The Moon and the Stars
Page 3
She knew nothing about San Sebastian, Texas, but that was where she was headed. Each mile the stage traveled was taking her farther and farther away from her enemy—and that was all she cared about at the moment.
It was Caroline Duncan who began the long journey into the unknown. But by the time she arrived at San Sebastian, she would be Caroline Richmond.
Chapter Two
Texas—1871
Caroline Richmond, as she was known to the people of San Sebastian, sat near the window so she could catch the last bit of light from the setting sun. Reaching into her sewing basket, she untangled a strand of green thread and threaded her needle. She still had to hem both sleeves before the gown would be finished.
She paused for a moment and allowed her gaze to linger on the sunset that was so brilliant it made the cloud bank to the east look like it was on fire. She was swamped by feelings of melancholy and homesickness that cut deep into her soul. She had tried not to dwell on the past, but in truth it was always with her, lurking just at the edge of her mind.
She tried to concentrate on the view from the window. This part of Texas was mostly flat, so twilight lingered long past the gentle sunsets that she remembered in Charleston. In South Carolina, twilight fell softly across the land. In Texas, when the sun finally did set, it struck against the land like a hammer on an anvil.
She shook her head to dispel her memories, because she could never go home again. She thought of how her father had never fully recovered from her mother’s death. He had become a shadow of the man he’d once been. She feared he might have become worse after she’d disappeared from his life. How could she know, since she had not seen or contacted him in almost three years?
Without a doubt, Brace would have someone watching her father’s mail; he would expect her to write. In that way she had outsmarted him.
She was resigned to the fact that San Sebastian would probably be her home for the rest of her life.
If she was going to be honest with herself, she owed her very existence to the kind people of this town. When she had first arrived as a stranger, the local families had taken her into their hearts and homes. But sometimes, like now, when she was alone in the still of the evening, when families were gathered about their table together, she longed for a family of her own. Her heart and mind were still attached to the past, and she could never have children of her own as long as Brace was looking for her.
The Gray family lived behind her, and they had seven energetic children whose laughter often floated in her direction, touching the loneliness deep inside her. Even now she could hear the constant slamming of the door as Wanda Gray called her offspring to supper.
Last night the old nightmare had returned, and she had awakened in a cold sweat. She had been too afraid to go back to sleep and had paced the floor until dawn. It had been a long day, and now she was so weary she could hardly hold her head straight.
She did not want to remember holding Michael in her arms, her gown soaked with his blood. She did not want to remember how it felt when he had taken his last breath and there had been nothing she could do to help him. She missed him, she always would.
She reached into the bottom of her sewing basket, pushing thread aside until she found what she was searching for. She carefully unfolded the clipping from The Union Daily News of Union, South Carolina. Her hands trembled so badly she could hardly read the faded, three-year-old article:
Michael David Duncan, prominent resident of Charleston, took his own life on his wedding day. His grieving brother, Brace, and his stepmother, Lilly Duncan, gave their account of the tragedy. They said that Michael had been despondent for several months, and he seemed to be worse on his wedding day. The deceased’s wife, Caroline Duncan, is unavailable for comment and is in seclusion.
It grieved her that everyone thought Michael had taken his own life. She had hoped that Brace would be a suspect and go on trial for her husband’s murder. But he had been very clever; he’d twisted the tragedy to fit his own purpose. Caroline was disappointed that Lilly had lied for her son—but then, she’d probably had no choice in the matter.
Caroline shuddered at the lies that had been printed and accepted by the people of South Carolina. It was difficult to shake the horrors she had lived through that awful day. The reality of her situation was grim—even in the daylight hours she had to fight against the fear that was always with her. Whenever she was out about town she was constantly glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone was following her.
She laid her forehead against the smooth windowpane while her gaze moved down the dusty street that led to Fort Lambrick. The town had grown up around the fort and owed its prosperity to the army outpost. When she had first arrived in Texas, everything had seemed so alien to her. The blistering summer heat made saddle leather so hot it was difficult to mount a horse. Then there were the harsh, unpredictable winters when a warm, pleasant day could suddenly be struck by a blue norther, plunging the temperature down forty degrees in a matter of minutes.
But this was her adopted home where she had found shelter and friendship.
Caroline laid her sewing aside and went into the small kitchen. By now it was completely dark, so she felt around for the oil lamp and struck a match, watching a warm glow cascade into the dark corners of the room.
Archimedes, a fat tabby, was curled up in a basket beneath the stove. The cat regarded her with a lazy yawn, then closed his eyes and curled tighter into a ball. She had found Archimedes on her doorstep one night and had brought him in, fed him, and brushed the knots from his damp fur. She had given him a name, and he had taken up residence in her house as if it belonged to him.
She bent down and rubbed his fur and smiled at his loud purr. “We are alike, you and I, Archimedes. Neither one of us had anyone; now we have each other.”
The animal turned over on his back so she could rub his stomach. He purred louder when she accommodated him. Then he yawned and closed one eye while watching her with the other.
“You are no company to me at all, you lazy cat. All you want to do is sleep,” Caroline gently teased, giving him a final rub.
A kettle of water was simmering on the back of the stove, and it enticed her to have a cup of tea. She had to budget her money, but tea was the one indulgence she allowed herself. In the beginning she had made money by taking in washing and ironing for some of the soldiers at Fort Lambrick. She stared down at her hands, which had been rough and bleeding in those first days.
Nelly Aldrich was her best friend and the owner of the local boardinghouse—she was the niece of the man who had helped Caroline when she had boarded the stage in Galveston. With Nelly’s help, she had become a seamstress and was doing quite well at it. She made gowns for some of the ladies in town and most of the officers’ wives. Lately, she had earned a little extra money by teaching several soldiers how to read and write. She liked to keep busy, because then she had little time to think about her future or to worry about the past.
Although it was long past supper, she didn’t feel much like eating alone. She settled onto a kitchen chair waiting for her tea to steep. Glancing about the kitchen, which was small but cheery, she ran her hand over the red-and-white oilcloth that covered the scarred table and matched the checked curtains she had made for the window. The two sturdy chairs had been given to her by Nelly when she had helped her move into the house.
Nelly had taken Caroline under her wing, giving friendship without asking questions about her past. The two women had a lot in common, since Nelly’s husband had been wounded in the war and had later died, leaving her a young widow. But he had provided for Nelly by leaving her the boardinghouse, where Caroline had lived for her first year in San Sebastian. Caroline now lived in a three-room house that she rented from Mr. Liggett, who owned the General Merchandise—a store which boasted that it sold almost everything, and it practically did.
Caroline had just reached down to give Archimedes a crisp piece of bacon that had been left from breakfast
when she heard a knock on the door. For a moment her stomach tightened in knots as it always did when someone came unexpectedly to her house. She took a steadying breath when she heard Nelly call out to her.
“Caroline, you home?”
Caroline smiled as she opened the door. “I’m so glad you came by. You are just in time for a cup of tea.”
Nelly entered and thrust a covered dish at Caroline. “I baked a cobbler today and made some extra for you.”
Nelly was several inches shorter than her friend, and at twenty-three, two years older than Caroline. She had coffee-brown hair and soft brown eyes. She instinctively liked people, and her goodness had helped Caroline heal in spirit. Her friendship had given Caroline the strength to go on when she had wanted to quit.
She closed the door, and lifted the snow-white napkin so she could smell the delicious dessert. “You remembered that mulberry cobbler is my favorite.”
When the two women were seated at the table, their tea before them, Nelly placed her cup down and studied her friend carefully. Caroline was much too thin in her opinion, and Nelly worried that she didn’t eat enough to sustain her. She knew that most nights Caroline would be seated in the dim lamplight working on her sewing.
A wisp of Caroline’s light blond hair had come loose from the tight knot secured at the back of her neck. Nelly suspected that her friend kept her hair pulled away from her face so she would appear older, but even the severe hairstyle did not hide the fact that Caroline was a beautiful woman with smooth skin and sky-blue eyes.
Nelly didn’t know exactly why Caroline had come to Texas. But when she had arrived she carried a letter from her uncle, recommending that Nelly look after the young woman. As a result of their meeting, Nelly had the best friend she had ever known.
Nelly traced her finger over the flower pattern on the teacup and frowned. “The talk around town is Captain Dunning asked you to go to the officers’ dance with him next Saturday.”
Caroline was clearly annoyed that everyone seemed to be interested in her life. “Yes, he did ask me.” She was ready for one of Nelly’s lectures.
Nelly frowned. “I also heard that you refused him.”
Caroline took a sip of tea before answering. “I had to. As it is, I will barely have time to finish Betty Bostick’s gown before the dance. I have no time for frivolous pleasures.”
“Is that what you think the dance is—frivolous?”
“Th . . . there was a time when I liked to dance. But I’m a widow now,” she stated forcefully.
“Since I’ve already poked my nose into your business, I may as well keep going. Don’t you think you’ve hidden behind those widow’s weeds long enough? Captain Dunning is a very fine gentleman, and he’s shown a partiality for you. Don’t you want a normal life, children?” She gestured around her. “Don’t you want to get out of this little house that belongs to someone else? What could have happened to you that makes you hide away like this? You hardly ever go anywhere or do anything.”
Caroline was getting the full blast of Nelly’s lecture this time. “If we are going to talk personally,” she retaliated, “you might ask yourself why you haven’t accepted Yance Grady’s offer of marriage. You know you love the man, and he clearly loves you.”
“Well,” Nelly said forlornly, thinking about her own situation, “I do care for Yance, but his daughter, Judy, doesn’t like me. I’m not sure I can be the mother she needs, with her resenting me like she does.”
“She is young. Give her time. She still remembers her mother and she is probably worried that you might want to take her place.”
“Do you really think that’s why she doesn’t like me?”
“I’m sure of it. You could make her change her mind. You are the kind of person who isn’t happy unless you can tell someone how to live their life, so give her the benefit of your wisdom.” Caroline smiled innocently when she saw Nelly glare at her. “If you set your sights on straightening out someone else’s life besides mine, you might have better results.”
“I’m not like that.”
“Oh, yes, you are. You seem to know exactly how I should live my life.”
“You aren’t living—you’re merely existing.”
“You may be right,” Caroline conceded grudgingly. “But this is just the way I like it.”
“Answer this one question, if you will: Why won’t you go to the dance with that handsome captain? People really are beginning to gossip about you keeping to yourself so much.”
Caroline fastened the wayward strand of hair back into her chignon and shook her head. “I can’t help what people think, and of course I would like to have children of my own, but it’s just not possible. I cannot draw anyone into my life or into my troubles—not even you, Nelly. I’m grateful that you have accepted me without knowing who I really am, or anything about my past. You must understand that it’s too dangerous for you to know what happened to me before I came here.”
Nelly watched Caroline’s face carefully. “That’s what you always say when you think I’m getting too close to the truth. But if you ever change your mind and want to talk, I’m a good listener—just know that no one will ever hear your secrets from me.” She reached out and placed her hand on Caroline’s. “I’m not asking you to tell me what you’re running from, or what makes you jump out of your skin every time a stranger comes to town. I’m just asking you to trust me as a friend if you decide you need to tell someone what you are hiding from.”
Caroline took a sip of tea, found it cold and pushed it aside. “I will never forget all your kindnesses toward me. I hadn’t a friend in the world when I arrived in San Sebastian. When I gave you the note from your Uncle Ralph, you took me in and gave me a place to stay. If you will remember, I told you that day that it could be dangerous for you to befriend me.”
“I know you were running from someone and you were afraid for your life. You were sick then, and so skinny that a good ole Texas breeze could have blown you away. I was not about to turn you away, and I’m glad I didn’t, because then I wouldn’t have known you as a friend.”
“I never had a better friend than you’ve been to me. Still, you need to understand something: The man who is looking for me will never give up until he finds me. He is dangerous, and he puts no value on human life.”
Nelly’s brow furrowed. “I’m not afraid, and you shouldn’t be either. You have friends in this town who will help you.”
“No one can help me, not even you. Please listen to me and hear what I’m telling you,” she said, leaning forward. “The man who hunts me is evil! He has committed unspeakable crimes.” Her voice trembled, and she put her hand to her throat. “You can’t imagine the things he’s done. I was a witness to his crime, and he can’t let me live.”
Nelly covered her mouth with her hand. “Why don’t we go to Sheriff Palmer and tell him your story? You can’t spend the rest of your life jumping at shadows.”
Caroline stood up, shaking her head, her eyes bright with fear. “I have already said too much. Please don’t tell anyone what I said to you tonight. There is nothing that the sheriff can do about this man. And know this: If I think my enemy is closing in on me, I will leave without telling you, and you will never hear from me again.”
“You can’t do that!” Nelly’s eyes widened with anger. “I would never know what happened to you.”
“I have done it before, and I will probably have to do it again. My enemy almost caught me once. I have little doubt he will try a second time.”
“I don’t understand how you can go through each day being afraid. After all, Caroline, this man is only human, and he can be stopped!”
Tears sparkled in Caroline’s eyes. “No, he can’t. This thing will not end until one or the other of us is dead. May God forgive me, because every day I pray for his death.”
“Then promise me this: If you ever think he’s found you, you will talk to me before you do anything hasty.”
“I promise you that I will do
whatever it takes to keep you from becoming embroiled in my troubles.”
Nelly stood and hugged her friend tightly. “I wish there was something I could do to help you.”
“You already have.”
Nelly was afraid for Caroline. She thought that if her friend only had a man to look after her, she might be safe. “You’re so pretty. A woman like you can’t live in the past all the time.”
“I have no future.”
“Don’t say that. It’s time for you to start living again.”
“Perhaps some day I can. But not yet.”
“I don’t understand you.”
Caroline wrinkled her nose. “But I understand you. You are trying to play matchmaker and find a husband for me.”
Nelly agreed with a grunt. “Well, maybe so. But—”
Caroline lifted the napkin and took another whiff of the cobbler. “Suppose I cut us both a generous slice?”
The town was quiet and most people had gone to bed hours before, but Caroline sat with her head bent, her needle darting hastily in and out of the green muslin. Wearily she sighed as she pricked her finger.
She was swamped by dread and too afraid to go to sleep. Her dream the night before had dredged up all of her old fears, and her conversation with Nelly hadn’t helped, either.
Her vision blurred, and she stopped to rub her eyes for a moment, considering whether she should leave San Sebastian—had she stayed too long? It hurt to think of leaving her friends, and especially Nelly. She had very little money, but she could start over again somewhere else. Perhaps she would go to California next time. Surely she could get lost in a place that far away.
Chapter Three
It was overcast, and a rainy mist hung low in the sky as Caroline fell into step with several other people who were headed toward the church at the edge of town. The sound of the church bells was muffled by a sudden heavy fog that swirled about them, and a strange eeriness permeated the air. It had been threatening rain all morning, and as the first drops fell, the group of people dashed beneath the awning of the General Merchandise store, seeking shelter.