Sky-blue dress arranged about her, Ashlinn sat on the edge of a plush couch, looking as though she may burst from anticipation. Blue. She wore blue, not black. Relief rushed through Catriona, passing her lips in a long breath. A man clothed in a fine gray suit stood beside Ashlinn, one hand resting on her shoulder. Short brown hair framed a handsome face with dimples that suggested a grin often graced his face. The smile soothed her fears enough to loosen her tongue.
“So this is the man who won my sister-in-law’s heart,” Catriona said as she stepped into the room.
The smile that spread across Ashlinn’s lovely face as she laid eyes on Catriona eased a bit more of her anxiety, but only a bit. Golden hair floating about her like the cloak of an angel, Ashlinn flew to her feet and crossed the distance between them to embrace Catriona. She stiffened at first, but was quick to relax in Ashlinn’s gentle arms. The woman’s joy slowly began to dissolve Catriona’s trepidation. Ashlinn drew back, took Catriona by the hand, and led her over to the couches.
“I am so sorry it took us so long to come visit. I wanted to come to you right away, but we got caught up in Chicago while Sean was recruitin’ and then the riots made it impossible to travel to this side of the state from where we were. Still, ’tis a poor excuse for keepin’ me from my sister-in-law,” she said.
For a moment Catriona was struck speechless. Never had she heard Ashlinn allow her Irish brogue to slip through until now. She looked harder at her sister-in-law, surprised to see a woman filled with light and happiness, a woman very unlike the one who had followed her brothers into war.
“’Tis a fine reason, for which you have no cause to apologize,” Catriona finally managed.
Ashlinn stopped beside the man, whom Catriona presumed was Sean.
“Mrs. Catriona O’Brian, ’tis my pleasure to introduce you to my husband, Sean MacBranain. My only regret is that you were unable to attend our wedding. I would so have loved to have had you there,” Ashlinn said as she clutched Catriona’s right hand.
The sincerity in her clear blue eyes touched Catriona, but the hint of shame in them confused her. Surely such emotion wasn’t just from not being able to visit sooner.
Sean bent at the waist, bowing deeply to her. “’Tis a pleasure indeed to meet you, Mrs. O’Brian. I apologize that we were unable to bring you news of Michael’s death in person, or to return his body to you.”
She shook her head. “Please, there is no need to apologize for something outside of your control.”
Out of habit, Catriona cast her gaze to the floor and nodded her head, effectively hiding the lack of an emotional reaction to the mention of her husband’s death. She didn’t want to give Ashlinn and her nice husband the wrong idea about her feelings, or worse, the right idea. Not noticing, Ashlinn took one of Catriona’s hands in both of hers and pulled her down onto one of the couches beside her.
“We’ve much to discuss,” Ashlinn said in a guarded tone that made the hair on the back of Catriona’s neck stir.
It was what she had come to think of as the woman’s “physician tone,” the one she used when she removed herself emotionally from a situation. Catriona had witnessed her do so several times while working with patients in the family practice down the street. What could cause such detachment now, though, she had no idea. Behind her eyes, regret stirred.
“I could tell you that Michael died honorably, fighting to unify our country and end slavery. I should tell you that. But I won’t lie to you,” Ashlinn began.
Prickles of concern danced their way across Catriona’s skin. While Ashlinn had always protected and doted on Michael, she had seemed ignorant of his true nature. No ignorance shone in the depths of her eyes now. Catriona wanted to ask her not to go on, but she couldn’t find her voice.
“I am deeply sorry, Catriona, but Michael was a deserter who nearly got both myself and Sean killed with his foolishness. I do not tell you this to hurt you, or cause you shame, but because you deserve to know the truth,” Ashlinn said softly.
Heart sinking, Catriona’s mind began to race. This made her the disgraced widow of a deserter. If she left soon enough, before word spread, perhaps she wouldn’t be stoned to death on her way out of town. A shiver went through her as she recalled the stories of such things happening. She had no family to go back to, the pox had seen to that. And there was no way she would even attempt to impose upon her friends. Awful as this news was, it didn’t surprise her. Nothing horrible that came her way through her deceased husband surprised her anymore. A deep breath helped her straighten her back and swallow her emotions.
“I understand. I will gather my things and be gone by morning,” she said.
She fought back the instinct to beg for time to leave before Ashlinn spread the word. The words hung heavy on the back of her tongue, but she bit them back. If Mrs. MacNeil from the Widows organization found out, she’d lead the stone throwing herself. The thought of giving that woman any reason to hate her more turned Catriona’s stomach.
Ashlinn’s eyes flew open, moisture gleaming in them. Her grip on Catriona’s hand tightened. “No! You misunderstand. No one but you, Sean, and I will ever know about Michael’s disgrace. I do not seek to disinherit you, or have your position in society threatened in any way. You are my sister as surely as if we had been born of the same mother. I will never allow harm to come to you, especially because of something my foolish brother did,” Ashlinn swore.
Catriona’s mouth moved, but she was unable to give voice to any words. Leaning toward her, a fervent light filling her eyes, it was Ashlinn who filled the silence.
“I saw something in my brother that day, something dark and terrible. I pray that it was a side of him you never had to see, but I fear maybe you did.”
Tears scorched lines down Catriona’s face. Though she dropped her head, her hair was bound back with pins and clips, offering no way to hide her shame. Not so much as a single scarlet strand hung free. A strangled curse thick with emotion came from Ashlinn.
“Oh God, you did. I am so sorry, Catriona.” Ashlinn drew her into an embrace.
Silent sobs shook Catriona to her core. Tears streamed from her eyes to fall upon her sister-in-law’s fine silk shawl. They sat like that for some time, with Ashlinn patting her back and murmuring comforting words into her ear. When her tears finally dried up, Ashlinn drew back and offered her a handkerchief. As she saw to pulling herself back together, Ashlinn pulled a large envelope out of her bag.
“My brothers purchased a plot of land in California. Michael gave me the deed before he died. I want you to have it. You deserve it after all that you have been through.” She handed the envelope to Catriona.
Both excitement and trepidation shook her hands as she accepted the envelope. California, the land of sunshine and gold. More intriguingly, a place with at least a nine-month growing season. She had only ever heard stories of it, wondrous stories. It could be much worse. Ashlinn could be banishing her to Nebraska, or simply disinheriting her altogether.
Ashlinn touched her arm. “Do not misunderstand me, Catriona. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. You may stay here in New York, in this very house, for the rest of your life if you so wish. I merely want you to have this land, this choice, because it is rightfully yours.”
The tenderness in Ashlinn’s eyes revealed the truth of her words. She had always been kind enough to Catriona, but this was completely unexpected.
Catriona shook her head. “No. Rightfully this belongs to your family, as does this fine house. You are too kind to me.”
“You are part of this family, Catriona. Even if you decide to remarry in time, you will still be my sister. If you choose to go to California, this home, Michael’s inheritance, all are still yours and always will be.”
Had she any tears left, she would have wept again, but, thankfully, they were gone. A huge part of her, a part she had buried four years ago, wanted ou
t of this city in a desperate way. But she had ties here now, friends, and from the look of devotion on Ashlinn’s face, even family. Did she dare? Her fingers fumbled with the envelope until she finally managed to extract its contents. Smiling, Ashlinn helped her.
“To be honest with you, I was tempted myself when Michael gave me the deed. But somethin’ told me it was meant for you,” she said in a wistful tone.
As Catriona pored over the documents, she went on. “It is a total of four hundred and eighty acres, a lot, I know, but three plots really. My brothers wrote to a friend of theirs in California, paying him to put in for a plot under the Homestead Act while they were in the war. Unfortunately, that means it has already been two years, leaving you only three to make the required improvements on the land.”
She heard every word, but it was background noise to the words on the pages before her. Sonoma Valley California, near San Francisco. Almost five hundred acres was hers if she built dwellings on the three plots and improved the land by 1867. Hers, by her own hand and hard work. She hadn’t had anything like that in a long time.
“Three dwellings,” she murmured.
The very idea of such a cost made it hard to swallow. Ashlinn leaned forward, pointing to a line lower on the page. “’Tisn’t as bad as it sounds. They only have to be twelve by fourteen feet, a shack really. You could build a manor house on the prime plot and two small guest houses on the other two, and still have coin from Michael’s inheritance left for cattle or whatever you choose to do with the land,” she said.
Not an ounce of push tempered her tone. It was merely matter-of-fact, almost disinterested. “If you don’t want it, don’t worry, I can send along a cousin of ours to settle it. Take a few days to think it over. We can discuss it more over the week if you like.”
Grinning, Catriona set the papers aside. “You will be staying awhile?” She tried not to sound too eager, but feared she failed terribly.
The few times she and Ashlinn had been able to visit with one another before the war had always been filled with interesting conversation and fun. Michael had always been happier when she was around, as if his sister brought out the best in him. It had made her visits the highlight of Catriona’s married life. Now, with Michael gone, she longed to have her sister-in-law all to herself. Guilt stirred within her over feeling that way, but she pushed it down.
“Yes, we are staying in the hotel down on main street, and visiting whenever ’tis convenient for you,” Ashlinn said.
Catriona shook her head. “A hotel, no. You must stay here. There are dozens of empty rooms in this house, and you and Sean are more than welcome.”
Eager gaze going to Sean, Ashlinn inclined her head. He grinned and nodded.
“Only if you are sure we are not imposing. We did arrive unannounced, after all,” Ashlinn said.
They clasped hands and grinned at one another like schoolgirls. “O’ course not, you’re family!” Catriona insisted.
After a bit of giggling and more hugging, Catriona called for her servants to ready the rooms and draw water for baths for both Ashlinn and Sean. She would see to it that her sister and new brother-in-law had every comfort she could provide. As they headed up to their rooms to retire for the evening, Catriona called for one of her servants. The head of the household help sent along a skinny young man who either hadn’t filled his clothes out yet, or had just gone up a size due to a growth spurt. A shock of hair almost as red as her own peeked out from beneath his cap. Catriona handed him a letter.
“Please deliver this to Mrs. Deirdre Quinn,” she told him.
Accepting the letter, he bowed deeply to her and hastened out the door, closing it carefully behind him. Catriona’s heart began to beat a steadily increasing rhythm. Her heart wanted two different things, and her head another entirely. Right now, she needed desperately to speak to her friends.
Meet the Author
Heather McCorkle is an award-winning author of paranormal, steampunk, and historical fiction. When she is not writing, editing, or designing book covers and websites, she can be found on the slopes, the hiking trails, or on horseback. As a native Oregonian, she enjoys the outdoors nearly as much as the worlds she creates on the pages. No need to travel to the Great Northwest though; connect to her instead on her blog and her many social networking sites. You can also find her the first Monday night of every month at 6:00 pm Pacific Time on the #WritersRoad chat on Twitter, which she co-created and moderates. Entertaining readers and uncovering stories and points of view that haven’t been covered are two of her greatest passions.
For more info please visit www.heathermccorkle.com.
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