Thurston House
Page 32
“That son of a bitch. I hope he hangs.” He didn’t tell her he was already dead, and she’d find out soon enough.
“Thank God someone stopped him in time. You’ve got good men.”
“And good friends.” There were other women who would have let Sabrina be raped. Spring Moon was losing the man she had loved for many years, but she had protected his bride like her own child, and he was grateful to her. There would be a handsome gift to her, there already had been, and he would put her on the train himself that night. It meant driving till dawn to make the connection for her, but it was important to get her out of town in case someone talked, and once she was gone, there would be no harm done. He looked down at Hannah now, and patted her arm. “Take care of my little girl.” And she was almost that to him, twenty-eight years younger than he, she seemed almost like a child to him, except that he knew also how powerful she was, how capable, how strong. She would be all right again, and he would keep her safe for the rest of her life. It was what he had promised her, and promised himself before that.
And it was what he promised again on their wedding day, two months after that, as she stood in the church in St. Helena, looking happily at him, with their men eight hundred strong almost hanging from the rafters of the church, crowded in, pressed together like sardines, some unable to get in at all, and watching the ceremony through the open windows as they exchanged their vows. Even those who had abandoned her years before had come today, if not for love of her, then for love of John. Hannah cried openly throughout the ceremony, and both Sabrina and John had tears in their eyes more than once.
There was an enormous open-air reception planned in the compound of the Thurston mines. There was nowhere else that would accommodate them all, especially with their children and wives, and Sabrina had wanted to include them all.
“You only get married once, you know.” She had smiled happily at John when they were making their plans, although she knew it wasn’t true for him. But it was hard to realize that he had been married to someone else before. She had never known his wife, and Matilda had died more than two years before she was born. It was strange to think of him that way, married to someone else, with two children. It was almost as though he were a different man back then. She could envision him more easily with Spring Moon, because she had so often seen him with her over the years, but even that seemed hard to remember now. It was more as though he had never belonged to anyone but her, and as they took the steamer to San Francisco that night, he smiled down at her and took her hand.
“What did I ever do to deserve a child like you at my side, Sabrina Harte?” She liked the sound of her new name, and she smiled happily up at him.
“I’m the lucky one, John Harte.”
“I know better than that.”
He had offered her a trip to anywhere she wished, as their honeymoon, but she had surprised him by saying that all she wanted was to spend some time with him at Thurston House, and they planned to do just that. He had arranged to spend a month in town with her there. They would stay until the Christmas holidays, and then return to Napa to take their businesses in hand. But they had no business on their mind that night, as they arrived at Thurston House well after midnight. She had asked her banker to hire a small, temporary staff for her, and the house was ablaze with light, and when John followed her upstairs, they found the enormous canopied bed turned down in the master suite and a fire roaring in the hearth. There were candles lit, and flowers in enormous vases everywhere. The house had never looked more beautiful to her, and as she looked at the bed that had been her mother’s so long ago, and hers after that, she realized that it was her marriage bed tonight, and with a shy look in her eyes she turned to John.
“Welcome home.” Her voice was whisper soft, and he took her hand and led her back downstairs. They drank champagne in front of the fire in the living room, and at last, as he saw her suppress a yawn, he carried her upstairs, and deposited her on their bed. She had already shown him his portion of the master suite, his bags had been unpacked, and he appeared a while later in his dressing gown, smiling gently at her. She looked like a fairy princess in a pale pink satin dressing gown, and when it fell from her shoulders beside the bed, her hair looked like ebony as it fell over the ivory silk of her flesh, and then swiftly he blew the candles out, and the room was lit by the warm glow of the fire.
“Is it very strange to be here with me?” he asked her honestly as they slid into bed.
“A little bit. I am so used to being here alone.…” But it was not only that. She had had no contact with any man, had kissed no one but him, and the only other man who had ever approached her had of course been Dan. And now suddenly she was John’s wife, and it was her wedding night, and all the seriousness and skill she had, the strength with which she ran the mine, meant nothing at all. She was delicate and vulnerable, and more than a little bit afraid of what was in store for her, and he realized that there had been no one at all to talk to her, except her housekeeper, and perhaps no one had said anything at all. It touched him to the quick to realize that and he cradled her in his arms like a child, but the longing that he felt for her as he held her close to him was not what one felt for a child.
“Sabrina.…” He didn’t know how to begin to ask her what he wanted to know. Spring Moon had been so wise when she had come to him, and there had been other women before and after her, but they were none of them young girls … Matilda had of course been a virgin so long before … but they had both been eighteen years old … and now he lay beside this child … this girl … and she belonged to him. He looked down at her tenderly. “Has anyone spoken to you?”
She smiled softly up at him, her face turned to a pale rose by the fire’s glow. “I think I know.…” She trusted him and she knew she always would, and should have years ago.
“But has no one explained it to you?” She shook her head, and he kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyes, and then her lips again. He had to restrain himself, she brought something out in him that he had never known before. “Sabrina, I love you so.” He whispered the words in her hair, and she arched her body up toward his.
“Then that’s all I need to know.” And with the utmost gentleness he took her hand and slowly kissed her palm, her waist, the inside of her arm, until at last he reached her breast, and the silk of her flesh as he followed it down to the inside of her thigh and then back again, and by morning, as they lay side by side in the master suite of Thurston House, he had taught her all she would ever need to know of loving.
26
They returned to St. Helena on New Year’s Day, and by then they had resolved where they would live. It seemed simpler to move into the house Jeremiah had built so long ago for the girl who died. The honeycomb of bedrooms on the third floor would be perfect for them when the babies began to come, and Sabrina insisted that she wanted two or three of them or more, and John would groan and then laugh at her.
“At my age? They’ll think that I’m their grandfather! How will I keep up with them?”
She smiled knowingly at him and touched his ear with her lips as she whispered to him. “You seemed to have no trouble keeping up with anyone last night.”
“That’s beside the point.” He looked delightedly at her. She was a dream come true in every way.
“I didn’t think it was myself.” They laughed together a great deal of the time, and talked constantly about the myriad interests they shared. She showed him everything about the Thurston mines and introduced him to all her men. They spent three days together every week in her office there, while she joined him at his own mines for the rest of the week. He had an excellent new foreman at the Harte mines, and now he only wanted to get her mines in hand. He had a foreman in mind to run hers too, so that he in turn could become a sort of overlord, overseeing their joint domain.
“And eventually, we might even be able to spend most of our time in town.” He seemed to like the idea and she did too. She had no particular hunger for the social
life they could have shared there, but she was very fond of all things cultural. They had gone to the opera, a visiting ballet, and several plays during their honeymoon, and they both enjoyed the splendor of the magnificent house her father had built.
“It always made me sad when I thought of it …” she told him one night. “He built it all for her, and then two and a half years later she died, and the house was empty. Somehow it didn’t seem fair.”
John nodded, thinking of the distant past. “He was an enormous help to me when Matilda and the children died.” It no longer hurt as much to think of them, it had been so long ago, and he had Sabrina now, and perhaps more children one day. That was their fondest hope. “I was so sad for him when I heard that it happened to him, but he wouldn’t see anyone then, you know. I went to see him once and he brushed me off. I think it was still too painful for him, and I understood.” John smiled and shook his head, thinking back on his youth. “I wasn’t very nice to him in those days, and your father was such a decent man. Kind and wise, and terribly modest, given all he had.” And he had taught the same virtues to his child, John had been pleased to find, but he had known all that about her before he married her. “I was so determined to make it on my own back then, that I insisted on keeping my distance from him. It’s too bad, I had an awful lot to learn.”
“I think he liked you anyway.” She smiled. “In a funny way, you’re a lot like him.” She had noticed that before she married him, but she saw it even more now, the patience, the gentleness, the tender ways, combined with the sharp mind. They were enjoying being at each other’s mines and she was trying to teach him about her wines, but he didn’t have much time. He enjoyed drinking them, but there were fewer bottles to drink now. There was a blight in the vineyards, and that summer she had lost more than half of her vines, and others had lost even more. “It’s rotten luck.” She had been very upset, but they had so many other things to do, the house in Napa to change subtly for him, the changes to make at the mines, Thurston House to open and keep staffed with a small crew for when they chose to visit there, and they had to learn each other’s ways. They were both surprised at how easily they adapted to each other, and the only disappointment that they shared was that no matter how often they made love, or how energetically, by the following summer there was still no baby on the way, and Hannah questioned her about it one day.
“You’re not using anything, are you?”
“What do you mean?” Sabrina looked confused. Despite her marriage to John, she was still innocent, and she knew only what he had explained to her. There was no one else to tell her those things, and never had been. Amelia might have perhaps, but Sabrina hadn’t seen her in two years, although she had sent a spectacular wedding gift to them, and was thrilled for her. But still, Sabrina had no idea what Hannah was talking about.
“You know, you’re not preventing the babies from coming, are you?”
“Can you do that?” She looked stunned, and Hannah narrowed her eyes at her, and then realized the girl really didn’t know. She was pleased. She was a decent girl, not like her mother before her. She still remembered the gold rings she’d found. “I didn’t know … can one …” She had always wondered what certain women did … like those who made a profession of it, or … “What do they do?” She was intrigued by the knowledge she was about to gain, although she had no desire to stop anything. On the contrary, she and John both wanted a child very much.
“Some use slippery elm, like the girls up here, but there are fancier things.” It sounded repulsive to Sabrina. Slippery elm? She made a face and Hannah laughed. “Them what can afford it use gold rings.” She paused and decided what the hell. She was a grown woman now. “Like your mother did.”
“My mother did that?” Sabrina looked surprised. “When?”
“Before she had you. Your daddy thought she wanted a baby as much as he did, but he was a lot older than her.” The age difference was even greater between her and John. “She told him she couldn’t understand what was wrong. They’d been married for more than a year by then, and I found them in her bathroom one day … them damn rings … and I gave them to him.” She grinned almost evilly. “And then you came along pretty quick after that. She was sicker’n a dog by the time they went back to town.” And somehow what Hannah said really bothered her. It sounded so unkind. As though her mother had been trapped into having her. Her heart suddenly went out to her.
“What did my father say?”
“He was mad as fire, and then he never said much after that. He was satisfied as soon as he knew you were on the way.” She seemed almost proud of what she’d done, and for an instant, thinking of poor Camille, caught in her perfidy, Sabrina hated the old woman for foiling her. It wasn’t fair. She should have been allowed to wait if that was what she wanted. But then again, since she had died so soon after that, perhaps Destiny had chosen well … but twenty-three years later, her daughter felt sorry for her. Sabrina had just turned twenty-two that spring.
“What did my mother do?”
“Mope … sulk …” Hannah thought back and knew that she had never forgiven him, but she didn’t tell Sabrina that. “She was a young fool, he married her after all, he had a right to babies if that was what he wanted from her … damn gold rings … he broke them and threw them out and she cried like a child.…” Sabrina felt her heart turn over inside her at the thought … poor girl … and she told John about it that night.
“It sounds so brutal of him. And wrong of Hannah to interfere. She shouldn’t have told him. She should have told her, and let her go to him.”
“Maybe she was fooling him.”
“That’s what Hannah seemed to think, but I’m not sure I believe that. Hannah has always said unkind things about my mother from time to time, there must have been some kind of jealousy between them. She had worked for my father for eighteen years before my mother arrived. I suppose that was part of it.”
“Anyway, I’m glad she found those rings.” He smiled at his wife, and then wondered something. “What made her tell you that?”
Sabrina blushed and smiled at him. “She asked me if I was using something to keep from … I didn’t even know you could.” She looked less embarrassed then. There seemed to be nothing she couldn’t say to him. He was her very dearest friend. “You never told me that.”
“I didn’t think you cared.” He seemed surprised that she did now.
“No, but it’s interesting.” And then he laughed at her, and pinched her cheek.
“My little innocent. Is there anything else you want to know?”
“Yes,” she looked sadly at him for a moment or two, “but you don’t have the answer, I’m afraid, my love,” and they knew that he had had two children before so the problem wasn’t his. “I wonder why it hasn’t happened yet.”
“It will, in time. Be patient, my love. We’ve only been married for nine months.”
She looked woefully at him. “I should have a baby in my arms by now.”
He smiled at her. “You have me instead. Will that do for a while?”
“Forever, my love.” He pulled her into his arms again and their lips met and she forgot everything that Hannah had said to her that afternoon, but she thought of it again once or twice over the next six months, but it took even longer than that. It was their second July when she got up one day, and felt ill almost instantly. They had been married for nineteen months by then, and Sabrina had just turned twenty-three years old. The heat was overpowering that day and she had worked at the mine with him the day before, insisting still that she didn’t want to merge the Harte and Thurston mines and they could still run the two enterprises separately, and one of their rare fights had ensued, and between that and the stifling heat, she had barely slept all night.
“Are you all right?” He glanced over at her as she got out of bed.
“More or less.” There was still a chill between them from the night before, and then slowly she turned to him, but before she said another word,
he watched her sink slowly to the floor, and as he leapt from the bed, he found her unconscious there.
“Sabrina … Sabrina … darling …” He was horrified, and always the specter of the dreaded flu haunted him. He sent for the doctor at once, who found no particularly frightening sign of anything.
“She’s probably just tired, or maybe she’s been working too hard.” John delivered her a lecture that night, it was time she left the new foreman alone. He would oversee him himself, and she could amuse herself with her vines, although that wasn’t much fun these days. The blight had gotten worse. But she didn’t seem to be listening to him, picked at her food, fell asleep instantly as they sat in the swing that night, and he carried her up to bed without waking her. He was worried about the way she looked and even more so the next day when she fainted again. But this time he took her straight to Napa, and booked a cabin on the steamer into San Francisco. The next morning he had her at the hospital, and a team of doctors went over her while John Harte paced the halls.
“Well?” John pounced on the first man to leave her room, and the doctor smiled.
“I’d say March myself, although one of my colleagues thinks February.” For an instant, John didn’t understand, but from the cryptic smile on the man’s face, he suddenly understood.
“You mean …”
“I do. She’s expecting, my friend.”
You could have heard his shouts halfway across town, and he brought Sabrina an enormous diamond ring that day and gave it to her that night at Thurston House when he took her home. They had already decided to have the baby there, when it was born, and John wanted her near all the fine doctors in town. But they had told him that she didn’t have to leave Napa until December, so they had lots of time. And the delirious pair spent the night talking about it, the names for a son … those for a little girl … how she wanted to do the baby’s room, and time and time again she threw her arms around John. “I’m the happiest woman alive.”