and nothing more.
Cash’s absence worried at the back of her mind but she’d spent a lifetime practicing propriety, and would uphold Stone Farm’s reputation for gracious, even in grief. Steve Breckinridge and some of his cousins arrived, assuring Laura that Eliza and Mrs. Breckinridge had been summoned from the Springs and would be here in time for the services. There were words concerning Sallie’s burial next to Ward, and Laura agreed without a second thought. Sallie and Ward belonged together. Both had been thoughtless creatures of an earlier time. It seemed only right that they should lie together through eternity.
Laura wondered if she ought to search Sallie’s trunk for some sign of the man that Sallie meant to run off to. He really ought to be notified if she meant anything to him at all. But she didn’t have the heart to search Sallie’s things just yet. Maybe another day.
As the number of neighbors arriving and leaving slowed to a trickle, Laura threw an anxious glance about the rooms in search of Jettie or her mother. Finding the maid, she worked around the back of the room, past the lingering knots of people. Catching Jettie’s arm, she led her back into the hall, and finding still more people there, they slipped into Cash’s study.
“Where’s Cash?” Laura demanded as soon as they were alone.
Jettie rolled her eyes expressively. “Where you think he is? Done passed out in
the barn with one of his horses. Jake got the animal out so he don’ step on him, but it might do a damn sight more good if it walked over that man’s face.”
At that moment Laura could only agree. But Cash had to be made to see to his responsibilities. She wasn’t going to do it alone. Callously she ordered, “Go throw a bucket of water over him and have Jake get him dressed in something suitable. I don’t care if he sits in the corner unconscious, he’s going to sit with Sallie tonight.”
Jettie grinned and nodded and raced off to do what she had been waiting to be told to do. Laura walked out of the study and straight into an open set of arms.
She gasped and looked up to Jonathan’s concerned gray eyes. At that moment Laura almost lost it all, all the pride and determination and stubbornness that had been holding her going all day. She fell into his arms and choked on her sobs as he patted her back.
“Hush, now. It’s going to be all right. You’ve been doing just fine, Laura. Don’t let go now. Why don’t you find some of that excellent coffee I remember Jemima used to make. I heard she’s back here now.”
It was just what she needed. Sniffling, Laura accepted his handkerchief with almost a laugh of remembrance of other handkerchiefs he had held for her. She needed to be told what to do right now. Her mind wasn’t functioning clearly.
“When did you get in? Nobody told me. Come back to the kitchen with me. We can’t talk with all these people around.” Laura hurried down the hall, forcing Jonathan to fall in step with her.
“I got in last evening. I sent a telegram from Lexington to Burke, but he must have been out when it arrived. Don’t curse me too roundly, Laura, but I ran into Cash while I was looking for a place to stay. He was with me last night when everyone was looking for him.”
Laura didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at this discovery, and she threw Jonathan a sharp look. The only place they could have met was at the hotel, and she knew perfectly well the kind of women that stayed in that hotel. He didn’t manage to look the least bit sheepish when he caught her look. In fact, Jonathan was looking quite handsome with his newly acquired tan and his brown hair lightened with a streak of Arizona sun. She smiled faintly at his answering smile.
“Won’t you go in the parlor and tell everyone that for me? That’s all anybody wants to hear. Where was Cash when his wife was dying? If they thought she was crying for him, they’ve got Sallie all wrong.”
“I can imagine.” Jonathan stopped in the kitchen doorway while Laura embraced the old black woman at the stove. She spoke with all of the crying kitchen maids, saying a reassuring word, employing a smile, giving them the strength that she scarcely possessed.
Jonathan had spent this last year thinking about the woman he had left behind. He remembered her as frail and helpless, a wounded doe he had wished to take in and make better.
But there had been episodes even then that had made him realize that she wasn’t the hurt creature he needed to protect. Perhaps, in some way, she did need someone to look after her, but not in the way he had his first wife. The evidence of that was right here before his eyes. Laura could never quiescently accept his love and help, she would have to return it threefold.
And there was the cross between them. Jonathan didn’t want to dwell on that right now. He wasn’t certain if he had returned just in time or too late. Only time would tell. He accepted the black coffee that Laura handed him, and allowed himself to be lulled into complacency by the welcome in her eyes.
“This is better than I remembered.” He sipped at the scalding brew despite the heat of the August day outside and the baking ovens within. After Arizona, he could handle heat. It was the humidity making his shirt stick to his back that made him grimace. “Maybe we’d better go back in the other rooms. You’re likely to melt if you stay in here for long.”
Laura hadn’t noticed. Sending a nervous glance over her shoulder to the back door, where she hoped Cash would be making an entrance soon, she unwillingly accepted the offer of Jonathan’s arm. Cash wouldn’t be in any shape for anyone to see him right now, not even his best friend.
Sensing every nuance of Laura’s behavior, Jonathan halted and glanced back toward the kitchen door. “Cash isn’t taking this too well, is he? Shall I go find him?”
“He’s not likely to appreciate your interference. I have one of the servants looking after him. Perhaps it’s better this way.”
Jonathan looked up at the people gathering in the foyer to say their farewells, and he shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone. I’ll go get him. Now isn’t the time for me to monopolize you, in any case. We’ll talk another time.”
Laura nearly cried out a protest at his departure. Everything seemed so much easier when she had someone at her side, sharing the burden. If only she could let the burden go, pass it around so that everyone in the room held a piece of the weight, but she couldn’t. She had never learned to share. Holding her chin up, she approached the crowd of guests prepared to make their parting condolences.
Cash finally came downstairs an hour later when the worst of the crowd had departed for their homes and suppers. His eyes were bloodshot and his thick black hair still looked damp from scrubbing, but he appeared sober and respectable, much to the disappointment of his audience. He said no word to Laura and avoided the bodies laid out in the center of the room, but took his place near the parlor door to accept the arrival and departure of Sallie’s mourners.
Someone handed him a cup of coffee, and he accepted it with a nod, but for the most part people were content just to observe and not to approach him. He stood aloof just far enough that the guests could escape without speaking to him if they desired. And the few remaining mourners so desired. They departed hastily, offering him slight nods and hurrying off to gloat over the fact that they had finally seen the absent husband.
A few of the Breckinridge cousins remained in place of Eliza and Steve’s mother, who had not yet returned. Laura ordered trays brought in with a cold collation from the kitchen. Telegrams had been arriving all day. She wasn’t certain who had been thoughtful enough to notify all the cousins and distant aunts and uncles throughout the Bluegrass, but they apparently all meant to make an appearance on the morrow.
She had never thought of the rest of the Kincaids and Aunt Ann’s family as being of any relation to her, but she supposed in some way they were. There would be people arriving she might have seen only twice in her lifetime. She wasn’t certain she could live through another day of this.
Without realizing he’d moved, Laura found Cash at her elbow, pushing her toward the door. She looked up at him in amazement, but his expression was black and unreadable.
“Get out, Laura. You’ve had enough. I’ll frighten everyone else off for the rest of the night. It’s a pity I can’t do the same in the morning.”
It was amazing how their thoughts had taken the same direction. Laura managed a weak smile. “I don’t suppose if I load a shotgun, that will help?”
“Don’t. Just don’t, Laura. Go to bed.”
Cash shoved her out the door to the interest of the two Breckinridge cousins, and Laura fled before this audience. She didn’t know what was the matter with him, other than he’d reached some breaking point which she threatened to push him over. Now wasn’t the time to rear back and argue.
Maybe, in the morning, they could talk.
Chapter 30
The morning brought chaos and torment and Laura had all she could do to walk numbly through the hours, greeting people she didn’t recognize, arranging accommodations for those who would stay, seeing that everyone was fed, while waiting for the hour when Sallie would be carried to the cemetery and laid to rest for eternity.
At various and sundry times someone would come up and insist that she sit and rest and eat, and ever obedient, Laura would comply, but it never lasted long. She didn’t have the tongue to gossip, and her protector would eventually wander away, and soon she would be submitted to the onslaught of demands all over again.
It didn’t matter. She was much better off keeping busy, not thinking, just doing what was asked of her. Cash didn’t circulate among the guests, but she was aware that he was there, clearing the room so Sallie could be laid in her coffin, talking to someone about the gravestones he wanted made, keeping his distance from the aristocratic relatives swarming through the damaged mansion. There wasn’t a chance for them to exchange a word or two, and Laura couldn’t help but feel it was better that way.
She didn’t want whatever Sallie had seen between them to be noticed by any other. Cash’s reputation was notorious and her own didn’t bear close scrutiny. The gossips would have a field day if they began speculating about the relationship between the new widower and his wife’s cousin. She would do everything in her power to keep him from being hurt by filthy tongues.
When Steve Breckinridge dragged his wife and mother to Cash’s side to offer condolences, Laura nodded in satisfaction. Now was the time for people to recognize that Cash was not a fiend, but a bereaved husband and father. He would need their support in the weeks to come. She said as much to two distant cousins as she directed them toward Cash. It would take time, but they would have to recognize him for what he was.
The people from town arrived in time for the funeral, and led by Jonathan, they gathered around Cash in a show of support as they made their way to the cemetery. He didn’t seem aware of their presence, but stood alone in the midst of the crowd as Sallie and his children were laid in their grave. Being the next nearest relative, Laura stood nearby, but she had an aunt on one side and a cousin on the other, and they kept her sheltered. Suddenly she had become a Kincaid to be recognized.
Returning from the grave site, there was much speculation as to what would become of the farm now, but Laura had never had any doubts about that. Under the law, the farm became Cash’s when he married Sallie, and by rights, after all the money and hard work he had put into it, it could belong to no one else. She was the one who would have to leave.
Shelter from the Storm Page 29
