CHAPTER ELEVEN

It took her a long time to fall asleep, but when she did she slept soundly, undisturbed by further nightmares or men on galloping stallions.

In the morning she lay thinking of the strange man who had disappeared practically before her eyes. She had not heard him gallop away. He had vanished into thin air, it seemed. She held fast to the belief that he had been sent by her father. She was positive she’d seen the word “father” formed by his lips during his silent speech. She’d find her father, wherever he was, and the riddle of the rider in black would most likely have a very simple explanation.

Aunt Rose tapped at the door and opened it without waiting for an invitation. “Well, I see you’re wide awake,” she said. “Did you sleep well, child?”

Julia stretched. “After a fashion,” she said. “I had the most awful nightmare, though.”

“Girls as young and pretty as you aren’t supposed to have nightmares,” Aunt Rose said, turning to straighten the things on the bureau.

“Not only did I have a nightmare, but I also had a visit from a very handsome young man on a white horse.”

Her aunt stopped fussing with the things on the bureau and turned sharply. “What is that you say?”

Julia was smiling. “I said I had a middle-of-the-night visit from a rather handsome young gentleman on a white charger.”

Aunt Rose’s eyes widened. She stared at Julia with what Julia interpreted as puritan disapproval. Julia laughed. “Oh, Aunt, it was nothing like that. I awoke to the sound of a horse’s hooves on the street outside. I went to investigate and I saw a man dressed in black, seated astride a white horse standing below my window. He spoke to me but, oddly enough, I could not hear what he said. It was as if he spoke into a vacuum. So I put on a robe and slippers and went downstairs and outside. By the time I got outside to where he’d been standing, he was gone, vanished. What is it, Aunt? You look quite strange. Are you feeling all right?”

Aunt Rose pulled herself together. Again she resumed fussing with the things on the bureau. “It’s nothing,” she said hastily. But Julia sensed by her sudden nervous actions that something she’d said had upset her aunt. “Do you know this man whom my father sent to me last night?”

“I don’t know,” Aunt Rose said, not turning. “You’d better get yourself up and dressed. You’ll be wanting to go to your father’s place. I suppose he knows you’ve arrived. News here in Belham travels like wildfire.”

“If my father knows I’m here, why hasn’t he shown up to meet me?” Julia knit her brows. “Perhaps he doesn’t want me. I never thought that he may not want a daughter.”

“Of course your father wants you. The man was half-crazed when you and your mother disappeared. Then when Bridget’s body was brought back and they said they took you away from her, I thought the man would kill the lot of them.”

“They? Who took me away from my mother?”

Aunt Rose brushed an imaginary piece of lint from her dark skirt. “The people in charge of Bridget, of course.”

“In charge of her? I don’t understand.”

Aunt Rose heaved a sigh. “Well, I suppose it’s up to me to tell you, being as I’m your mother’s only sister. You’ll have to know sooner or later. You’re a grown woman now, so I don’t see any harm in your knowing.”

“Knowing what?”

Aunt Rose grinned slyly. “Your sweet and innocent mother died in jail. Oh, everybody said it wasn’t poor Bridget’s fault, the trouble she got herself into. And before anybody could get help, Bridget up and died and they took her baby—you—and we never knew where they took you to. They wouldn’t tell us.”

“Who are they?” Julia asked.

Her aunt gave an impatient wave of her arm. “But you mustn’t be thinking about Bridget. Your mother wasn’t the best of women, but she could have ended up better. Those people over in Weaver were out looking for a kind of revenge. They got revenge, all right,” she said, her eyes shiny and glassy. “We’re a simple folk here and we never did a lick of harm to anyone from Weaver. Nonetheless, they laid hands on Bridget one night out on the road. She was carrying you. They took her and made wild accusations. Then they...Bridget died and we thought they killed you, too.”

Julia gasped. “Killed? They killed my mother?”

Aunt Rose shrugged indifferently. “Oh, I guess I shouldn’t have let that slip out. None of us are positive they actually killed poor Bridget, but there’s a lot of us think they did, if you must know the truth. Of course, the people in Weaver claimed she just up and died, but we never believed them, any of us.”

Julia was horror-struck. “This is monstrous,” she gasped

Aunt Rose merely shrugged and looked undisturbed. “It was a long time ago, girl. It all happened so quickly that it was over before we knew what had happened. One day Bridget was gone, and the next, she was dead and her child had vanished.”

“But surely the police investigated?”

“There isn’t much law and order here. Oh, we have a sheriff of sorts. So does Weaver, but they’re just part-time jobs. There’s no money to pay for real law and order. Nearest law establishment is in Peabody.”

“Well, why didn’t you go to Peabody and have them come and look into the matter?”

“That wasn’t necessary. We took care of it all by ourselves. You’re a stranger in these parts, girl. You’ll learn after a while that we look after our own. Outsiders are no more welcome in Belham than they are in Weaver. It’s been like that since the towns’ beginnings and that’s the way we want it. We take care of our own justice in our own way.”

“But you just allowed Bridget’s child to vanish without looking for it.”

“He looked for you. He was told not to, but he searched for a while and then gave up.”

“What do you mean, he was told not to.”

“Just that.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” Julia said, feeling quite frustrated.

“There’s not much to understand. We got satisfaction for your mother’s death.”

“Revenge? Surely you don’t believe that revenge is the answer?”

“It’s the only answer in these parts. That’s the way of things around here and there’s no changing them. An eye for an eye and all that. That’s what we believe.”

“But that’s barbaric.”

“Well, child, now you know it all. I hadn’t intended telling you all this, but it just popped out before I could catch it. No matter. I suppose sooner is better than later.”

“I must find my father,” Julia said.

“Of course you must. His house is hard to miss. It’s the big gabled one at the very end of town. It sits practically in the middle of the road. Your father was never one for trying to hide himself. A fine, wonderful man, your father. Tall and bold and brave. Yes, indeed, a wonderful man. You must go to him. He’d never come here to you, even knowing you were here.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t he come here to me?”

“He just wouldn’t. He is a proud gent. He seldom ventures into this part of town. He lives with his housekeeper and never bothers anybody. He’s generous to a fault, though, and there isn’t a man, woman, or child in Belham who wouldn’t gladly cut out their hearts for him. Yes, indeed, a good man, your father. You’re a lucky child, you are.”