Her life would be full here. She had her children. She had Silverpines. It would be enough.
On the first day of the year, in the year of our Lord, nineteen hundred, Guinevere Montgomery, wife of Nicander Montgomery died.
The preacher’s words that day, three months ago, echoed in Nic’s mind as they stood at the grave site in Wickwell Springs. Many citizens of the Springs came to show their support.
Nic had stood at his wife’s grave and felt a hollow pit form in his body. His wife had died in his arms, her short life extinguished forever with the closing of her eyes. Her face had never looked so peaceful as it did in repose.
Though they had known she would die, it still ripped him in two.
The Lord had graciously allowed her to die in her sleep. The brain tumor, which had been discovered too late for any medical professional to do anything about it, having affected his wife’s well-being. Dr. Wu Li believed the tumor had been the reason for his wife’s erratic behavior as well as her mood swings.
“Nic?”
He shuddered and came out of his thoughts. “What is it, Eustacia?”
“Are you ready to go?”
She pushed open the door to the room that had been designated as Guinevere’s for the duration of her stay. This particular asylum in Wickwell Springs boasted superior facilities where the inmates were cosseted by comfort. When he heard from Eulalia and Eustacia about the atrocities their mother had suffered in one of these institutions he’d realized how fortunate he’d been.
“No, I’m not ready, Eustacia.”
“You miss her, don’t you?”
“Miss who?” he asked quietly. His wife, the woman who had attacked him again a month before her death, her eyes filled with hate and a kind of manic irrationality? He didn’t miss that woman. But he did miss the one who, several days before her death, gave him the sweetest gift any man could ever want.
A moment of clarity. When the erratic moods and the murderous intent faded away and he beheld the woman he’d fallen in love with six years ago.
“Lolly,” Eustacia answered.
The skin between his shoulder blades tightened. “Why would I miss her?”
“Because you love her,” Eustacia stated bluntly. “Not just her, but the children, too.”
Nic thought of Eulalia. Yes, he did miss her. As much as he missed the woman who had existed as his wife before her accident, he missed Eulalia.
“But I can’t go back to Silverpines.”
“You can,” Eustacia answered. “You can go back and begin a new life with my sister.”
Something skittered along his nerves ending. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” He didn’t finish.
In all honesty, he had every reason to go back to Silverpines. The marshal and the mayor’s offer had lingered in his mind for a long while. He could be the new fire chief of a fire brigade for the town. Educate its citizens. Once the developer came, perhaps he could aid the gentleman with his own ideas.
But he knew why he couldn’t go back to Silverpines.
Nic sighed. “I just can’t.”
Eustacia came further into the room and stood in front of him. “Nic, you deserve to be happy just like anyone else. You were happy with Guinevere before her accident. Now you can be happy again.”
“I don’t deserve it,” he said quietly.
“Why not?”
“I—I—”
“Because you kissed my sister last year?”
Nic winced. “Yes.”
For so long he hadn’t regretted the kiss, but these last months and moments with his wife had given him a new perspective. With that perspective came the regret that had eluded him for so long. No one should feel comfortable about doing something wrong. As a married man, no matter what, he had no business kissing Eulalia.
“Need I remind you that Guinevere had—”
“That doesn’t matter,” he interjected. “She wasn’t in her right mind.”
“And neither were you and Lolly.”
Nic blinked. “Huh?”
Eustacia smiled a little sadly. “Grief can also make people do strange things.”
“I don’t understand.”
She turned away from him and went over to the small window in the room. “My sister had just lost her husband, Nic. She was grieving. Your wife was placed in an asylum after she almost killed you. Again, I say to you, grief makes us do strange things.”
Her voice lowered. “Josiah’s death affected me just as much as it did Lolly. Of course, I pretended to not let it matter. I couldn’t let my sister know how devastated I was, particularly when I supposedly hated him so much. Further, it didn’t help that Josiah had practically thrown both of you to the other by extracting your promises.”
Nic sighed. “I can’t go back.”
Eustacia came toward him once more. “Tell me something, Nic. What if you were the one with the unknown accident? The one that afflicted Guinevere. What if you, not in your right mind, had done the things she’d done? What if you were the one gone and she the one left behind, what would you want for her?”
“I know what you’re trying to say, Eustacia, but this is different.”
“Answer the question, Nic. What would you want for Guinevere?”
His mind traveled back to the two days before his wife passed away. How cognizant she’d been, reminiscent of the day he’d first met her. The smile on her face and the kiss they shared, the first kiss he’d shared with his wife in…he didn’t know how long.
“Be happy, Nic,” Guinevere had said, her green eyes soft like moss. “I want you to be happy like you used to be.”
“I’d want her to be happy, Eustacia.” A sharp gasp escaped his throat as the tears he’d held at bay for so long trailed down his face. “I’d want her to be happy, Eustacia,” he’d moaned, falling to his knees as sorrow for his wife washed over him like a cascading wave. “She wanted me to be happy.”
Eustacia came and knelt on the floor. “Nic, won’t my sister make you happy? Won’t my niece and my nephew, make you happy? I’m starting to understand why Josiah said what he did. He wanted Lolly to be happy and he knew, as far as he could tell, that you would be the best person to do that.”
“Maybe so.” Nic wiped the tears from his eyes. “Maybe so.”
“Go back to Silverpines, Nic. Go back and make it your home. From what Lolly has told me, so many others have gone there and rebuilt their lives and established new ones. You can, too.”
Hope swelled in his chest. Did he dare to hope that…?
“What about you? Are you coming back to Silverpines?”
A peculiar look came over her face. In their time together as she helped to care for Guinevere, he’d come to know something of her moods and thoughts, but she still kept most of herself hidden.
“Maybe,” she said after a time of silence. “I’ll let you know. Wickwell Springs, for all of its peculiarities and strangeness, has grown on me.”
“But Eulalia and the children are in Silverpines.”
She smiled, the forlorn look disappearing. “Wickwell Springs isn’t that far away. I’ll let you know when I plan on returning. But, you can reach me here if I need to come back…for anything special.”
The twinkle in her eye made him blush. “I doubt I would do anything hasty.”
“We’ll see, Nic. We’ll see.”
CHAPTER TEN
“And so, today we honor those we have lost. May their memories live on in each and every one of us as we bring Silverpines back to its former glory,” Mayor Garrison finished his speech, to great applause.
Eulalia swiped at the tears on her face as she and the children stood before the grandstand. Although many others had participating in decorating the grandstand with paper chains and pictures of the men, women, and children lost in the past years, she only had eyes for two paperchains and a picture of Josiah.
It was an old picture, almost five or six years ago. He stood, uns
miling, dressed in his lumberjack clothes and posing with his ax. His face had a beard and his eyes stared out from it with a little gleam of amusement. Around his picture, the children’s paper chains had been affixed, creating a beautiful image which she felt would be embedded in her mind forever.
“I miss Papa, Mama,” Tabitha said, snuggling closer. “But he’s in Heaven now.”
“Yes. Yes, he is.”
“Eulalia.”
She stiffened in shock but the children whirled around and screamed in unison. “Uncle Nic!”
They tore away from her and ran behind her. Whirling around, she watched as they launched themselves into Nicander’s arms. He grabbed them easily.
Seeing his face again was like drinking water in the desert. Eating manna from heaven. She couldn’t keep the smile and joy from showing even if she tried.
His long thick blond hair gleaming in the sunlight. His bright eyes gazing at her with a look she could barely believe, even as he accepted the exuberant welcome of Tabitha and Winston.
Although still as broad as she remembered, he had a leaner look to him. A bit of gauntness about his eyes and cheekbones. A crease interrupted the smooth expanse of his brow.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” Winston said, scrambling down from the hold. “Mama said we can pray and pray. And the Lord answered our prayer.”
“I’m glad to be back, you monkeys.” Nicander ruffled Winston’s hair and then gave a smacking kiss on Tabitha’s cheek before setting her down. “Eulalia, it’s good to see you.”
She told her heart to stop jumping at the sight of him. “It’s good to see you too, Nicander. How is Guinevere?”
A slight shadow crossed over his face, but he squatted down and said to the children. “Remember I said I may bring something back?”
“You got a present for us!” Tabitha clapped her hands excitedly.
“I don’t know,” he replied with mock uncertainty. “I wonder, what could be in that bag over there next to that tree?”
The children gasped and dashed for the tree. Nicander straightened back up to his tall height and focused back on her again.
“Nicander? Where’s Guinevere?”
He thrust his hair back again with his hands. “She’s keeping Josiah company now.”
Eulalia gasped, covering her mouth. “Oh Nicander. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m still trying to get used to being a widower, Eulalia.” He came closer to her. “Despite everything, she was my wife. And I loved her.”
Her tears welled up for him. “Nicander.” She reached out and rested her hand on his shoulders. “When?”
“January 1st.”
“Oh, Nicander.”
Without thinking, she reached out and wrapped his large frame in her arms. “Was it peaceful?”
“In her sleep.” His warm breath brushed against her temple.
“I’m glad,” she said, meaning it. She would never wish such a violent death like Josiah had suffered on anyone else. “I wish I could have been there with you. Just to be a support to you.”
He rubbed her arms and then pulled himself away from her embrace. “In a way, you were there. Eustacia stayed with me in Wickwell Springs.”
Her mouth dropped open. “My sister?”
“She did. We cleared the air between us. I can honestly say, she made everything better for me. I couldn’t have gotten by the past few months without her there.”
“I’d wondered where she’d gone. She’d come back for the holidays and stayed, but then she ran off again before the first of the year. I hadn’t seen her. Nor did I know she was with you.”
The fact that Eustacia had neglected to tell her she knew of Nicander’s whereabouts didn’t sit well. But maybe her sister knew it was better for her not to know.
“Mama, look at what Uncle Nic got us!” The children screeched as they raced back to where she and Nicander stood.
For the next while, she had no opportunity to talk to Nicander alone. The memorial picnic was spread out and tables laden with food groaned near to capacity. Everyone visited saying hello and enjoying the day of remembrance.
Tabitha leapt up from the blanket while they finished dessert. “There he is.”
“There who is?” Eulalia asked, wiping the last crumb of peach cobbler.
“My new friend!”
Eulalia followed her daughter’s pointing finger to see the young Chinese boy hanging on the fringes of the celebration. He looked nervous as his eyes darted around, but when he saw Tabitha, Eulalia could see him visibly relax and a shy smile broadened his face.
“May I go play with him, Mama?”
Eulalia exchanged glances with Nicander. He gave her a look as if to tell her it was her decision.
“Go ahead,” she told her daughter. “But stay where I can see you.”
Tabitha kissed her on the cheek, hugged Nicander and then dashed away, her hair flying behind her as she rushed off to meet the young boy.
“I hope I’m doing the right thing,” she whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“Tabitha’s association with the young boy.” She watched as the two went off to play under a nearby tree.
“Do you disapprove because he’s Chinese?”
“Of course not,” she waved it away dismissively. “It’s just that, I know how my daughter is. Once she attaches to someone, it will be the very devil to get her to stop.”
“The young boy doesn’t look bothered by her. If he finds her half as fascinating as her mother, then he wouldn’t want to leave her side.”
Eulalia’s head whipped to him. “Nicander.”
“Before Guinevere died, there were days where she had moments of clarity. Lucidity. It was during one of these times that I told her how I had kissed you. And I asked for her forgiveness.”
She gulped. “Did she give it to you?”
“No, she didn’t give it to me. Not in the way you think anyway.”
Eulalia frowned. “What do you mean?”
Nicander toyed with the edge of the blanket. “Guinevere said she’d forgive me if I can forgive her for what she did.”
“You mean…” she swallowed and then glanced away from his face. “Lancelot.”
“Yes. Lancelot.”
His gaze wandered over to where Tabitha and the Chinese boy played with each other. “I told her that I did forgive her.”
Eulalia glanced back at him. “Did you mean it?”
H nodded. “Yes, I did. I know that it wasn’t her fault for her mood changes and behaviors. And she said she’d forgive me, too.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Eulalia, I need to tell you something.” His large hand reached out and grabbed her own. “It’s important that you know.”
“What is it, Nicander?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
“I love you.”
Her eyes widened at the frankness of his statement and from the deep, penetrating look in his eyes. “Is that so?”
“Yes. I’m not sure when it happened. But over the course of a year, since my best friend’s death. My love for you has grown stronger. This doesn’t mean that I didn’t love Guinevere. Far from it. I will probably love her forever. Just like you will love Josiah, too.”
“Of course.”
“My question is this: do you love me, Eulalia? Or, maybe, I should be asking, could you ever love me?”
“Nicander, how can any woman not love you?” She leaned toward him. “You are a man of strength, who cared so much about me and my children. You came to me when Josiah’s death hit me the hardest. You were there to help me pick up the pieces of my life when they lay about me.”
Uncaring who was watching them, she lifted her hand and caressed the rough scruff of his face. “Even more than that, you honored a woman who had become sick. Yes, you kissed me at a weak moment, but you did not abandon her. I’m sure there were times when you wanted to. But you never left her alone. Not for long.”
“Eulalia I�
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“I love you, too, Nicander.” She smiled, feeling tears well in her eyes. “But now that we have admitted that to each other, what does it mean?”
He took her hand as it rested upon his face and kissed the inner palm. “I can’t do anything about this love I have for you.”
Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. “I see.”
“No, you don’t see, Eulalia. I want to be with you and the children forever. Guinevere, before she died, told me to be happy. She wanted me to be happy. And we both know Josiah wanted us to be together. But I think it’s too soon for either of us to do anything about it. I’ve just lost my wife, and you’re still grieving your husband.”
“Nicander—”
“Trust me. I want to be able to court you and woo you as I’d like to.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “So the next time I kiss you, it won’t be with guilt.”
She didn’t need to wait. She knew she wanted Nicander by her side for always and always. But maybe there was some logic in waiting until a decent time had passed.
“All right, Nicander. I’ll wait for you. Hopefully, you won’t have me wait for long.”
Six days later…
Nic jerked upright in the bed, his mind pushing away the grogginess of sleep. What had awakened him?
The ringing of the bell. The smell of smoke.
Fire!
Leaping up from the bed in the Inn, he thrust on his clothes with quick efficient movements which had him dressed in less than a minute. Yanking the door open, he took the stairs two by two until he came to the lobby where Mr. and Mrs. Karson stood in their night wear, frantic, frightened looks on their faces.
“You need to evacuate the building now,” he ordered in no uncertain terms. “We don’t know where the source of the fire is and we need to get people out of here.”
He shook his head. He’d told the elders of the town council about the vulnerability of the town, with all the buildings made out of wood. Why hadn’t they listened?
He pushed out the door, his eyes squinting at the amount of smoke that filled the air. It had a strange smell to it, one he couldn’t quite place but that was irrelevant right now. He had to minimize the damage to the town.
Wanted- Fire Chief Page 9