CHAPTER TWENTY

So many worlds, so much to do,

So little done, such things to be.

—LORD TENNYSON

I flew blindly out the door, only stopping when I realized I stood in the middle of a wall of fog and could see neither the cabin nor the woods, although I knew the cabin was somewhere behind me. My breath came hard and fast, my lungs pressing on my ribs.

“Stuart!” I screamed, feeling the panic rise and struggle to choke me. Pamela was out there with her gun. “Stuart!” The swirling haze sucked up my voice, evaporating the sound.

A dark form emerged from the mist and I struck out in an automatic reflex. A strong hand grabbed hold of my wrist, but another scream died in my throat when I recognized Stuart.

“I have Zeke—he has been shot. Help me get him back to the cabin.” A thick shadow hovered behind Stuart’s shoulders and I realized it was his grandfather.

“This way,” I said, leading him the way I had come.

Stuart laid Zeke on the bed and pulled a knife from his belt. Bright crimson spotted Stuart’s jacket in an incongruous rose pattern as the coppery taste of blood lingered in the air. Stuart cut through Zeke’s pants, peeling back the blood-saturated material. A hole in his right thigh, about the size of a quarter, oozed red, surrounded by black tissue. It looked surprisingly like a black eye in the middle of his thigh. Congealed blood spilled down his forehead, making his hair stick to his skin. A soft groan emerged from Zeke’s cracked lips, letting us know that he was alive. But from the gray pallor of his skin, I wasn’t sure for how much longer. A large loss of blood would lead to shock. He needed a massive infusion of fluid.

I raced to the cold fireplace and took down the kettle, luckily filled with water. Using a ladle, I began feeding him the fluid his body needed.

“Give me your nightgown.” I hardly recognized Stuart’s voice.

“What?”

“I need it to staunch the flow of blood.” Stuart reached for the hem of my nightgown.

He tore a hole in it with his knife, and, with a heavy jerk, made a large horizontal tear.

I reached over to the bed and snatched the sheet off of it. “Use this instead.” I had already realized that one of us had to run for help, and I certainly didn’t want to do it naked.

Stuart and I began ripping at the sheet, aided by the knife.

“It was Pamela, Stuart. I saw her.”

Stuart didn’t pause. He vigorously ripped the fabric and then moved to Zeke’s side to apply it with pressure to the gaping wound.

He looked at me, blue eyes blazing. “She was here?”

I paused, not knowing how much I could tell him. “Yes. I heard your shout, so I opened the door and she was there. She had a gun, but she ran when she heard your voice.”

I couldn’t look at him, afraid he’d see the lie in my eyes. I went over to Zeke and lifted his arm. The skin on his forearm felt clammy and cold. “One of us needs to get help.”

“I know.” He looked at me closely. “But I have experience with gunshot wounds.” Our eyes met over Zeke’s still form. “Endy knows the way blindfolded and can get you to Phoenix Hall quickly.”

I swallowed. The thought of riding Endy at a trot in full daylight was harrowing. The thought of riding him through the woods in heavy fog at breakneck speed was unthinkable. I looked down at Zeke, whose shallow breath barely made his chest rise and from whom the stench of blood rose thick in the air. The thought of him dying under my unskilled hands was worse. “All right. I can do it.”

He nodded. “You will be fine.” His voice held all the conviction I lacked.

I stayed with Zeke, applying pressure to the wound, while Stuart saddled Endy.

The fog had begun to lift and hovered amid the higher branches of the trees, the murky sun making an effort to penetrate the cloud and illuminate us below.

Stuart wrapped me in his warm coat and strapped his holster and gun around my waist. I knew I had nothing to fear from Pamela, but accepted the gun without comment. As he lifted me into the saddle, he said, with a weak grin, “Do not shoot the horse.”

I couldn’t make my facial muscles return his grin. “Yeah, sure.” I grabbed hold of the pommel. My voice shaking, I said, “Okay. I’m ready.”

He gave me the reins, patted the horse on the rump, and shouted, “Go!” The earth slid out from under me as the great beast lurched forward, his speed steadily climbing as he began to cover the distance. All the riding tips and pointers that Stuart had given me during my informal lessons fell by the wayside. The only thing I could think of was holding on for dear life to avoid being thrown off and trampled. The thought of Zeke’s pale body on the bed spurred me on, and with renewed fervor I kicked the sides of the horse, making him gallop harder.

The outlines of Phoenix Hall appeared, and I leaned over the horse’s neck, giving him the lead. The air was sucked out of my lungs, my fingers numb from gripping the saddle so tightly.

Endy stopped at the back porch, and I was relieved to see Julia at the door, as I had no idea how to dismount from the horse by myself.

“Julia, Zeke’s been shot.” I left out the detail of who had shot him. That would come out soon enough. “He might be dying, and he needs help.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s at his cabin with Stuart.”

She stepped forward, grabbing my arm. “Sarah is missing. Have you seen her?”

“Yes.” I swallowed, trying to still the shakiness in my voice. “She’s fine right now. We’ll talk about it later.”

She didn’t release her grip. “Did you say anything to her to make her run away?”

“No, Julia. I promised you I wouldn’t, and I didn’t. We’ll talk about it later—we’ve got to help Zeke now.”

Too distracted to notice my dress, or lack thereof, Julia turned around to go back up the porch steps, her skirts swirling around her. “I will get my medicine and take Endy back to the cabin. You go get Charles and bring him there.”

Within minutes, we had exchanged places and I watched her disappear into the woods, her skirts flying around the black flank of the horse, her long hair streaming unbound behind her.

Charles’s office and residence were only about one mile from Phoenix Hall, and I ran all the way. I was out of practice, but the adrenaline pushed me down the dirt lanes and brick road to his house.

A rumpled Dr. Watkins was busily trying to erase the sleep from his eyes when he finally answered my banging on the door. His robe was belted over his nightshirt, and his face registered shock at my appearance. His eyes took in Stuart’s coat thrown over my torn nightgown and my bare toes peeping out from under the ragged hem.

I pushed open the door. “I am sorry to bother you so early, Dr. Watkins, but we need you. Zeke has been shot.”

The disapproving frown disappeared from his face as he sprang into action. “I will be down in a moment.” He paused on the top step, looked at my disheveled appearance once again, and opened his mouth to say something. He closed it, then ran up the rest of the flight of stairs.

Knowing the buggy wouldn’t fit through the path in the woods, we rode the doctor’s horse. I kept pulling my nightgown over my legs as best I could, but eventually gave up, hoping Dr. Watkins had more important things on his mind than my alarming lack of modesty.

The cloying aroma of brewing herbs struck me as we entered the cabin. A soft groan came from the bed, and I sighed with relief knowing Zeke was still alive. Realizing I could only get in the way, I approached the now rekindled and blazing fire, my frozen fingers and toes aching with cold.

“Thank you again, Laura.” I startled at the soft voice behind me and whipped around to see Julia, her hands caked with blood and droplets spattered on her dress in a macabre pattern.

“For what?”

“For once again coming between my family and disaster.”

I waved my hand at her, feeling guilty for my part in this particular disaster. “I haven’t done anything but be a messenger. I feel quite helpless, actually.”

She sat down next to me in the rocker. Nodding in the direction of the bed, she said, “He is in good hands now. I have faith that Charles can save him.”

Julia began to tuck stray ends of hair behind her ears. Then, in a barely audible voice, she said, “It was Pamela who did this?”

I answered simply, “Yes.”

Her shoulders slumped and she looked down at her lap. “I blame myself, then. I knew she was not in her right mind. I should have had her committed long ago.” Her hands rested in a tight ball in her lap. “But she was the only family I had left. I never thought she could do something like this.”

I stared into the fire and saw two dark eyes staring back at me over the muzzle of a rifle. “She has Sarah.”

She stood so suddenly her chair would have crashed to the floor if I hadn’t steadied it. “What? Where is she? We have to find her.” Her eyes widened as the color drained from her face. “She is not safe with Pamela.”

“Sit down,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm.

After a brief hesitation, she did as I’d asked. I leaned closer so as not to be overheard. “She’s blackmailing me. If I do something for her, she’ll keep Sarah safe.”

Her fingers gripped the chair arms. “What does she want you to do?”

I shook my head. “I can’t tell you—it would put all of us in jeopardy. And you can’t tell anyone what you know, either—especially not Stuart. She’s threatened all of you if I whisper a word. We already know what she’s capable of.” I glanced at Zeke. “I will do whatever it takes to get her back. Do you understand?”

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking from silent sobs. I knelt in front of her chair. “Do you understand, Julia? You’re not to tell anyone. You need to trust me.”

She nodded, then raised her head, her eyes rimmed with red. “When will this war be over and we can resume our lives again? Nothing is as it should be anymore, and I am starting to doubt that we can survive it.”

I grabbed her with a hand on each shoulder. “Listen to me. This war will be over in slightly more than a year. You’ve already made it through almost three years of hardship and worry. I know you can go a little bit more. And I can promise you that you will not lose your house.” I wondered if I had said too much, but I couldn’t bear to see her give up now.

Her sobs had stopped and she stared at me. “How do you know these things, Laura? How could you possibly know?”

I glanced at the two men by the bed, tending to Zeke and out of earshot. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, Julia, but I swear it’s true. I don’t know why or how—all I know is that it really happened and I’m as sane as I’ve ever been.”

She leaned forward, her swollen eyes open wide. “What are you talking about?”

I took a deep breath and blurted out everything before I could change my mind. I didn’t leave out any details, as if by including everything, it would seem more believable to us both.

I paused briefly and finished. “I was born in 1979. Technically, I haven’t been born yet and won’t be for another one hundred and sixteen years from now.” I could now see the whites all around her irises.

“Ouch! You’re hurting me.” Her fingers had become clawlike as they gripped me.

She immediately released her grip. “Sarah, too?”

I had to lean closer to hear her, her voice was so quiet. I nodded. “And Pamela. But I don’t know how long she’s been here. She said she was from the nineteen fifties.” I felt the burden of my secret release a bit of its hold on me.

Julia blinked, as if she were trying to focus on something she couldn’t quite see. “How is this possible?” she whispered.

“I don’t know. All I know is that there’s some kind of a connection between Moon Mountain and the dual specter of a lunar eclipse and a comet. And this.” I showed her my birthmark. She sucked in a deep breath, and I knew she was recognizing it from Sarah’s arm. “Besides that, I don’t know. But I suspect Pamela does. It was no accident that found her here in this time.”

I looked closely at her. Her face blanched, her eyes dark circles of color in her white face. “Are you okay?” I rose to be able to catch her if she decided to fall out of her chair.

She nodded, but I remained unconvinced. “This is a bit of a shock.” She stood shakily. “But this is the least of our worries right now,” she said, indicating the tableaux by the bed.

“I don’t know why I’m here—if there’s even a reason for it. And I don’t know what repercussions there could be. No one knows but you. And Pamela. She knows about Sarah, too.”

She gave me a weary nod of her head and stood. “I want to argue with you, to force you to bring me with you to save our daughter. But I do trust you. Just as much as I understand that you must do this alone. I do not like it, but I cannot fight it.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please bring Sarah back safely, Laura. Without her . . .” She looked away, unable to finish her sentence.

Slowly, she returned to the bedside. I stole a glance at the still figure on the bed and felt a sinking feeling in my belly. The sheets were stained a deep crimson, creating a dramatic backdrop to the pale leg lying on top. A white bandage, startling against the grayness of his hair, now covered most of Zeke’s forehead. Charles probed into the leg wound with a long metal instrument, while Stuart poured the amber contents of Zeke’s beloved jug over the hole, making Zeke’s body twitch. I swallowed quickly and turned away. I felt helpless in my inactivity, but I knew there was nothing more I could do.

*   *   *

I awoke to the sound of a log falling in the fireplace. Stuart prodded the fire with a poker, his face grim. I sat up with a start, my stomach grumbling. “What time is it?”

His face creased in a slight smile. “Time for you to eat.”

I glanced toward the bed. A white bandage had been wrapped around the wounded leg, but there was still no movement from Zeke. “How is he?”

“Better. Charles managed to remove as much of the bullet as he could, and Julia has dressed the wound to prevent it from festering. Now we just wait and see.”

“Where are Charles and Julia?”

“They have returned to Phoenix Hall. We are to bring Zeke there later. He is not safe here.”

“Stuart.” A weak voice sounded from the bed.

Zeke’s teeth chattered together, his whole body shaking. I pulled the quilt up on the bed and tucked it in around him. He had always appeared tall and imposing, but now it was as if his body had left a mere shadow of the man on the bed. Instinctively, I laid a hand on his forehead and brushed the hair out of his eyes.

His eyes bored into mine, emphasizing his words. “We have to get you away from here. Pamela . . . It was Pamela.”

“We know,” said Stuart. “We are going to bring you back to Phoenix Hall to keep you safe.” He dipped a ladle into the water bucket and held it to Zeke’s lips.

Zeke pushed it away angrily. “Listen,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It is Laura who is in danger.”

He began to rise off the bed, but I gently pushed him back. “It’s okay. Pamela won’t hurt me. We reached a truce. We’re safe.”

I felt two sets of eyes on me and could not meet either one.

“What kind of a truce?” Stuart’s voice held a hint of anger, but I managed to meet his eyes.

“I need you to trust me again. A lot more than you know is at stake.” Zeke groaned, and I saw that his eyes had become glazed. “Do you have anything for his pain?”

Distracted momentarily, Stuart answered, “Yes, Julia left some wintergreen tea.” He walked toward the fire. “We are not done with our discussion.”

Nothing more was said as Endy was saddled and we prepared to vacate the cabin. We rode back to Phoenix Hall near dusk in a somber procession. I sat behind Zeke on Endy’s saddle, clutching tightly to the older man to prevent him from slipping off. His mind was clouded over with pain. He spoke in a tongue I had never heard before—probably Cherokee. I was surprised when Stuart answered him back in the same language. The soothing inflections of his voice told me he offered words of comfort to his grandfather.

While Stuart brought Zeke inside, I raced upstairs to put on some clothes. It felt strange to be in my room again, as I remembered the last time I had been there and was in a haze of poison and near death. I shuddered but entered, the cheeriness of the room pushing back the dark thoughts of Sarah with Matt Kimble. And what might happen should I fail to do the impossible.

I dressed hurriedly, skipping the corset and hoops, but at least remembering three petticoats. My mind raced as I buttoned up the coarse muslin, weighing my options.

When I had entered the house, I had noticed all the little things that were missing: pictures from the walls, knickknacks from the tables. I had nearly tripped over a trunk of children’s clothes and linens that lay open at the bottom of the steps. It was apparent that Julia was ready to move her household to Valdosta.

Pamela had told me to stay. But I could not endanger Sarah’s life by telling anyone why. I had to think of another reason.

I followed voices into the parlor as I came down the steps. Stuart stood by the window, drinking from a glass. Dr. Watkins stood next to him, his eyes on Julia, who was sitting on the sofa. All heads turned as I entered.

“You are leaving for Valdosta tomorrow.” Stuart took a deep swallow from his drink.

I bristled under his authoritative statement. “I don’t think so.”

He raised a questioning eyebrow.

I turned to Charles. “Surely Zeke shouldn’t be moved yet.”

“Yes, you are quite correct.” He looked at Stuart and shrugged. “But the news from up north is not good. The Yankees are amassing a huge army just north of our border, and Captain Clark of the Roswell Battalion has informed me that they will be making defensive preparations in case of an attack on Roswell. He is advising that women and children leave.”

“And it is doubtful my mother will follow us all the way south to Valdosta.” Julia’s quiet voice was almost lost in the din of the blood pounding in my temples. I had thought of a plan.

“I will stay here with Zeke. When he is well enough to travel, we will follow you.”

Stuart and Charles began their protests at once. But Julia’s voice drowned them out. “Laura is right. It could kill Zeke to move him. The Yankees are not coming tomorrow—they will be safe for the time being. If she wants to stay, then let her stay.”

My gaze met Julia’s, and she gave a quick nod before glancing away.

“But what about Pamela? She tried to kill you and Zeke both.” Stuart rubbed his hand through his hair. “And I could never leave a woman alone here with only a sick old man.” He stopped his pacing to stand in front of me. “What kind of a truce did you make with Pamela?”

Charles stepped in. “You cannot trust Pamela. Her mind is obviously unhinged.”

“I can’t tell you—I gave her my word.” I stared into two sets of eyes, one brown, the other blue, and saw the same expression in them. Like I was some recalcitrant child that needed to be persuaded into something that was for her own good. “I know I have said this more times than you’ve wanted to hear it, but you have to trust me. There is too much at stake for me to tell you any more.”

Julia’s voice sounded loud and clear. “Think of everything that Laura has done for this family. She has never betrayed our trust in her. I believe her and will do as she asks. I am asking you both to do the same.”

I could see Stuart wavering.

Julia stood, imposing despite her small stature. “Would you rather we abandoned your house to looters and put your grandfather at risk?”

The two men looked at us as if we had lost our minds. Stuart scooped his hat off the table, and glowered at Julia and me. “I have met mules who were less stubborn than you two women. God help the Yankees if they ever pick a fight with you.” Excusing himself, he left the room, with Charles following in short order.

Julia faced me, her false bravado gone. “Have you any news of Sarah?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. But I won’t go anywhere until I know she’s all right, and I will let you know. Somehow I will get word to you.”

She surprised me by hugging me. “I don’t know how we have survived without you.” Pulling back, she said, “I need to see to Zeke. Before I leave tomorrow, I will have to show you how to make his dressings and how to prepare his medicine. I will also need to come up with a plausible reason why Sarah isn’t with us.” In a rustling of her skirts, she also left the room.

All through the night, the slamming of drawers and trunk lids and the sounds of heavy furniture being dragged across wooden floors shattered the night. I was relieved to see the piano remaining, assuming it was too big to be moved anywhere and thus also safe from the Yankees.

The following morning, I stood staring out the sidelights of the front door, watching Stuart load one of the wooden farm wagons. Soft footsteps approached behind me, the light fragrance of lavender surrounding me.

“He’s almost done,” I said. Julia stood beside me and nodded. “What did you tell the men about Sarah?”

She turned and placed her valise on top of a trunk. “I told them she had been invited by Ruth and Josiah Reed to ride to Valdosta with them and their family. They left yesterday.” She took my hand and squeezed it. “Godspeed, Laura. And bring Sarah home.” Her voice cracked, her eyes pooling with tears.

I ignored her reference to home, as if the very word wasn’t in dispute.

She let go of my hand and reached into a pocket of her cloak. “I want you to have this. It goes to the secret compartment in the armoire in my bedroom. I am taking the family Bible with me, but I’ve copied all the family records in here—of births and deaths.” Her eyes bored into mine, and I reached for the object she was handing me. I knew which armoire she was speaking of: the same one that would sit in my bedroom more than 150 years in the future. But I had never known it contained a secret compartment.

“I will put some personal family letters and documents in it. If you do return to your home, you will be able to find out what has become of us all.” Her eyes were misty as she dropped a small, heavy object into my hand. I looked down, my palm burning. Lying in my open palm was a key. A key identical to the one worn around the neck of the woman in the portrait Mrs. Cudahy had given me. “I have one just like it and will keep it locked after I have put everything in it.”

I swallowed to ease my suddenly dry throat. “Thank you, Julia. But I hope that I can give it back to you in person.” She embraced me tightly, the top of her head resting under my chin and her hair smelling of lavender and wood smoke.

Stuart came in the front door and hoisted the last trunk onto his broad shoulders, his limp no longer discernible. He avoided looking in my direction and left again to put the final piece of luggage on the wagon. From the corner of my eye, a gleam of silver caught my attention. Mrs. Cudahy’s tray, forgotten on a hall table. Easy pickings for the marauding army. I grabbed it up and ran out of the house, clutching it to my bosom.

“Wait! You forgot this!”

Stuart jumped down from the wagon. “One of the few unsold pieces of my mother’s wedding silver. Thank you.”

Our eyes met in the watery reflection of the smooth silver. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind about staying,” he said.

“No. You can’t.” I stepped closer. “Do you remember what Zeke told you right after I came here? Something about how you needed to trust me because I would be your salvation? This is the time, Stuart. Regardless of where you think my loyalties lie, you need to believe that I have your and your family’s best interests at heart. Staying here with Zeke is something I need to do. I’m not helpless, and I certainly don’t need a man around to protect me. Don’t worry about me—I can take care of myself. You taught me how to shoot, remember?”

His eyes narrowed into blue slits. “There is an army of about a hundred thousand men who are thinking about heading in this direction, and you are telling me not to worry about you. It is all I can do not to tie you up and throw you in the back of this wagon. Maybe all the jostling on the road to Valdosta would knock some sense into you.”

“I wish we could stop arguing about this. My mind’s made up and I won’t budge. Can’t we just leave it at that and say a proper goodbye?”

He leapt onto the wagon and secured the tray in one of the trunks. I wondered briefly if I would ever see it again in this century.

I thought again of telling him everything, and just as quickly dismissed it from my mind. Sarah’s life hung in the balance, as did Stuart’s and everybody else’s, and there was no doubt in my mind what Pamela would do if she found out I had confided in him. I looked up at his stormy face and knew that no matter what I said, he didn’t really trust me enough to leave this alone.

The gray sky overhead held the chill of the air close to the earth, and the heavy cloud cover threatened rain. I wrapped my shawl tightly around me as Willie ambled out of the house, his eyes downcast. Even the horse seemed subdued. I had said goodbyes many times in my life, but none as painful or as permanent as this one seemed to be.

Julia had gone to the cemetery to say goodbye to Robbie one more time. I wanted to reassure her that she would come back to Roswell at the war’s end. All I knew was that her beloved house would survive, but not who would come back to claim it.

“Laura.”

I turned to see Stuart with his arm outstretched. I took his hand and allowed him to lead me across the winter-browned grass to the side of the house. The deceptive dark green of the boxwoods made it seem like spring, but the drab browns and grays of the rest of the fauna reminded me that this was the darkest part of the year.

“No, I am not going to ask you again. I know your mind is made up. But I cannot leave you, in good conscience, without means to protect yourself. I have asked Charles to keep an eye on things here. Let him know if there is anything you need.” He stopped walking and turned to me, his blue stare melting something inside me. “And there is something else.”

He lifted my left hand and I felt cold metal on the tip of my third finger. A gold filigree ring with a stone of black jet slid easily over my knuckle, resting next to Michael’s plain gold band.

I stared at it, the smooth surface reflecting the clouds overhead. “What is this?”

“My father gave this to my mother when he proposed to her.” His eyes studied me, as if measuring my reaction. “I am giving this to you for protection.”

My gaze traveled back down to the ring, dark against the paleness of my skin. “How would this protect me?”

His gaze never wavered. “That would depend on which army you have the most to fear. If you marry me, you would become not only the wife of a Confederate officer, but also the sister-in-law of a Federal officer on General Sherman’s staff. You would be covered on all sides.”

I blinked hard. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Well, yes.”

“To protect me?”

“Yes—among other reasons.”

“Like what?”

He paused, scrutinizing me. “I will tell you everything when you do the same.”

I touched the ring with my right hand, shaking my head. “I am glad that is the main reason. Otherwise, I could not say yes in good conscience.”

His arms went around me, pulling me close. His lips touched mine briefly before he pulled away. “I will be back as soon as I know Julia is settled. When I return, we will have the Reverend Pratt make it official.”

I clutched the ring tightly, trying to hold on to the smallest glimmer of reality. How could I marry him and then disappear? Could he remarry, not knowing what had happened to his wife?

He kissed me again and held me against him for a long time, until we heard Julia’s voice calling for us. With a final kiss, he led me back to the wagon to say my final goodbyes. As I kneeled one last time in front of Willie, he clutched at my skirt. “Miss Laura. I am going to miss you so much!”

I shut my eyes tight and hugged him to me. “And I’m going to miss you, too, Willie.”

He looked up at me with his tear-streaked face, and I brushed the drops aside with my fingers before planting a kiss on his freckled nose. I said goodbye one last time and helped him up to the bench seat of the wagon. “Mind your mama now, you hear?”

Stuart mounted Endy and suddenly there was nothing more to do. They were ready to leave Roswell and their home for the duration of the war, and perhaps longer. It was time. I hugged Julia one last time before Stuart helped her up and she took the reins, and then I forced myself to wave as the wagon pulled out, Endy following closely behind.

I watched them until they were nearly at the end of the long drive before I couldn’t take it anymore. “Wait!” I shouted. I ran to catch up with Stuart, my skirts held shockingly high. I reached him all out of breath and, before I could protest, he leaned down and pulled me up on the saddle in front of him.

“Did you forget something?” The side of his mouth quirked up slightly.

“Yes, I did.” I swallowed deeply, trying to regain my breath. “I forgot to tell you to be careful.” Something flickered in his eyes, his hands tightening on my waist. I threw my arms around him, kissed him soundly, then quickly slid off the side of the horse.

Julia gave me a wan look as the loaded wagon trundled past, and I knew she was thinking of Sarah. I mouthed the words, “I’ll bring her back,” and she nodded as she passed me. Willie’s dark head bobbed beside her, his brown eyes filled with tears. I sucked in my breath and held it, afraid to let it go. Afraid to let them hear my shrieking out my grief at letting them go, and my fear of staying behind and not knowing what was to come.

Sukie sat on the other side of Willie, hugging him. A wheel hit a soggy rut, and there was a moment when we thought that their trip would be delayed, but the straining of the horse pulled it out and they continued down the front drive.

Stuart sat atop Endy, his eyes fixed on me. Finally, as the wagon drove through the front gates, he tipped his hat and turned the horse around to follow. I raced after them and stood leaning on the gate, bent over while I sucked in my breath in deep gulps, my gaze anchored to Stuart’s back until he disappeared around the bend.

I lifted my muddy skirts and trudged back to the house. I felt the unfamiliar weight on my finger and stopped halfway to examine the ring. The overcast sky clouded the jet, giving it only a murky gleam. I felt the tears coming and knew I couldn’t hold them back much longer. I stared at the house as I got nearer and felt a surge of pride and, for the first time, what compelled Stuart and so many others like him to risk their lives for their homes and all they represented. There had always been a connection between this house and me ever since I had first seen it with Michael. Phoenix Hall had become my home and my daughter’s, just as the Elliotts had become my family. Perhaps I had been sent here to save them both from destruction. Or maybe I had been sent here to find happiness in my life again. And, maybe still, the two were connected.

A black crow flew overhead, cawing loudly. A feeling of someone walking over my grave settled on me, making my skin tingle with dread, and I thought of Sarah and where she might be. I climbed the porch and entered the house, closing the door soundly behind me.