When I opened my eyes again, he was still there, a look of concern in his eyes. Trixie the retriever, still sat with her chin on my knee. I put my hand on the dog’s head and felt her warm fur.
The dog was real. I wasn’t imagining this.
“So what’s your name, semi-transparent guy?” I asked, fairly certain I already knew.
“My name is Miles… but I am not Polly’s grandson,” he said, slowly moving forward to sit in the nearest chair.
He’s either afraid I bite, or that I’ll run away. He needn’t worry. Tryon’s the one that bites, and I couldn’t stand, much less run, if my life depended on it.
There was silence, and it was awkward, but I didn’t know what to say. I needed a moment to process this whole situation, which was by far the most bizarre thing that ever happened… ever! Way beyond finding a castle in an abandoned garden in the woods. Or finding the castle’s owner or whatever, wandering at the side of the road and then being paid to explore. How impossible this was. It just was! My brain short circuited.
Miles sighed. He looked sad.
“I take it you’ve heard about my family… about me.”
I nodded. I started to glance away, when suddenly a sliver of my old not-stunned-out-of-my-wits-self returned.
“But I don’t believe what I’ve heard. I don’t believe you killed your brother,” I said firmly, my gaze steady.
The sadness in Miles’ eyes was replaced with surprise, relief, and curiosity.
“With the exception of family, everyone who ever heard the story accepted it without hesitation. But not you.”
There was a question in there somewhere.
“Yeah, well… I’m not family, but I’ve never been accused of being like everyone else, either. Why start now?” I replied.
A smile flickered across his face.
“I’m glad you don’t believe it, because the story isn’t true. I didn’t kill my brother, I wasn’t in love with his fiancé, and Delevan and I didn’t fight over her.” Miles breathed a sigh of relief. “I can’t tell you how amazing it feels to say that, and be heard.”
The shock that I was talking to THE Miles of the portrait and horrible story, was starting to wear off. It dawned on me that the solution to the family mystery was sitting right in front of me.
“Would you mind telling me what really happened to you and your brother?”
“I’d appreciate the chance to, if you’re offering to listen.”
“Yeah, I’m offering. I know you didn’t do it, but I’d really like to know who did. Was it Sarah Williams? Is that why she lied and blamed you?”
“No, she’s not one of those responsible for our deaths,” Miles answered. “She lied about me, but it wasn’t to save herself. It was to save my family.”
“Wow. You have got me so curious,” I said. “So what really happened?”
“I’m sure most of the story you heard is a lie, as no one besides those who were there that day, ever knew the truth. Unless the story has changed, it and the truth have the same beginning, however…”
After four long weeks spent in the west finishing certain business transactions for his father, weary and travel-worn, Miles was more than ready for this journey to come to an end. He missed his family and everything else about home while he was away, and as he drew closer to his destination, his heart quickened with anticipation.
Giving his horse more reign, the wooded path was covered in no time, and soon the Bannerman stable loomed into sight. Miles rode into the fenced area surrounding the barn, and swung from the saddle nimbly. He gave orders to the stable boy to return the horse to the livery in town, and retrieve his trunk from the station. Then he turned and hurried down the short path that led to his home, swinging his satchel lightly at his side.
Stepping through the front door, he collided with his little sister, Cynthia.
“Miles!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him.
“I am glad to see you too,” Miles smiled, managing to give her a hug as he set his satchel on the entryway table. “Where are Mother and Father?”
“They spent the afternoon visiting the Henderson’s,” Cynthia answered. “James went with them. He will be so very glad that you have returned. They should be home very soon.”
“Is Delevan here?” Miles asked.
“No, Delevan and Miss Williams went for a walk just a few minutes ago. But he left a note. He said not to read it, which I did not,” she said proudly. She took a folded paper out of the pocket of her pinafore, and held it out to Miles. “He said to give it to Mother and Father, but I think it is alright if I give it to you.”
She scrunched up her face for a moment, deciding whether or not that was really true. Her face cleared, and she handed him the note.
Miles unfolded the page. Inside was a paper with the name of an ocean liner, and voyage details. Puzzled, he set it aside and silently read the letter written by his brother.
Dear Father and Mother,
I have given thought to the concerns you expressed with regards to my association with Miss Williams. Please know that I have the utmost respect for you and your wisdom. I have made my decision however, and I will not be deterred from it.
To spare our family and Miss Williams further discussion on this subject, I have made the decision to elope with Sarah. We are on our way to be married and likely will have done so by the time you receive this letter.
We are traveling by stage and then steamboat to New York, where we shall sail to Europe for a brief trip. It is my hope that during this time, you will become fully reconciled to welcoming Sarah as my wife.
I shall write from the ship so that you know when to expect our return.
Your loving son,
Delevan
“How long since they departed?” Miles asked sharply, as he rose to his feet and snatched up his satchel. He rummaged inside, checking its contents.
“Wh-what is wrong?” stammered Cynthia, alarmed by the change in her brother’s voice and demeanor.
“How long, Cynthia?” he asked insistently.
“It’s been but ten or fifteen minutes,” she managed to answer.
“How did they travel? By foot or carriage?” he asked, snatching up Delevan’s note and pressing it into her hands.
“A walk, this is what Delevan said.”
“By the main road, or the path through the forest?” he asked, throwing open the front door.
“The path, but Miles, please! Whatever makes you look so?”
“I must catch up with them before it is too late. Give Father Delevan’s note the moment he returns.” Seeing the anxiety in her eyes, his tone softened. “I am sorry I’ve frightened you, Cynthia. I shall explain when I am able, but now I must go.”
With that, he was gone.
Miles raced along the familiar path, anxiety for his brother, and the cost to their family that Delevan’s haste would incur, fueling his footsteps.
He covered the ground quickly. As he passed between two overgrown pines, he found himself in a clearing. On the opposite side, just vanishing down the trail, were Delevan and Sarah.
“Delevan!” Miles shouted. “Delevan, stop!”
Delevan turned in surprise.
“Miles!” he exclaimed, a smile lighting his face. He turned, and led Sarah back across the clearing and toward his younger brother.
Miles breathed a sigh of relief and remained where he was, intent on catching his breath.
“How good it is to see you again!” Delevan said, setting aside his and Sarah’s satchels, so that he might give Miles a brotherly hug.
“And you,” said Miles, returning his hug. “I feared you would be gone before I could reach you.”
“Are our business affairs such, that they demand extraordinary haste on your part, and immediate attention on mine?” Delevan asked, his smile revealing his lack of concern that it was so.
“Our business endeavors are successful, but it is not of that which I feel I must speak.”
/> “You’ve stirred my curiosity,” said Delevan. “But see here, my joy at seeing you once again, has caused me to be forgetful. Miles, I believe you have met Miss Williams, have you not?”
“Only just,” said Miles, acknowledging Sarah’s smile with a nod, and thinking how very awkward this was for himself, if for no one else just yet.
“You’re the first to know, Miles,” Delevan said, holding Sarah’s arm a little closer. They looked at one another and smiled. “Sarah has agreed to be my wife. We are on our way to be married. I am so very glad you reached us when you did, or I fear it would have been a long while before we had the chance to see one another again.”
The look that passed between Delevan and Sarah caused Miles to hesitate. He could not doubt the affection they had for one another. He was confident in his ability to judge character, and if he must do so now, he would not doubt Sarah’s.
Perhaps the information he possessed was false. Perhaps Sarah could explain. But if she could not, then Delevan must know of it at once. If Miles was silent and tragedy befell his brother as a result, never could he forgive himself, nor did he have the right to keep such concerns as he had to himself.
“Delevan, I take no joy in what I must reveal to you,” Miles said, passing over Delevan’s words, and turning to the undesirable task at hand. His eyes held no laughter. Such a rare occurrence was this, his brother was more concerned by that lack, than he was Miles’ words.
“Miles, whatever can be wrong?” he asked, concern sharpening his voice.
Miles opened his satchel and removed a folded page. His eyes held the deepest sympathy as he handed it to Delevan, and then watched for a moment as his brother read, and understanding began to dawn.
Shock registered on Delevan’s face, and Sarah paled.
“And so you discovered this during your travel,” Delevan said evenly.
“It was necessary that I meet with the Sheriff a number of times as you will recall,” Miles answered. “It was with dismay that I saw the paper you hold in your hand. I kept my concerns to myself, but brought the paper away with me.”
Delevan sighed and nodded, then turned his gaze upon Sarah.
Miles turned aside. He made as if to sort through the remaining papers in his satchel, in order that Delevan and his fiancé might have a semblance of privacy.
“Have you an explanation?” Delevan asked evenly. “I should certainly like to hear of it, if you do. I cannot devise a way in which your photograph should be on a handbill, if you are not guilty in some way.”
A tear rolled down Sarah’s pale cheek, and her lips trembled. She looked up at Delevan pleadingly.
“I cannot explain in such a way that you will understand. It is impossible, I think.”
“Do put forth the effort, in spite of it,” he said.
Miles felt deeply for them both. Delevan’s cold demeanor masked his grief, while Sarah’s was plainly displayed.
She blotted the tears from her cheeks and took a moment to compose herself.
“I am not of your class as I encouraged you to assume, yet I am not so low as you now have reason to believe. My heritage is not so very different than your own.”
“It is not that which concerns me,” said Delevan, raising an eyebrow, as he held up the handbill.
Acknowledging his words with a nod, Sarah spoke quickly.
“Not all of those in my family have proven worthy of that heritage. My brother is a conman and outlaw. He grieved my parents until their deaths, at which time I came under his authority. He found me useful in the occupation he chose, but it is only under threat that I complied. It was only ever under threat that I allowed myself to be used in his schemes, and not without first learning the consequence of rebellion. If there was a means of escape, I did not discover it.”
There was a brief flash of anger in Delevan’s eyes at learning of her plight. Miles hurt for his brother, and for Sarah also. He saw no sign of deception in her. The situation she described, left her with little recourse.
“This then, is true,” Delevan stated flatly, glancing at the handbill once again.
“What you see is the work of my brother, in both the crime, and in laying the blame at my feet. The paper you hold in your hand accuses me falsely. And yet, in all matters I cannot say that I am innocent.”
Miles sighed quietly, as he averted his gaze once more. He focused unseeing eyes on the contents of his satchel. The papers, gun belt and revolvers, which he placed inside upon boarding the train for home, held little interest in light of the heartbreak playing out before him.
Sarah waited for Delevan to respond. She wished for some sign that the affection and acceptance he had for her just moments ago was not entirely destroyed, but there was none. She sighed.
“I ran away from him and that life, the moment opportunity presented itself. I wished to leave it behind and to forget that miserable chapter. The woman you came to know and love is who I am, and who I would always have been, if my parents were not taken from me.”
Delevan shook his head slowly.
“Why did you not tell me? To learn of this in such a way... it is a poor way to nurture trust.”
“I wished to forget that life,” she said, her eyes pleading to be understood. “I did not choose it, and ran from it, as soon as I had that chance. I do not wish to own it, and be overshadowed by it. Delevan, your parents despise me already, based on heritage and that I travel alone. Can you not imagine their position toward me if they were to know of this? I wished desperately to start over, to forget my past, and to leave it behind.”
Never did Miles feel so wrong about doing that which was right. This past which once imprisoned her would not now be threatening to do so again, if he kept his concerns to himself.
Delevan sighed deeply.
“In spite of it, you should not have kept this from me. You have placed me in a difficult position.”
“Please forgive me,” she said sincerely, seeing as she did not before. “I have thought only of myself in this. I did not give consideration to you. I was foolish to think that by the use of silence, I could leave this behind.”
“We have a great deal to talk over,” Delevan said. “I do not see my way clear to proceed as we intended. In spite of your words of assurance and all other considerations aside, the accusation on this handbill is real and must be dealt with in some way, else the past shall forever threaten the future. Come, let us return to the estate. We shall do our talking there.”
Sarah nodded in acceptance, but there was no hope in her eyes. To return to his home and have her past revealed when already she was considered unworthy, could only result in misery.
“Delevan… wait but a moment,” Miles said quickly.
Delevan glanced at his brother, but before Miles could speak further, they caught a glimpse of movement on the other side of the clearing.
Miles remained motionless as he rapidly took account of their adversaries, for that is what they were. Three outlaws, revolvers at their sides and confidence in their eyes, and photos of all three on the handbill with Sarah’s. He and Delevan were outnumbered, but they were not unarmed. He need move his hand only slightly, to grasp the nearest of the guns in the gun belt placed inside his satchel. He cocked it slowly, so as to make no sound.
“What is your business here?” asked Delevan, flecks of steel in his gray eyes.
“I’ve come to collect my sister,” said one of the men, the leader by all appearances.
Sarah gripped her handbag tightly.
“Why did you follow me, Dan?” she asked, trying to still the tremor in her voice. “Why could you not let me go?”
“You’re of far too much use to me,” he said, his eyes cold. “Of course I followed you.”
“This lady is my fiancé, and it is clear to me she wishes to have nothing to do with you,” said Delevan firmly.
Sarah had no time to register relief at hearing his words.
Dan’s gaze hardened.
“Until my s
ister comes of age, she is no one’s fiancé.” He glared at Delevan a moment, then addressed his words to Sarah. “You were a fool to leave, and a greater fool to become involved with this sort. I will not have it.”
Before Delevan realized her intention, Sarah left his side and hurried toward her brother, and the other men.
“Sarah, no!” said Delevan, but she did not turn back.
Delevan’s heart sank. The brothers watched with concern, the thought crossing their minds that she might be part of a con targeting Delevan. If she was, Miles would no longer feel so certain of his ability to judge character.
Crossing the clearing, she clutched her brother’s arm.
“I will go with you if that is what you want, but please, just leave them alone!” Sarah tugged on her brother’s arm, trying to draw him closer to the woods, and further from Delevan and Miles.
“Sarah, no!” Delevan shouted.
Miles tightened his grip on the revolver in his hand and Delevan took several steps forward, as Sarah’s brother flung her aside, and he and his men reached for their guns.
“No!” Sarah screamed.
What happened after was a blur. In a flash Miles’ own revolver was out and he and Delevan fired. Two of the men fell to the ground. Miles pitched the second revolver to his brother as he re-cocked his own. As Miles took aim at Dan, one of the downed men fired again. Miles felt a searing pain in his right knee, and collapsed. As Delevan caught Miles’ revolver, he used the second and last round in his derringer to still the shooter permanently. Dan shot at Delevan and missed, as Delevan cocked the borrowed revolver. Focusing through overwhelming pain, Miles steadied his arm and fired. Delevan’s adversary clutched his arm with a scream of agony, and the gun fell from his hand. He staggered, then sat down heavily, nursing the wounded arm.
Sarah scrambled to her feet, and flung Dan’s gun out of reach.
“Tell me if he moves, Sarah,” Delevan said, as he turned quickly to Miles.
“Miles! Are you alright?” he asked anxiously, kneeling to examine his brother’s wound.
“I’ll—be alright,” Miles grimaced, wondering if that could possibly be true.
Miles Page 5
