Snowfire

by French, Colleen

  "Am I certain?" Gabrielle managed a bitter chuckle.

  "What, you don't think I can recognize my own mother?" She lowered her head, blocking her face from view as Alice and her gentleman were seated.

  "No, of course not. I mean . . ."He sighed, squeezing her hand in comfort. "It's just that she doesn't appear to be the woman you've spoken of."

  "I have to admit she's moved up in the world since I last saw her. Maybe her friend's keeping her. But just because she's dressed well and can talk proper-like, that doesn't make her any less a whore!" She yanked her hand from Alex's grasp. "I have to get out of here."

  He got immediately to his feet. "She didn't recognize you; we could stay and eat."

  Gabrielle shook her head emphatically, already coming around the table. "No. I can't stay here. I can't breathe. I've got to get out of these suffocating clothes. You stay if you like." She started past him, but he caught her arm.

  "It's all right, love," he said softly. "We'll go." Walking at her side, they made their way through the dining room.

  Just when Gabrielle thought she'd made her escape, a familiarly grating voice came from behind.

  "Gabrielle," Alice cried gaily. "Is that you, dear?"

  Gabrielle stopped dead, her hand trembling in Alex's.

  "We can go," he whispered in her ear. "Just ignore her."

  "No," she breathed. "I can't spend my whole life running." Gathering her nerve, she turned slowly around. "Alice?" she managed.

  "Gabrielle." The woman with the taffy-colored hair waved a gloved hand. "Come, come, how nice to see you again." She smiled graciously.

  Gabrielle propelled herself forward toward the small table where Alice was seated. Alex followed at her heels.

  "Geoffrey, this is Gabrielle, an old friend," Alice introduced.

  The middle-aged gentleman got to his feet, giving a nod. "So nice to meet you."

  Gabrielle nodded in return. "This is Alex, Jefferson Alexander the fourth," she corrected herself. Her mind went numb as the small talk passed between them. What kind of game was her mother playing that she hadn't introduced her as her daughter? Though she had never paid her a lick of attention, she'd never denied her before. "No, just arrived by steamer this morning," Gabrielle stumbled back into the conversation.

  Alex felt her sway and caught her arm. "Well, we must be going. It's been a long day. Nice to have met you both."

  "Good-bye," Gabrielle whispered, allowing Alex to steer her toward the door.

  "Oh, Gabrielle," Alice called after her. "I'd like to call on you. Where are you staying?"

  When Gabrielle didn't answer, Alex spoke for her. "At the St. Lucy. Mr. and Mrs. Alexander."

  Alice's china doll mask fell for an instant, then suddenly she became the same lighthearted woman her clients sought her for. "The St. Lucy, then. Look for me tomorrow."

  Gabrielle left the hotel's restaurant on Alex's arm, managing not to make a scene, but the moment they were out on the street, she turned on Alex viciously. "How could you? How could you do that to me?" She started down the wooden plank sidewalk, her feet moving rapidly beneath the heavy skirts of her new gown.

  Alex was forced to run to catch up. "How could I what?" He pushed back his hat on his head.

  "You told her where we're staying, Alex. Now we'll have to move."

  "Don't be silly." He followed her down the street, turning onto King's Street. "Why would we move?"

  "Because she won't leave us alone. When she finds out how much gold we brought back, we won't be able to get rid of her. The woman's a leech."

  "Gabrielle, for Christ's sake will you slow down?" He caught the sleeve of her gown. "I just thought you might want to say good-bye. I just thought—" He stopped in mid-sentence as two women and a man passed them, staring curiously. He lowered his voice as they approached their hotel. "She's still your mother. You're never going to see her again."

  "Oh, yes I am. I'm going to see her tomorrow, thanks to you!" She pushed open the glass-windowed door of the St. Lucy and hurried up to the front desk. "Key, please," she stated flatly.

  The painted woman behind the desk looked up with interest. Obediently she slipped their room key from a hook beneath the counter and handed it to Gabrielle. "Have a nice supper?" she asked.

  "No, I did not. Could you please have something sent up?"

  "For you and Mr. Alexander?" It was obvious to her that the couple was having a disagreement.

  Gabrielle glanced at Alex, who waited for her at the bottom of the staircase down the hall. "Yes, I suppose so."

  "And what would you care for?" The woman smiled, her makeup creasing at the corners of her mouth.

  "Anything. Anything will do." She spun around, heading for the stairs. The moment Alex let her in the door, she was tugging off the monstrous hat she wore perched on her head. Flinging it to the floor, she stomped into the bedroom.

  Alex followed. "Are you quite through with your little temper tantrum?" he asked dryly.

  She gave a sigh, moving to the windows to pull the heavy drapes. The room was silent for several moments before she spoke. "I'm sorry, Alex." She turned to face him. "I shouldn't blame you. That woman, she makes me crazy. All of those people looking at me . . . the fancy dishes, the clothes . . ." She tugged at a ruffle at her bodice. "I'm just no good at this."

  He tossed his bowler hat onto a velvet-covered chair. "You were doing just fine."

  "I was so nervous about being out with you with all of those people, and then she appeared." She put up her hands in surrender. "I didn't know what to do."

  Alex gathered Gabrielle in his arms. "It's all right; you did fine. Now don't worry about it. Alice will come tomorrow, you'll say your good-byes and that will be the end of it." He stroked her back soothingly.

  "I hope so." She sighed, resting her head on his broad chest.

  "Now why don't you let me get you out of this." His fingers were already moving nimbly down the back of her new gown.

  "Please." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "The lace itches so bad. I told you it would take me some time to get used to wearing these trappings."

  Alex lowered his mouth to hers, and she leaned into him, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine. Their breath mingled, and she moaned softly, snaking her hands up around his neck. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, inhaling his familiarly masculine scent as she lifted her chin to let him kiss the length of her neck. Unbuttoning the last of the tiny green beads that ran down her back, Alex slipped the shoulder of her gown down, moving the strap of her corset cover with it. "Since when did you start wearing one of these things?"

  She laughed deep in her throat, running her hands over his stiffly starched shirt. "The corset went out with the empty boxes. I just put on the cover. You'll not catch me trussed like a goose."

  "I didn't think so, but the dressmaker insisted I take the thing." He slipped the gown down farther, nibbling at the silken flesh of her shoulder. Letting the gown fall to a heap at her feet, he swung her easily into his arms.

  "What about the supper?" She stroked his clean shaven chin as he laid her gently on the large bed.

  He pressed his lips to hers. "The door's locked," he said huskily, shrugging off his tailored coat. "Just have to wait, won't it?"

  When the knock came at the door the following afternoon, Gabrielle's heart gave a lurch. Brushing her damp hands nervously over her jersey skirt, she got to her feet. "Do I look all right?" she asked Alex.

  He smiled, picking his hat up off a small marble-topped table in the bedroom, and stepped into the parlor, closing the door behind him. "You're beautiful." He kissed the top of her chestnut head. She had pulled her hair back loosely into a chignon at the nape of her neck, letting a few wisps fall free to frame her oval face. "You sure you don't want me to stay?"

  She laid her hand on the door knob. "I'm sure. Go see about hiring the guard. If we're going to leave on the Tuesday morning train, it's got to be done."

  "I know, I just hate to th
row you to the lions."

  The knock came again, only this time more insistent and Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about me. I can handle her." She lifted her chin to let him kiss her gently, then she took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Alice LeBeau entered the parlor of their hotel room with the rustle of taffeta and lace. "Afternoon." She nodded demurely to Alex. "Mr . Alexander, how pleasant to see you again." She fluttered her eyelashes, and Gabrielle groaned aloud. The woman never changed; she was always looking for a potential customer.

  "Good-bye, Alex," Gabrielle murmured, resting her hand on the back of his coat.

  He nodded in Alice's direction and put on his hat. "Good afternoon, ladies. I'll have refreshments sent up as I leave the hotel."

  "You're not staying, Mr. Alexander?" Alice laid her hand gently on his arm.

  "No. Sorry, I can't. I've business to attend to." He stepped back and she smiled, releasing him.

  "Pity." She pulled off her dyed kidskin gloves and laid them on the settee against the wall. "We could have gotten to know each other better."

  Throwing Gabrielle one last glance, Alex went out the door.

  "So, Mother," Gabrielle leaned against the paneled wooden door. "What do you want?"

  "Want?" Alice sat on the velvet settee, taking notice of the pile of paperboard boxes beside her. She lifted the lid off of the box the dressmaker had just delivered that morning. "Do I have to want something to come calling on my daughter? It's just been a long time since I've seen you."

  "So, I'm your daughter today, am I? Why wasn't I yesterday?" She ran her hands down over her slim-fitting bleached muslin shirt waist.

  Alice fingered the rich fabric of the traveling coat in the box on the settee. "Is that what you're mad about? Oh, pooh. You don't think I could tell Geoffrey I was old enough to have a daughter your age, do you?"

  Gabrielle gave an exasperated sigh. "Since when do your gentlemen friends take you out for supper?"

  "Watch your mouth!" Alice stood up, pulling the coat out of the box. "You've no right to speak to me like that." She pushed her arms into the sleeves, trying on Gabrielle's new coat.

  "And why not? What are you to me?" Her voice wavered as she stared in disbelief at her mother. The nerve of the woman, trying on her new clothes!

  "I gave birth to you, girl."

  "And that was the end of your responsibility wasn't it?" Gabrielle said accusingly, coming to stand before Alice.

  "I can't believe you still blame me for that after all these years. Nice coat, did it come from Barker's?" She went to the gilded mirror that hung over the rosewood sidetable and stood sideways to gaze at her silhouette. "Is it my fault I couldn't abide that wilderness, that crude little cabin, those Indians? Your father and I just didn't get along. I was never meant to be a wife and mother, just not cut from the right cloth."

  "My father loved you," Gabrielle challenged.

  "Your father was like any other man. He took what he wanted from me, but he gave nothing in return." Alice fingered the ebony braid that ran along the cuffs of the coat.

  "That's not true. Papa wasn't like that; Alex isn't like that."

  "If you think so, it's only because that husband of yours hasn't shown his true colors yet."

  Gabrielle folded her arms across her chest. "Alex isn't my husband."

  Alice spun around, lifting a shaped eyebrow. "Oh, no?" Her mouth twitched in a smile. "I thought he introduced you as the Mrs. Alexander . . ."

  Gabrielle turned to present her back to her mother. "We're going to get married, just not until we get to Virginia. He's from Richmond."

  Alice's laughter filled the small parlor as she shrugged off the coat and dug into a hat box. "If he hasn't married you by now, my dear naive daughter, then he's not going to marry you."

  Gabrielle spun back around. "That's not true. We are going to be married. We just decided we'd wait until we reached Virginia." She tried to control her trembling hands. How was it that her mother always knew how to cut her to the quick?

  Alice gave an all-knowing nod, returning to the mirror. "I understand you deposited a large sum of gold with a broker yesterday." She removed her hat pins and began to try on her daughter's new bonnet.

  Gabrielle stared in disbelief. "How do you know? Who told you?" she demanded.

  Alice glanced up at her daughter through the reflection in the mirror. "The man I was with last night, Geoffrey, does business with several gold brokers. When I saw you dressed the way you were yesterday, I knew you'd come into money; I just didn't know how." She turned her head this way and that, trying to decide if she liked the hat. "I just asked Geoffrey to do some checking. He'd do anything for me. So would most of my customers."

  "Mother! Would you please stop trying on my clothes? Take them, take them all, just stop picking through everything."

  Alice turned around. "Why, thank you," she said sweetly, returning the hat to its box. "The coat, too?"

  "Take it," Gabrielle ordered through clenched teeth.

  "I certainly will. I mean there'll be plenty more where this came from, won't there? At least as long as your man keeps you."

  "Half of the gold is mine, Mother."

  "Smart girl. At least you'll have something when he moves on. Something to take back to those filthy dogs of yours." She put her own hat back on. "Did you say we were having refreshments?"

  "I think it's time you went."

  "What do you mean? We were having such a nice visit."

  Gabrielle stepped up to her mother. "Why didn't you come to Papa's funeral?"

  "It's not that I wasn't sorry he was dead—"

  "Just too busy, were you? Too busy with your customers," she demanded.

  "That's not true and you know it. Rouge and I came to an understanding several years back." She faced her daughter squarely. "I was always glad to see him."

  Gabrielle laughed bitterly. "Glad to take his money for your services."

  Alice raised her hand to slap her daughter's face, but Gabrielle caught it in midair. "Get out," she ordered. "Get out of my life and don't you ever come back. All of these years I felt guilty. Papa told me it wasn't my fault you left, but I didn't believe him." She lowered her mother's arm slowly, refusing to release her. "But you know Papa was right. You didn't care about us; you only cared about yourself. Once a whore, always a whore."

  Anger welled up in Alice LeBeau's face. "How dare you speak to me like that?" She jerked her arm free. "Look who's calling the kettle black. Living with a man, letting him buy you fancy things because you sleep with him." She yanked her gloves off the settee and thrust her hands into them. "What's the difference, tell me that? I take money; you accept a room in a hotel and a nice coat and hat."

  "Get out," Gabrielle shouted. "Get out of here!"

  Alice grabbed the hat box off the settee, heading for the door. "You'll regret this someday, Gabrielle. There'll come a time when you'll need someone. I know I haven't always been there for you, but I'm all you have."

  "Get out!" Gabrielle ordered, swinging open the paneled door to the hall.

  Alice moved unhurriedly through the door, Gabrielle's hat box under her arm. "Good day, daughter."

  Gabrielle slammed the door in response, then, spotting the traveling coat in the open box, she scooped it up off the settee. Yanking open the door again, she threw the box through the door. "You're forgetting something, Mother!" she shouted, then closed the door with a resounding bang.

  The shadows were lengthening into afternoon when Alex slipped the key in the lock of their hotel room door and stepped inside. "Gabrielle? Where are you?" He slid his hat on the table and went into the bedroom, a small box clutched in his hand. He spotted her laying facedown on the bed. "Gabrielle?" he said softly.

  "Yes?" Her voice was muffled by the pillow she rested on.

  "Are you all right?" He sat down on the corner of the bed and rolled her over. Her face was tear stained, her eyes red and swollen. "What's the matter, love?"

  She
sniffed, reaching for the handkerchief that lay beside her on the bed. Her hair had fallen from the neat chignon, her shirt waist was wrinkled from lying on the bed and one stocking had come loose from its garter. Her head ached, and her throat was sore from crying. "Everything."

  He stifled his desire to laugh. "Everything?" He reached to take her in his arms, but she resisted him. "The visit with your mother that bad?"

  She sniffed again, squeezing her eyes shut. "I was thinking, Alex. Maybe this isn't such a good idea. Maybe . . ." She blew her nose. "Maybe you should just take your share of the gold and go back to Richmond by yourself."

  "Gabrielle, what's wrong? What did your mother say to you to make you change your mind?" He got up off the bed to retrieve a face cloth and dip it in the washbowl on a stand near the bed. Sitting back down beside her, he wiped her face gently. "Tell me, Gabrielle."

  "She . . . she said—" Fresh tears streamed down her face. "Mother said I was naive. If . . . if you hadn't married me by now, you'd never marry me. She said I was no better than a whore myself. . . ."

  Alex cursed beneath his breath, drawing her into his arms. "That's what she said, and you believed her?" He brushed back her damp hair, kissing her forehead.

  She clung to him, swallowing against the rising lump in her throat. "I didn't want to, but maybe I am naive, I don't know. . . ."

  "Shhh," he hushed. "It's all right, now stop crying. It's not true." He dabbed at her swollen eyes with the facecloth. "I love you, Gabrielle. I've always loved you. Now get up and fix your hair." He set her on the bed and got up.

  "I don't want any supper."

  "We're not going to supper. We're going to put an end to this once and for all." He tugged at her hand, bringing her to her feet.

  She studied his clear blue eyes. "I don't understand."

  He brushed his lips against hers. "What's there to understand? Tuck in your shirt and find your shoes. We're getting married.''