He brought his face close to hers. “I think you know a lot more than what you’re sayin’.”
“Tess! I’ve been looking for you. We’re waiting for you out on the terrace.” Jessica jumped at hearing Michael’s voice beside her and almost fell into the protection of his arms. “Please excuse us,” Michael said as he stared coldly at Rowdy. He slipped his arm around Jessica’s waist and was surprised at how she yielded. He used his body as a shield against the unspoken protest of the little gnome and led her away past the crowd and through the large French doors.
The terrace was empty, and Michael handed Jessica a glass of champagne. The October night air had a distinct chill, but Electra made sure the outside spaces were heated with tall gas heaters. Smaller circles of fires were placed in several areas on the terrace. He studied her as she sipped her champagne with trembling hands. “It looked like you needed a little rescuing.”
Jessica tried to compose herself. “Oh, yes. Th-thank you. It’s chilly here,” she said trying to explain away her shaking.
Michael placed his tuxedo jacket around her shoulders. He looked over her head back into the ballroom where he last saw Rowdy Howe standing. “Do you know him?”
Her eyes flitted to the side. “No. N-not at all. I’m just not good in social situations.” She took another large swallow of champagne. “Do you?”
“I know of him.”
She changed the subject. “Did you ride today? I don’t think I saw you.” Jessica hoped he did not see the lie. She had spent most of her time in the tent after the Hunter Pace avoiding him.
He smiled. “No way. I’m not crazy enough to ride on any horse. If I ride, it’s out of necessity, not pleasure. I am a firm believer in keeping two legs under me, not four.”
Jessica looked at him in surprise. “You’re kidding! How can anyone live in this part of the country and not be a rider? Why I thought that you must be the king of the pack by the way everyone acted toward you at the Franklin School.” Another large gulp of champagne tried to wash the words away as soon as they were spoken. She didn’t want him to think she was watching him, or anything.
Michael put his head back and laughed. It was a quiet, likable sound that had a soothing effect on her. “Maybe they like me more because they don’t see a lot of me. Some people like it that way.”
Jessica studied his face and listened to his voice. He had an easy way about him, and she immediately became more relaxed. Their conversation drifted from how she got to know the Percivals and Bleauvelts to the Franklin School’s Cleanup Day.
“I saw you with Karen Percival,” Michael leaned over the railing of the patio as he spoke. “You really knew how to reach her.”
“You saw me with her?”
“Well, yes. I had seen you around town a couple of times, and when I saw you at the school I took the opportunity to learn what you were like.” Michael looked down at his empty glass.
Jessica stuttered. “Oh, yeah, she’s a great kid. She just reminded me of someone I knew once.” Still unsettled by her encounter with Mr. Howe, a mist of tears formed in Jessica’s eyes before she had a chance to squelch them. “She just needs a little extra attention. How did you become involved with the school?”
An unexpected expression crossed his face. “Father Steeves told me about the school and Electra helped me to get involved. Some of the kids are there because of birth defects, and others are there because of, um, accidents.” Slate blue eyes looked away. “She knew I would want to help.” He smoothed down the front of his pleated shirt and traded their empty champagne glasses for full ones from the tray offered by a butler.
They talked on about how much the local townspeople have done for the school. Michael entertained her with stories of its past years and some other tales of the more notable characters around town. It was nearly midnight when Electra discovered them.
“So! Keeping her all to yourself, Michael? Where are your manners?” Electra grabbed his arm and looked up at him with playful eyes, “I finally get you to come to one of my big parties, and I want you to mingle! Now go!” Michael looked at Jessica with mocked helplessness as Electra pushed him back into the ballroom. “Wait! You’ll need this,” she said as she tossed him his jacket.
Electra turned and ceremoniously escorted Jessica back into the warmth of the great hall. Jessica was instantly surrounded by people. Relaxed from her talk with Michael and loosened by the champagne, Jessica laughed and joked freely. The orchestra had gone, and a disc jockey appeared and was playing a great mix of danceable music. Jessica was caught up in dancing with a stream of partners. Many faces she recognized either from today’s event or from seeing them around town.
Hoyt caught her as she spun around from one overzealous partner. “Whoa Lady! Glad to see ya’ll havin’ a good time. ClaireAnne is just about pooped, but I’m not.” He whirled her around, and they laughed with enjoyment.
Jessica brought her head up and saw Michael looking at her. She smiled and saw that Lainely was looking up at Michael trying to get his attention with animated gestures and expressions. Lainely looked in the direction of Michael’s gaze. Seeing Jessica, Lainely flashed her teeth in a smile and turned Michael around by the arm away from the dance floor.
The crowd was thinning down, and a few more people came up to Jessica to congratulate her on her ride and to inquire about whether she had time to work with their horses. Jessica was thrilled that she would soon have a barn full of horses to care for and other horses around the valley to train.
Electra came up to her after bidding goodnight to several guests. “You really have made quite an impression on my friends. You seem like a very nice person, Tess. I think we can be good friends.” Electra had a softness in her voice that made Jessica smile.
“I’d like that, too, Electra. I can’t thank you enough for making sure I came tonight.” Both women laughed. “I really do need to get home, but I came here in your limousine. Do you know anyone who could give me a lift back? I don’t dare ask Hoyt. I think he needs a ride home himself.” She smiled at the disheveled figure still dancing away.
Electra’s eyes lit up. “Why yes, Honey! I’ll have the car brought around right now.”
Jessica waited alone for her ride on the stone steps at the front of the mansion. The trees lining the long drive were casting shadows from the light of the full moon. She remembered nights like this from long ago with a mixture of pain and pleasure. The music was thumping its beat, and she could hear patters of laughter rising from the last of the partiers. Her feet were killing her, and she took off her shoes with relief.
The black limousine pulled up in front of her. Michael stepped out of the back of the car and held the door open for her. “I think Electra was feeling guilty for breaking our conversation off too early this evening. She has strongly suggested that I escort you home.”
Jessica chuckled. “She is definitely a woman you cannot say no to,” she said as she settled herself into the soft seat. Michael sat down next to her and signaled the driver to go.
They rode the distance up the mountain to Jessica’s farm talking easily. She was surprised at how his gentle manner coaxed her to speak more freely about herself than she normally allowed. She typically kept a tight rein on any personal conversations, but talking to Michael was different. There was a quiet depth to him that she found welcoming.
Jessica remarked on the beauty of the night as they arrived at her farm, but got no response from Michael, whose head was turned toward the window and momentarily engrossed in his own thoughts. The driver pulled the limousine around in her driveway. Michael helped Jessica out of the car. Empress and Banshee nickered softly in the distance.
Michael stepped forward and took his time looking around her farm. He walked her to her door, helped her open it with her keys, and turned on the lights. Making no attempt to walk in, he took a long moment to scan the house. He turned to Jessica. �
�Well, I guess I can report back to the Chief that all looks secure here.” He put his arms around her.
Jessica looked up, and his lips lightly brushed hers with a kiss. Her response of moving closer to him and welcoming a second kiss surprised her. Then a third. She felt his warmth on this cold night and was both drawn to him and wary of him. Getting close to someone was not in her plan. Not yet. But she found herself responding to his kisses. Catching herself, she took a step back and smiled. “Thank you for a wonderful time. I hope I wasn’t too much of a bore for you.”
He half smiled and lowered his arms. “Ha! No, I think you’re just the opposite.”
Jessica stepped inside her door. “Goodnight.”
Michael looked beyond her and surveyed the interior of her home one more time. “Goodnight, Tess White.” He took several steps backward, then turned and walked to the limousine.
Jessica watched the lights of the limousine fade into the night. Closing the door, she put her back up against it and exhaled.
The old man took a long, noisy sip of his hot tea. He was tired. It had been a long day of work, and such days took a greater toll on him than they used to. He looked with satisfaction around his richly paneled den at the corps of men that surrounded him. Each had proven himself in this war, and he was proud to count this elite group of soldiers as his friends. He reflected with satisfaction at how well his strategies had paid off over the years. He was thinking of retiring. The thought caused him a brief moment of pain. Who could take his place?
“And finally, Sir, we received confirmation this morning that our last round of fundraising has gone on as scheduled. The aid shipments have arrived, and all of the money has been well spent. We can be proud of its pristine origin.” The coded statement was understood by everyone in the room. The cease-fire between the parties only enabled him to make sure the arsenals were well stocked. It gave him the time to be fastidiously careful with some money while scrupulously transferring other funds. The announcement was followed by a round of backslapping and handshaking among the jubilant men.
The old man looked at the younger face with respect. “You have done well, Shamus. I am sure you will enjoy your much earned leave with your wife and family.” The old man observed the look of gratitude that washed over his charge. He needed many more years of experience before he could be trusted with command. Such a shame. He was the same age as his younger son. The thought caused another swell of hidden anguish.
The heavy mahogany door to the enclave swung open. All eyes turned to the fiftyish man who entered the room with a misplaced sense of welcome. No signals had been given, so no one showed alarm at the unexpected intrusion. The visitor’s small black eyes darted around the room expertly scanning and assessing each occupant. Although he thought he knew where each man stood, he still felt the cold chill of someone else observing him. The black slits of the visitor finally settled on the old man. He did not wait for his turn to speak.
“Magnus! By Gawd, Sah! Ya’ll just look bettah than evah! Always a pleasure seein’ you. I saw the Missus on the way in. Yar a lucky man, Magnus.”
Magnus resisted the urge to cover his nose and mouth as the man approached. “Mr. Howe, how nice of you to pay me a visit.” He wanted to get to the reason of this sudden intrusion. “I am most sure that you did not come to assess the qualities of my health or my wife. Please, state the reason why I should be remotely interested in seeing you again.” The old man sunk himself further in the huge armchair. He took another sip of the cooling tea and gazed at his visitor with gray, hooded eyes.
In Rowdy’s excitement, saliva began to pool at the corners of his mouth. He swallowed furiously to contain it, giving him the appearance of a rabid animal. He took the back of his rough hand and tried to wipe away the torrent.
“Why, is that any way to treat one a yer old ‘friends’ Magnus? I think I might have seen an ol’ acquaintance of yours and was wonderin’ if ya might like to catch up on ol’ times?”
“Old times, Mr. Howe?”
Rowdy’s face was beginning to glow a deep red with anticipation. “It has been too long since I’ve been of any help to you, Magnus, I mean Mr. Chairman, Sir. I used to, ahem, possess a certain usefulness to perform errands for you.”
“And you want to work your way back into my favor?”
“Yessir, Mr. Chairman. Being in your favor earns a man a lot of respect. This morsel of information I have for you puts me back in my rightful place as another one a’ yer trusted aides de camp.”
A raspy chuckle escaped from the old man. “Mr. Howe. You know that, of course, I am interested in any old acquaintance of mine. Especially if they share our deep mutual interest, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Why, Sah, I remain true to my pledge. That’s why I came right here to ya’ll in person.” The small eyes darted around the room. He still felt that cold chill on the back of his neck, and he wanted to locate the source. He leaned closer to the white head. “I just think ya’ll might want to choose just who knows about yer acquaintance.” He looked at the other men in the room. “I haven’t been introduced to your friends, here,” he observed with a nod.
The old man glanced in the direction of another set of doors leading to a smaller drawing room. He addressed the corps of men. “I am sure you would all like a glass of whiskey or sherry to help your relax from our long day.” He motioned toward the doors with his bony hand. “Please help yourselves.”
Rowdy waited a moment while the men dutifully filed into the drawing room and closed the door behind them. He pulled his rumpled jacket around him to ward off another breath of stabbing cold. He looked expectantly at the vacant chair across from the old man beside the glowing hearth. Receiving no such invitation, he remained standing.
“So who is this acquaintance that I should be so interested in?” The old man set his china cup and saucer down carefully and patted the pockets of his finely woven wool jacket for his pipe.
“Sah! You know how loyal I’ve been to you throughout the years. I have done e’ry thang that ya’ll have asked o’ me. And if I must say so, I have performed my duties well.” This was the moment he had been waiting for, and he was not going to let it go without glory. Rivulets of spit slid down his chin.
“I am well aware of your dedication and hard work.” The old man tried to keep the level of amusement out of his voice. “Please get to the point, Mr. Howe.”
“Why ya’ll remember that unfortunate incident a few years back with that farm just over the hill in Hamilton?” He didn’t wait for acknowledgment. He knew that the incident was still fresh in the minds of everyone. “Well, that Wyeth girl has sprung up in my neck of the woods!” He blurted out his news with relish. A coarse spray of saliva flickered and sparkled as it was illuminated against the red flames of the fire.
Magnus’ unreadable eyes gave no flicker of emotion. “That’s impossible. I heard that she died in a tragic fire. You must be mistaken.” His voice was smooth and conveyed the same lack of emotion as his eyes.
“We all know that wasn’t handled well.”
“I heard it was handled perfectly,” growled Magnus.
Rowdy fumbled with a newspaper stuffed into the breast pocket of his slightly malodorous jacket. “Nope. Notta chance. Look here.” He waived a copy of the Louisville Sunday News under the nose of his superior. Prominently displayed in a large color photo was a foursome of weary but smiling equestrians holding a wealth of trophies. Rowdy shoved his stubby finger into the face of one of the riders.
The old man betrayed nothing but impatience. “It says that the name of the woman is ‘Tess White, formerly of Utah.’ Why do you bother me so much with this?”
“Yeah, the paper might say she’s Tess White, but I think she’s someone you know.” Rowdy was beginning to be frustrated. This was not going as he had planned. By this point, he thought that he would have been offered the coveted glass of brandy that was the
traditional drink of celebration with the Chairman. He forced the point further.
“I had heard about this young thang training a friend’s horse that had a bad attitude and makin’ some progress. I found out that, before then, she was working on some dude ranch in Utah and doin’ some skiing. No one had heard of her before she got there to that ranch or since she left. That place she worked at was no college university for learnin’ how to train. So, she musta learned ‘er stuff from somewhere else.” The old man shifted in his seat showing a growing feeling of impatience.
Rowdy understood and rushed on. “Look at that story about how that team won the Pace. No one just learns how to ride a horse like that let alone train one outta thin air. So, I was curious about her and made a point a’ introducin’ mahself at the celebration ball. I thought she might have known some ol’ friends that would explain how she came to be such an expert. She just looked familiar to me, too. And when I asked her to tell me about herself, she just about shook herself apart with nerves. I ain’t never seen anything like it. And when I said her name with my twang, Why-iet, Why-iet, she just about jumped outta her skin! Why that made me start thinkin’ too, an’ I got out my old racing books. That’s when it hit me for sure. That there is Jessica Wyeth and no one can tell me otherwise!” Another torrent of spittle escaped from his mouth and rained down onto the wrinkled newspaper.
The old man looked at the panting Rowdy Howe through a boiling cloud of pipe smoke. His velvety smooth voice was coached into a soothing tone for the rattled southerner. “I certainly appreciate your coming to me with this most unusual piece of information. But I do know that a young woman died seven years ago in a tragic and unexplainable explosion and that young woman was conclusively identified as Jessica Wyeth. I think the stresses of your service are beginning to wear on you, Mr. Howe. Perhaps you should take some time to yourself.”
The Charity Page 16