Under the Moon Gate

by Marilyn Baron

  Momentarily startled by the harsh noise, Friederich turned toward the kitchen, and Patience saw her opportunity. She lifted the firearm from the pocket of her robe and leveled it at him, stepping back a few inches to take aim. He sensed the movement and swerved.

  Her hands shook, but she steadied them.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will,” she threatened. “Drop the knife and step back.”

  She heard Nathaniel’s scooter in the driveway. Her heart beat faster, but she didn’t turn away. The timer buzzer was ringing in her ears. Nathaniel has a key, she thought. He’ll come in any moment. She didn’t want him involved or hurt in any way. This was her mess to clean up.

  “Patience,” he was calling out frantically. He must have seen an extra scooter in the driveway and known she was in trouble. “Are you all right? Are you in there?” She heard the front door lock open, and suddenly he was bounding over furniture, knocking over tables to get to her.

  “Where are you? Patience, don’t you hear the buzzer? The dinner is burning. I…” He hesitated and froze when he came to the open study door and saw her weapon aimed at the intruder.

  Friedrich took advantage of Nathaniel’s hesitation to pull him in by his neck. He swung Nathaniel around and used him as a shield between himself and Patience. Friederich was much older, but his body was thicker than Nathaniel’s lean one. Nathaniel tried to wrestle the intruder to the ground, but Friederich overpowered him.

  As he lashed out, a flash of light on the corner of the end table caught Nathaniel’s attention. The golden glow was enhanced by the lamplight. Nathaniel grabbed the heavy gold bar, raised it, and smashed it across the side of Friederich’s head. Friederich went down like a stone. Nathaniel got up, rubbed his neck where Friederich had grabbed him, and started toward Patience.

  A hand grabbed his shin and pulled him down. He tried to escape Friederich’s grasp, but the man’s hand crushed his foot. Friederich rose and dragged Nathaniel up with him into a standing position, pressing his blade against Nathaniel’s throat.

  “Nathaniel!” Patience screamed. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, did he hurt you?” Nathaniel seethed, furious at being bested by an old man, but more frightened for Patience. “You’re bleeding.”

  “No.” The breath hissed out of Patience’s body. “It’s nothing.” She tried to hold the gun steady, but her hand shook. How could she shoot the man with Nathaniel in the way? That changed everything. In that moment, she hesitated.

  “Drop the gun unless you want a repeat performance of your grandfather,” Friederich called out. “I will enjoy killing him slowly, right in front of you. You will have to watch another man you love die.”

  Patience swayed, remembering all the blood gushing out of her grandfather’s body.

  “Shoot, Patience,” Nathaniel ordered, trying to get her to focus again. He didn’t care a thing for himself. He had to make sure she was safe.

  “Nathaniel, I can’t. I might hit you. He killed my grandfather.”

  Nathaniel tried to struggle again, but Friederich gave him a shallow cut with the knife and drew blood. Patience focused on the blood and knew with certainty that the man would kill Nathaniel, would kill them both, if she didn’t take action right now. The time had come to face her fears and wake up from her nightmare.

  Patience turned toward the man, took a deep, calming breath and placed both hands on the gun to steady the weapon and herself.

  “Friederich,” Patience warned deliberately above the jarring din of the kitchen buzzer and the frantic beat of the music. “Put down the knife and let Nathaniel go or I will be forced to shoot you.”

  Friederich laughed madly, doubting her resolve. Patience looked at Nathaniel and signaled, inclining her head to one side. “I think I will kill him now,” Friederich said, with a wild look in his eye. “How much does he mean to you?”

  Patience took another deep breath. Everything, she realized, and her eyes signaled that message to Nathaniel, but she said nothing and continued to focus on her grandfather’s killer. There was a rapid movement in front of her as Friederich raised his knife to plunge it into Nathaniel’s flesh. She was convinced he would follow through this time.

  “Now, Nathaniel!” Patience screamed.

  Nathaniel twisted away as she took careful aim for the center of her uncle’s chest, found her mark, and pulled the trigger. Friederich’s grip on Nathaniel slowly loosened. His face registered surprise, then pain, before he fell. His body lay lifeless on the Oriental rug, blood flowing everywhere, spoiling the airy yellow pattern.

  Patience felt the blood rush to her own head and fought with everything she had to keep from collapsing.

  Nathaniel ran to her and took her in his arms.

  “Patience, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. What about you?” she demanded desperately. “Are you hurt?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said, touching his shoulder. His hand came away with blood on it.

  With one hand, Patience removed the belt from her terrycloth robe and pressed it to Nathaniel’s wound. Within seconds, it was soaked with his blood.

  “Sit down, and I’ll call the police and straighten this whole thing out,” Patience said, keeping pressure on Nathaniel’s wound. Nathaniel managed to unlock the death grip she had on the weapon and pry the gun loose from her fingers, placing it on the desk. She dialed the emergency numbers.

  Then she smelled the burning roast. “We’d better move into the kitchen. I need to shut off the oven and that incessant buzzer.” Before they moved, she picked up the faded picture of Emilie and her grandfather.

  “Who was he?” Nathaniel prodded, looking at the body, as Patience supported him while they walked together into the kitchen. “Did he say? Was he your grandfather’s associate? Was he Nighthawk?”

  “He was my uncle, my grandfather’s son from Emilie.”

  Nathaniel’s face mirrored his surprise. “Your grandfather had a son with the girl in the picture, the girl in the garden in Dresden?”

  “Yes, that’s right. A son he never knew about.” Patience showed Nathaniel the picture. “You see?”

  Nathaniel took the picture from her, stared at it again, tucked it back in the diary, and closed the desk drawer.

  “He was going to kill us, both of us, after we dug up the gold, and then bury us in the garden,” Patience said, holding up the bag her uncle had brought with him. “He came for this. The money and the gold. And he threatened to expose my grandfather. He was going to kill you, Nathaniel. I couldn’t let him kill you.”

  “I know, sweetheart,” he said, stroking her hair as they walked back into the study. “You’re still trembling.”

  “Nathaniel, I shot my own uncle. His name was Friederich.” Patience bent down, stepping in the pool of blood with her bare feet to feel for a pulse. Maybe, maybe he was still breathing. Maybe she could revive him somehow.

  But he was already cold. The little boy from Dresden could not be saved.

  “He’s gone, Patience,” Nathaniel said, gently. “You can see that he is.”

  Patience touched Friederich’s forehead lovingly, brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen over his face. “He looks exactly like my grandfather, Nathaniel,” she said absently. “I could have loved him. I would have. My grandfather would have welcomed him into our lives, into our family, opened up his heart for him, if he had been given the chance. I miss my grandfather. I miss him so much.”

  “I know you do,” Nathaniel said. With his good arm he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. “I wonder what ever happened to Nighthawk?”

  “You don’t think my grandfather killed him, do you?” Patience asked quietly, afraid to hear the answer.

  “It’s possible. He would have done anything to protect you and your grandmother. You must know that by now. But maybe he just disappeared mysteriously from the island after the war.

  “We know he spoke to your grandfather after the war about the missing documents.
We know he exacted payments for them. But I got the sense that your grandfather thought this latest attempt at blackmail was Nighthawk’s doing. So he must have thought Nighthawk was still alive. From what you’ve told me, he never knew about his son.

  “A man like Nighthawk collected enemies. I don’t think we have to worry about him anymore. One way or another, he’s probably dead by now. It’s been too long. Surely someone has already dealt with him. He got what he deserved.”

  Patience shivered, thinking about how difficult the situation and the gun would be to explain to the authorities.

  “You’re just in shock now,” Nathaniel said, wrapping his arm tighter around Patience. “He was a burglar, a drifter, Patience,” Nathaniel prompted. “He came to rob the house, he threatened your life and you wrestled with him and shot him with his own gun. Isn’t that how it happened?”

  Patience shook her head. “You want me to lie to the police?”

  “I want you to go lie down in the bedroom,” Nathaniel instructed gently. “I will handle the police.”

  “No, Nathaniel. It’s time I started facing life again. We’ll handle this together.”

  But she let him comfort her, keep her body pressed close against his, and kiss her. She was cold, so cold. She had taken a man’s life. Her uncle’s life. How much different was she, really, from her grandfather?

  Chapter 31

  The police and the doctor were gone and Patience, after dressing, finally felt warm again. Nathaniel had built a roaring fire, and they huddled closely together under a quilt on the couch in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames.

  They had eaten the dinner she cooked after all. Nathaniel couldn’t stop talking about how good it was. Patience knew she had ruined the meal. The meat was burnt and tough, the vegetables overcooked, and the potatoes raw. But he didn’t complain. In fact, he ate every bite on his plate. He hadn’t stopped to get the wine, his pretense for going into town, so they drank some liquor from her grandfather’s cabinet. It felt warm going down and loosened her inhibitions.

  They talked about everything, ignoring only what had just gone on in the study. They spoke of his life, hers, nothing in particular, just enjoyed each other’s company. Being together was enough.

  “Tell me about your family, Nathaniel,” Patience prompted.

  “The Morgan men made their mark on Virginia,” Nathaniel said proudly. “They were among the leaders of Colonial Virginia. My ancestors were former governors, statesmen, successful businessmen. They devoted themselves entirely to their work and to Virginia.

  “As a consequence, loveless marriages are a long tradition in my family. The Morgans grew tobacco, but they were best at cultivating bad marriages. The Morgan men don’t have any trouble getting women…just keeping them.”

  “Then maybe the Morgan men are marrying the wrong kind of women,” Patience pointed out. “Tell me about your home, Nathaniel,” she urged wistfully.

  “Fair Winds is a large, historic plantation along the James River corridor, in the southeast part of Virginia, between the coast and Greater Richmond,” Nathaniel explained. “We have access to the ocean, which is important. There were always sailors in our family. There’s been a home on the site since the early seventeenth century.”

  “The James River,” began Patience as she stared off into space, almost hypnotized by the fire. “It’s 430 miles long and was originally known as Powhatan Flu by the English colonists who settled at Jamestown in 1607. They named it after the Indian Chief Powhatan. They renamed it for King James. The river begins near the western Virginia border, west of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and joins the Chesapeake Bay at Hampton Roads. I’m also familiar with all the major tributaries. You know, Thomas Jefferson lived on a tributary of the James River.”

  “That’s impressive. How did you learn all that?”

  “I know all about Virginia’s James River Plantations,” she said, as she conjured up a mental picture of an elegant Georgian-style brick mansion and stylish, laughing ladies in hoop skirts enjoying picnics by the water and romantic candlelight dinners. “I read about all the historic landmarks in a history book.”

  “You would like Fair Winds, Patience. Your parlor reminds me a lot of home.”

  “It sounds lovely. I would really like to see it one day.”

  “It’s so peaceful along the river. It’s beautiful country.”

  “Then why did you leave?”

  “It’s personal. I just couldn’t stay. There was a girl I—”

  “You don’t have to tell me.” There was a story there, she thought. Perhaps another woman had hurt him. But he would tell her when he was ready to talk about it.

  “I want to tell you. I have to tell you. Her name was Jenna.”

  “Did you love her?” Patience asked, not really prepared to hear the answer.

  “We were engaged to be married. I guess I thought I loved her.”

  “What happened? Did she hurt you very much, Nathaniel?”

  “I think she injured my pride more than anything,” he said, just realizing the truth of it. “She ran off with a…you promise not to laugh?”

  “I would never laugh at your pain,” she swore.

  “She ran off with a golf pro. My golf pro.”

  Patience’s lower lip quivered uncontrollably, and she had to bite it to hold back the urge to convulse with laughter. She forced her eyes to remain serious.

  “That explains your irrationally hostile feelings about golf,” she said evenly.

  “Golf was my game. I introduced her to the sport.”

  “Apparently your pro introduced her to more than the game,” Patience said, finally breaking down. “Sorry, but you have to admit there is something humorous about it.”

  “It didn’t seem funny at the time,” he said. Looking back on those times and being here with Patience, his pain was only a distant memory. His feelings for Jenna didn’t even come close to the feelings he had developed for Patience.

  “I guess I never really loved her at all. I was more humiliated than anything else. I actually miss my golf game more than I miss her. Since she called off the wedding, I’ve been wandering around the world trying to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

  “And have you come to any conclusions?”

  “Nothing definite.” He was quiet for a long time, and then he asked, “Have you ever wanted to get married?”

  “I never found a love like my grandparents had,” Patience confided. “That’s what I’m waiting for.” She thought of how her grandfather had indulged and deferred to her grandmother. She was his true partner in life and his true love.

  “Did you ever wonder why he married her, whether their meeting was truly accidental? Her father was a vice admiral. That would have proved useful to William during the war. Did you ever think that’s the reason he chose her?”

  She thought of Emilie. Of course he must have loved her. Enough to have created a child with her. But the love her grandfather had felt for her grandmother could not be denied. It was strong and true, and tangible. The kind of love you could feel whenever they entered a room. The kind of love that lasts a lifetime.

  “Whatever crimes you think my grandfather is guilty of, not loving my grandmother is not one of them. I’m certain of that. What about your mother? Can you tell me about her?”

  “My mother left when I was ten years old,” Nathaniel admitted bitterly. “I barely remember her. I blamed myself for her leaving and wondered what I had done wrong to make her leave. I remember missing her desperately, hoping, always hoping, she’d come back. But she never did.

  “My grandmother said she didn’t leave me, she left my father. After that, my father left. But if she really loved me, why didn’t she take me with her? My mother left, but my grandmother stuck. Gran raised me. She was a romantic. She said I’d be the one to break the Morgan chain of bad luck with women. But she was wrong. I’m never getting married. No woman is ever going to run from me again.”


  Patience stared at him, aching for the lonely boy who still missed his mother. The scars of that hurt were still there. She touched his cheek lovingly and he shivered.

  “Not all women leave, Nathaniel.”

  “That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

  She reached for his hand, and her heart swelled with love for this man. It made no sense. They had met such a short time ago. But she had known him forever. She had been waiting for him forever. They were, somehow, connected.

  ****

  He held her hand in hers.

  “I can’t stay, Patience,” he said, frowning. “I have to be honest with you. I owe you that much. Now that I know you’re safe, I…I’ve gotten off course, somehow. It’s not in my nature to stay anchored in any one place for too long. I don’t need anyone but the sea.”

  Nathaniel knew that wasn’t exactly true. He needed Patience. He’d never known just how much until he’d seen her in the study with that man. Until he thought he might lose her. But he wasn’t going to stay. In fact, he had already packed his things. He planned to tell her tonight that he would be sailing in the morning.

  She laughed. “Bermuda is the world’s second most isolated island. No matter where you are in Bermuda, you’re only minutes from the water. Surely you could find peace here, with the sea all around you.” And me.

  He caught her face in his hands.

  “Patience,” he sighed. How was he ever going to live without her? He took her in his arms and kissed her so gently, to try to ease the ache in his heart. But one kiss wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Her arms went around him and she raised her lips to his, seeking his warmth.

  “Nathaniel, I love you,” she said, as her tears started flowing. “I wanted to tell you, and I thought when Friederich had hold of me I’d never get a chance to tell you.”

  “Oh, God, Patience,” he said, wiping away her tears. “You’re still in shock. It’s all the events of the evening. Please don’t cry over me. You don’t really love me. You can’t love me. You don’t even know me.”