Snowfire

by French, Colleen

  Sitting up, Gabrielle ran a hand through her hair. Warm, sticky blood oozed between her fingers, and she winced. Touching the wound lightly, she found a small cut beneath her hairline at her forehead. Lifting up her soaked skirts, she tore a piece of material from her chemise and dipped it in the river water, applying the compress to her head. Awful lot of blood for such a small cut, she mused, leaning back in the reeds that lined the shore. The funny thing was that all of that blood was probably what saved her life; it was apparently what had made her attackers think she was dead.

  Now that Gabrielle realized she was safe, her mind was suddenly flooded with disjointed thoughts. "My God," she whispered. "If Alexis had been with me, they'd have killed her, too!" She shuddered at the thought, drawing in her knees to rest her chin on them.

  I can't stay here in Virginia, she told herself. If I do, I'll be risking Alex's and Alexis's lives, too. Sooner or later Taylor is going to realize I wasn't killed, and then he'll send someone else after me. "Is that the only way we're going to escape him, Papa?" she asked aloud. "By bein' dead?" Tears ran down her cheeks. She didn't want to leave Alex or Alexis, but after all of the things Clarice had said and now this, she knew she had no other choice. Everything was suddenly too clear. She couldn't risk their lives for her own needs. She had to go back to Alaska, only this time it would have to be into the Yukon, or deeper into the interior, somewhere where Taylor would never find her. Better yet, she thought grimly, maybe I should just let him find me and put an end to the cat and mouse game. After all, what will life be now without Alex?

  Gabrielle fought back the tears that blinded her vision as she clutched her knees tightly, rocking to and fro. "Oh, Alex," she groaned. "I love you; I don't want to leave you. I wish there was another way. Maybe if I loved you less. . . ."

  Numb with disbelief, Gabrielle sat there on the bank until she grew numb with cold. "Guess I better be going, Papa," she said aloud, her teeth chattering. "I've got to be practical about this." If she was going to leave Virginia, she knew it would have to be soon. "I'll be on that morning train," she whispered. "But I'll need money and traveling clothes." Lifting the wet compress to her head one last time, the white cotton came away clean, and she knew the wound had stopped bleeding.

  Hugging her arms to her chest to ward off the chill, Gabrielle got to her feet and climbed up the bank. "I'll just leave . . . no farewells." She knew there would be no way to ever make Alex understand. If he did love her as he said, as she thought, he wouldn't let go. Then of course, if what Clarice said was true, he wouldn't stop her, and that would hurt more. No, it's better this way, she thought, better never to know, better to always believe he truly loved me.

  Shivering, Gabrielle pushed her way through the reeds in search of the path that would lead back to her carriage. Once on the path, she ignored the occasional stare, hurrying to the horses and carriage she'd left at the hitching post. Go ahead and stare now, she thought bitterly. Where were you when those men were trying to drown me?

  Reaching the carriage, Gabrielle untied the horses and was off, headed toward Alex's home, an old blanket wrapped around her for warmth. She had to change her clothes before she caught her death, but she was hoping she could sneak in and out before anyone really noticed her. Of course, who would notice? Alex would be busy as always, and Margaret gave her no mind except to be pleasant when they ran into each other in the downstairs hall.

  In the carriage house, Gabrielle leaped to the ground as a newly-hired stable boy caught the harness. "Good lordy, what happen to you, Mrs. Alexander?" His eyes grew wide with a mixture of shock and concern.

  Gabrielle managed a quick smile. "Fell in the river, Roy. Silly wasn't it?" She brushed self-consciously at her skirts like she'd seen the other women do. "But hold the carriage, I'm just going to run and change, and then I'll be going into town."

  "Shopping, ma'am?"

  She turned to go. "You could say that."

  Slipping inside the front door, Gabrielle ignored the two men putting up wallpaper in the entryway. Going up the front steps, she hurried down the hallway. Relieved that no one had seen her, she rested her hand on the doorknob of her bedchamber.

  Just then, Alexis's door swung open. "Gabrielle?"

  Gabrielle jumped, pressing her hand to her thudding heart. She laughed nervously. "You scared me, Alexis."

  "Sorry." Then the little girl gasped. "What happened to you? I thought Papa said no more swimmin' this year."

  Gabrielle tugged on one of Alexis's curls. "I fell in the river; I didn't go swimming, silly goose." She opened her bedroom door and Alexis followed at her heels.

  "You went down to the river without me?" She went to perch herself on the bed. "I thought you said I could go fishing again with you."

  Gabrielle began to peel off her wet clothing. "I didn't go fishing."

  "Then what were you doin' at the river? Aunt Clarice was lookin' for you. I hid behind the chair in the parlor 'til she went away."

  Gabrielle reached for a gown of soft grey flannel and a dry chemise. "I was at the river because . . ." She sighed not having the energy to come up with a decent lie. "Why don't you go see your papa? I'm sure he'd like your company."

  Alexis fussed with the ribbon on the bodice of her frock. "I'd rather go with you."

  Gabrielle's head snapped up. "Go? Go where?"

  She shrugged. "Wherever you're goin'. I saw you from my window. The carriage is still hitched waitin' for you."

  "You can't go with me, Alexis." Gabrielle shook her head. "You stay here with your papa. I want you to be with him."

  Alexis stuck out her lower lip. "But I want to be with you."

  "You can't be with me, Alexis," Gabrielle snapped. "Now go on!"

  Alex's daughter got up quietly and crossed the room, her high-button shoes tapping on the hardwood floor.

  Gabrielle watched her for a moment, and then put out her arms to her. "I'm sorry, Alexis. Come here." Gabrielle got down on one knee. "Just because you can't always have what you want, doesn't mean someone doesn't love you." Gabrielle fought back the tears that threatened to flow as Alexis came to her. Wrapping her arms around the child's slight form, she hugged her tight.

  "I'm sorry," Alexis whispered. "I didn't mean to make you mad at me."

  "I'm not mad at you, but I'm not your mother." A lump rose in Gabrielle's throat. "Alex is your papa, and the two of you have a lot to catch up on. A papa should be important to a little girl. I told you, he loves you very much."

  "Do you have a papa?" Alexis regarded Gabrielle with Alex's blue eyes.

  "He's dead now, but when I was your age, he was the most important person in the whole world to me." Gabrielle smiled sadly. "Now go on and be a good girl, and I'll see you this afternoon, all right?"

  "All right." Alexis went to the door.

  "And Alexis, could you please not tell your papa about me fallin' in the river?"

  The little girl nodded her head and disappeared through the door.

  With a heavy sigh, Gabrielle finished dressing and went to the mirror to brush out her wet, tangled hair. She stared at her reflection, barely recognizing herself. Who was this woman with the rich brown hair below her shoulder and a sullen mouth? Taking a bit of black ribbon, she tied back the wet mass and hurriedly left the room.

  Her decision made to leave Richmond and Alex, Gabrielle moved mechanically, yet methodically. She went to the bank and withdrew sufficient money to get her back to Seattle and to buy supplies and build a new cabin, leaving the remainder. It was for Alex; he deserved it. Then she went to the old general store the crippled man owned and bought a pair of men's pants, a simple shirt and a wool coat. On impulse she bought a red flannel hat with a wide brim, much like the one that had burned in her cabin. Then she returned to Alex's home. She moved through the evening meal like a sleepwalker, smiling, speaking when spoken to, trying to behave as if nothing was wrong, as if this was not the last night she would ever spend with her husband.

  After the meal, han
d in hand, Alex and Gabrielle led Alexis upstairs and tucked her into bed. Closing her door quietly, Alex wrapped an arm around Gabrielle's waist, nuzzling her neck. "I thought we could go to bed early," he murmured.

  Gabrielle's eyes drifted shut as she inhaled his familiar masculine scent. Her fingers brushed the nape of his neck, and she tried to force to memory the feel of his lips against her skin. "That would be nice." Her voice was barely a whisper.

  "You all right?" He lifted her chin, studying her dark eyes.

  Gabrielle nodded dumbly, afraid to speak for fear she would burst into tears. "Just tired," she managed. Her voice caught in her throat, and she leaned to rest her head on his shoulder. Even in the shadows of the dark passageway, his blue-grey eyes seemed to bore into her very soul. Would his eyes haunt her forever, or would their memory be a comfort to her during the cold winters to come?

  Alex stroked the back of her head, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You go on. I have something to finish in the library and then I'll be up. I won't be long; I promise." Brushing his lips against hers, he released her and went down the hall.

  Wearily, Gabrielle entered her bedchamber and began to undress. Pulling a long white flannel nightgown over her head, she splashed water from the wash bowl on her face and climbed into bed, turning down the lamp. Now that her mind was made up, she refused to let herself reconsider. She wouldn't allow herself to be so selfish as to risk Alex's and Alexis's lives for her own needs. She had lived without Alex before; she could do it again.

  She had decided she would sleep a few hours, and then, before dawn she would get up and go. By the time Alex awoke and became concerned about her where-abouts the train would be ready to depart. She had considered leaving him a note of explanation, but she didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to make him understand that whether he loved her or not, their marriage was never meant to be. She knew the LeBeaus were loners, and she should have left it that way. She should never have permitted herself to believe she and Alex could ever be happy together. It was his own fault she was in this mess to begin with, and now it was up to her to right it.

  When Alex came to bed a short time later, Gabrielle was still awake, waiting for him. Undressing quietly, he turned out the lamp and slipped in beside her, reaching out to take her in his arms. "What's this?" he whispered. "Since when have you taken to wearing nightgowns to bed? Take it off."

  She rolled over to face him. "I don't feel like it, Alex."

  He laughed, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. "I just want to hold you. We don't have to make love; I just want to feel you against me." He stroked her arm through the soft material. "Come on," he coaxed.

  "All right," she whispered. "I could use some holdin'."

  Alex watched her sit up and pull the gown over her head. "You sure you're all right?" he asked. "You've been acting so odd tonight."

  "I'm fine. I told you I'm just tired." She laid back down with her back to him, and he put his arm around her. "Maybe fighting off a cold in my chest or something," she added.

  "You're not . . . not pregnant are you?" he asked quietly.

  She shook her head. If only I was, she thought. Then I could take a part of him with me. "No, Alex. I'm not pregnant."

  "Would you like to be?" he asked hesitantly. They had never really discussed children. Alex had assumed it was a part of marriage. He was actually surprised that she wasn't with child yet.

  "Alex . . . could we—" Her voice caught in her throat. "I'm really tired. Can we talk about it tomorrow?" Her chest ached with the pain of her breaking heart. If he didn't shut up, he was going to make her cry, and then what would she say? What explanation would she give?

  "All right." He stretched out, pressing his lean body against hers. He knew something was wrong, but it was obvious she didn't want to talk about it tonight. Maybe tomorrow, he thought to himself. Maybe I'll take the day off from work on the house, leave Alexis with Mother and the two of us will go somewhere for the day. She's just feeling neglected, that's all. Snuggling closer, he closed his eyes. "Good-night, Gabrielle. I love you."

  "Good-night," she answered in a voice that was barely audible. "I love you."

  There nestled in Alex's arms, the sound of his breathing and the feel of his arm tight around her waist comforted her, and finally she fell asleep.

  The case clock in the upstairs hallway chimed four as Gabrielle slipped quietly out of her bedroom, a cloth satchel containing her money and her rag doll in her hand. There had been no tearful farewells to Alex. She had kissed his lips, smiling sadly over his sleeping face and then had dressed and gone. If she allowed herself to falter, she knew she'd never be able to accomplish what had to be done. Moving silently across the hall, she went into Alexis's room and kissed her good-bye and then made her way down the front steps.

  Cloth satchel in hand, Gabrielle made her way out of the house and across the lawn. It would be a long walk to town, but she didn't want to take the carriage and then have to leave the horses tied at the train station until Alex finally found them. Besides, she told herself, going down the driveway, the walk will do me good.

  Just then, one of the hound puppies came from behind a tree, racing after Gabrielle, yipping with pleasure at having found a human companion.

  "Shhh," Gabrielle whispered, kneeling in the grass. "You'll wake 'em all up." She scratched the brown puppy behind his spotted ear and then deposited him on the grass. "Now you stay," she ordered, the minute she walked away, the puppy came bounding after her.

  Gabrielle tried the technique again, this time offering the pup a piece of ham from the slices she carried in her bag. The puppy ate the meat and then came after her again, howling as it made its way down the tree-line drive.

  Laughing at the little dog's antics, Gabrielle scooped him into her arms, cuddling him inside her wool coat. "What am I going to do with you?" she murmured. For a moment she stood in indecision; then dropping her bag on the lawn, she made her way back up to the house and in the front door.

  Going quietly up the steps, Gabrielle carried the little brown pup into Alexis's room and lifted the covers, depositing him beside the sleeping child. The puppy turned three times and then laid down, warm beneath the quilts. With one last glance at Alex's daughter, she left the house, refusing to look back. "Good-bye, Alex," she whispered as she went down the lane. "I love you."

  Alex pounded his fist against the wooden door of Clarice's townhouse. "Clarice, answer this door!" he ordered through clenched teeth.

  The door swung open. "Jefferson, how nice of you to call." Clarice smiled sweetly.

  He pushed his way in the door. "Where is she?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  He knotted his fists at his sides, his face red with anger. "Gabrielle, where is she?"

  "How should I know?" Clarice replied indignantly. She crossed her arms over her bosom.

  Alex took a step forward, raising his fist to point a finger. "Don't play stupid with me, dear sister. I haven't the time. Now tell me where she's gone."

  Clarice took a step back, intimidated by the threat in her brother's voice. "Jefferson, I assure you I—"

  "My name is Alex. It's been Alex since I was a child so don't you ever call me Jefferson again." His stormy grey eyes narrowed. "Now you tell me where my wife's gone or so help me God, Clarice, I'll strike you!"

  "I . . . I don't know." Her voice shook with sudden fear. She'd never seen her brother so volatile.

  "Alexis told me you had words with Gabrielle yesterday," he accused. It was nearly noon and he was frantic. No one had seen Gabrielle since she went to bed last night, and he feared something terrible had happened. None of her clothes were missing; the horses were all in their stables. She had just disappeared. He was terrified that Taylor or one of his men had gotten to her.

  "What does a child know?" Clarice asked, trying to gain her composure. She couldn't believe it! The little tart had actually taken her advice.

  "I knew there was something wrong wit
h Gabrielle yesterday; I just didn't know what. Now tell me what happened."

  "She's gone," Clarice blurted out.

  "Gone? Gone where?" Alex swallowed against the rising fear in his throat.

  "Back where she belongs, I would guess. Some dockside Ladies' House maybe?"

  Alex raised his hand to strike his middle-aged sister, but caught himself in midair. "Are you so selfish that you won't allow me just a little happiness?" he asked bitterly.

  Clarice cringed, backing up in the small entryway until her back was against the papered wall. "Don't be foolish. She'll ruin your life. She's nothing but a—"

  "She's my wife!" he shouted. "Tell me what you know, now!" His angry, masculine voice echoed in the high-ceilinged hall.

  Clarice shrugged. "I sent her packing. I told her you didn't love her, that you only wanted her gold . . ."

  Alex's face fell.

  "I told her we knew the sordid truth of her past. I told her she'd ruin your life and Alexis's if she stayed." She straightened her posture. "I told her the truth."

  Alex spun around, his back to his sister. He could feel the rage bubbling up inside him, threatening to spill over. His chest ached for the pain Gabrielle must have experienced from his sister's words. "I can't believe you did it, Clarice. I can't believe it," he whispered.

  "It was only for your own good. For Alexis's."

  Alex turned slowly around, scrutinizing her pale face. "You know, I actually believe you." He shook his head sadly. "And I'm sorry for you. But why? I told you I loved her. I told you she made me happy."

  "She was nothing like Amber—"

  "I didn't want another wife like Amber!"