“What is the reason?” Lauryn asked. For, indeed, it seemed simple enough an answer.
The man shrugged his massive shoulders in a rather boyish gesture. “She’s lost. I asked Laura…I told her where Brand was. She just shook her head and cried and I don’t know how I understood….but I did. I have to find the part of her that was lost here…during her life. For some reason…I can’t figure it out…there has to be something else…but until I find out what happened to her…her body…she can’t go to him.” He shook his head and rubbed at the whiskers on his chin for a moment.
Then, angrily, he seemed to change, to turn on her like a rabid dog. Standing he barked, “I don’t even know you! Why the hell am I talking to you?”
Lauryn stood, too, so startled by his sudden change in demeanor that she was immediately provoked to defense. “Because…because it’s like you said. I’m the only one alive who understands what you’re lookin’ for.”
“You don’t understand anything!” he growled. “You’re just a pampered little southern girl who…”
“And you’re far too steeped in self pity to see anyone else’s…” she began to argue back at him. His words had hurt her deeply. Far more deeply than a stranger’s words should have the power to.
“Save your self-righteous lectures for someone who will benefit from them, girl.”
His voice was filled with anger. Anger and pain. Lauryn knew that whatever had happened to Brant Masterson in the war, whatever horrible event had left him blind, had also left him worthy of owning resentment and self-pity. But the path was set now.
“All right,” was all she could stammer as the tears filled her eyes. “Good day to you, Mr. Masterson.” And she turned to leave him.
She was halted, however as Brant reached out and took her arm. “Hey, Laura…” he began to apologize.
“My name is Lauryn,” she spat at him. For some reason she didn’t fully understand, Lauryn wanted to be sure he knew the difference between her name and her great aunt’s.
“Lauryn,” he corrected himself. “I’m…I’m sorry I was rude to you. I’m just….not the person I used to be.”
“Well, that’s a conscious choice you’ve made, Mr. Masterson,” Lauryn stated, finding it hard to easily forgive him for his abuse of her emotions. “I have absolutely no doubt that you have endured more…more torture than I can ever imagine. But if you were once a man of character, of manners…you still are. Or else you’ve chosen not to be. Now…if you’ll excuse me,” she said, her voice breaking and betraying her emotion. Pulling her arm from his grasp, Lauryn stepped over men and cots, making her way back to the passenger car.
“Miss Kensington!” she heard him call after her. “Lauryn, wait!”
The tears were streaming down her face. Somehow Lauryn felt as if this man she’d known for mere minutes, this stranger, had reached into her chest and taken her heart in his hand, crushing it in the power of his masculine, callused fist. She could not return to him, even to accept an apology! For what would he think of a girl who became so emotional over a stranger’s opinions?
“Lauryn? Honey?” she heard her Nana call.
But she rushed on. Reaching the door leading to the passenger car, she fairly burst through it causing startled passengers to look up curiously. Lauryn noted the many sets of eyebrows that rose, astonished to see a young woman in tears charging toward her seat. Self-consciously, she sat down next to the window that such a short time before had been the object of her reflection. She marveled at the difference in the image looking back at her now. In an hour’s time she’d gone from an innocent, sweet girl looking forward to returning home to family and friends, to a young woman who knew sudden and immediate heartache at the hand of a complete stranger!
He knew her! Brant Masterson knew Lauralynn! All these years that Lauryn had been searching for her…trying to find where and when she died so the Captain could rest…all this time, Brant had known her. It was unfathomable! Surreal!
“Honey, whatever is the matter?” Nana asked as she took the seat next to her granddaughter. Taking Lauryn’s hand she kissed the back of it tenderly and reached up smoothing a stray curl from Lauryn’s cheek.
For a moment, Lauryn could only shake her head, trying to stop her tears and swallow the lump in her throat. Finally she turned to her Nana and quietly asked, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Nana looked away guiltily for a moment. “About a boy who saw Lauralynn?” Lauryn nodded. Nana smiled. “Because I feared it would plague you to know that Laura was found…by someone. I feared it would frustrate you to know it…. make you unhappy and cause you to see your search for her as pointless.”
Lauryn nodded, instantly understanding the wisdom in her grandmother’s secrecy. For Lauryn knew herself. And it would’ve, indeed, plagued her and caused her great unhappiness had she known of Brant and his association with Lauralynn.
“Oh, Brant. You’ve found us, then.” Lauryn looked up having heard her Nana’s greeting. Brant stood there, his hand on Dr. Nelson’s shoulder.
“Nana,” Lauryn whispered as her grandmother motioned for Dr. Nelson to seat Brant directly across from Lauryn. “Don’t leave me with him,” she pleaded in an even softer whisper as her grandmother stood.
“I’ve got to…finish makin’ the arrangements with Dr. Nelson, Lauryn. If we’re to have a guest…there’s things I should know,” Nana explained. Then, much to Lauryn’s astonishment, her Nana, still holding Lauryn’s hand, placed it in Brant’s. He held it tightly, signaling that there was no escape this time. He would have his say with her.
“Thank you, Doc,” Brant mumbled.
“Y’all be good, Captain,” Dr. Nelson warned. Brant nodded his frown deepening.
“Nana?” Lauryn pleaded.
“You have a good long talk with Mr. Masterson, honey. It’s about time. Don’t you think?” And with that Nana accepted Dr. Nelson’s arm and left her granddaughter in the company of the strange and unnervingly attractive Brant Masterson.
Lauryn immediately tried to pull her hand from Brant’s grasp. It was completely unsettling the way he held her fingers in both of his hands now, stroking the backs of them lightly with his thumbs. But he held tight, foiling any attempt to escape him without causing a disturbance. Instantly, Lauryn felt her tears begin anew, traveling the still moist path down her cheeks as she looked at the handsome, haunted man before her. He frightened her! The feeling in her bosom, as if she might explode with delight and pain at the same time as she looked at him, frightened her.
“I’m sorry,” he said plainly and very sincerely. “I…I’m a brute. I had no right to bite your head off like that. And you’re right…I am an ill-mannered, rude…devil. Swearing in front of women. My Aunt Felicity would skin me alive.”
“I had no right to place a judgment on you. I….” Lauryn began her own apology.
“Yeah, you did,” he interrupted. “You were right, too. I let my pride get the better of me…again,” he explained. “Blindness forces you to let other people care for you…serve you. And I’m not humble enough to accept it at times. My pride reacts with cruelty.”
“You were injured…blinded servin’ others. You should allow people the opportunity to show their gratitude by serving you,” Lauryn told him, again trying to gently pull her hand from his.
Her thoughts were stalled as he drew her hand toward his face and seemed to inhale deeply as if…as if he were…yes! He was smelling her.
“Good advice,” he admitted. “But very difficult to initiate when you’re Brant Masterson.” Again he seemed to inhale deeply the scent of her skin. “Do you forgive me then?”
“I don’t have any reason…” she began unable, for some reason, to find more words.
“You owe me an apology in return,” he told her as her silence wore on.
“I know. I’m sorry for my judgment. I…”
“Not that. You had every right to treat me badly. I mean, an apology for running off so that I could not offer
my apology on the spot. Running from a blind man. How heartless.”
Lauryn’s brow puckered into a hurt and ashamed frown until she saw the grin spread across his handsome face. He was teasing her. Yet, his making light of his injury was painful as well.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered softly.
Then to her surprise, Brant kissed the back of her hand lightly before releasing it and straightening his posture.
“Now…all apologies aside…what’s he like?” he asked bluntly.
“Who?” Lauryn asked in return. For the first time in years, her mind was void where the word ‘he’ was concerned.
“Your captain,” Brant chuckled. “What’s he like?”
“Oh!” Lauryn exclaimed, rather embarrassed that she hadn’t instantly known to whom Brant was referring. “He’s…he’s wonderful. And miserable without his lady.”
“He’s haunted in his own right,” Brant mumbled, his enticing grin fading as his head fell defeatedly back against the seat. “I know the feeling. Being haunted.”
Yes, haunted! And Lauryn could not begin to fathom the frustration and pain that would’ve been heaped upon her if she had only been able to see the Captain. Never to hear his voice in conversation. Only to see him sad and alone and begging for her help the way it seemed Brant saw Lauralynn.
"Before I'd see her…" Brant paused and put a hand to one of the bandages at his eyes. "When I could see her…I'd hear her name…like a whisper on the wind and a sweet fragrance of some flower would wash over me. It was so strong…like nectar that you could breathe in. ‘Lauralynn’ is all I've ever heard of her voice."
"And you know everythin’? The stories? The reason…" Lauryn prodded. She was curious, suddenly. Did he know something she did not? Something that would help her…help them find Laura? Could it be, she wondered suddenly? Had she found, in Brant, the help she’d needed, the help they’d both needed to end the mystery?
"No. Not everything. I know she’s lost…I know that she was married to Brand Masterson, my grandfather's brother. I know that she died during the Battle of Franklin and that she was never found. I know the stories from my Aunt Felicity and your grandmother. And from Laura nodding yes and no to questions I have asked her. And now…" His voice became deeper and angry. "Now I’ll have no way to communicate with her.” He reached up and began tugging on the bandages at his eyes. His anger had returned. His frustration full-fledged.
"You mustn't!" Lauryn scolded taking his hands in her own. "The doctor is obviously hopeful that your sight may be saved. And you must follow his instruction. You must not lose hope or damage your sight further because of frustration."
"Sweet thing," he mumbled, the slightest of wistful grins capturing his mouth again. "I have been blind for near to four months. They have operated on me now…given my father false hope. False hope helps no one."
"But…but you saw me," Lauryn reminded him trying to ignore the thrill that traveled through her at the thought of his sudden kiss in the boxcar.
"I saw you as if you were standing in a thick fog, Miss Kensington. Enough to know where to reach to molest you…not enough to know whether or not you resemble your great aunt."
Lauryn was disappointed. Deeply. She had thought he had seen her more clearly and that her familiarity of spirit had prompted him to kiss her. And yet, she had hoped the opposite. She knew that she did not want this man's attention simply because she resembled his fragrant lady ghost. But for the first time since she was eight years old, Lauryn silently wished she did bare some resemblance to the lost lady, Lauralynn.
"Well, do not be too disappointed, Mr. Masterson. I don't look like her, " she mumbled. “And you far from molested me, sir.”
“My Aunt Felicity would disagree,” he told her flatly. “I…I awkwardly beg your forgiveness for that as well.” His apology sounded less than sincere.
“Because your Aunt would expect it of you?” Lauryn asked him.
“Exactly.”
“Then I refuse it,” she stated. “Now…back to our previous subject…I wonder, does Lauralynn…”
“You refuse it?” he exclaimed leaning toward her suddenly. “You can’t refuse that apology.”
“I can too. And I do.”
“But it’s…it’s rude. And after the way you scolded me for being rude. Anyway, I thought southern girls were always the epitome of propriety.” The expression about his mouth was that of being completely taken back.
“It’s not rude. What’s rude is to apologize when you don’t mean it. Now…do you want me to talk to you about our special…. acquaintances or not?”
Brant sighed with relief and shook his head, actually grinning again. “Yes… if you can keep from being so rude. And besides,” he added, lowering his voice, “You’re right. I withdraw my apology for molesting you. It was the first time I’ve felt like a real man in over four months. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman faint from one of my kisses. I guess there’s hope for me yet.”
Lauryn blushed and looked about to see if any of the passengers may be eavesdropping. He was oddly incorrigible, this handsome, haunted, wounded soldier.
“Very well,” Lauryn began feeling completely unsettled, and yet somewhat triumphant in helping him avoid another outburst like the one in the boxcar. “What do you know?”
Lauryn found it hard to concentrate on the subject of the Captain and Lauralynn, however. Brant’s presence seemed to dominate every sense she owned.
“I told you,” he reminded her. “She died, he died. It was tragic and an unsolvable mystery.”
“Oh, you have to know more than that. I could learn that much from the family bible.”
He sighed in irritation, before speaking. “Laura loves her husband. She is lost and wandering without him.”
“How does she appear?” Lauryn asked. “What’s she wearin’?”
Brant shrugged his shoulders as if his answer were inconsequential. “A dress, true to the times…blue…soaked with bright red blood at her stomach.”
“What?” Lauryn gasped in horrified astonishment.
“It was a wound to her abdomen. Wasn’t it?
“Well, yes. But….” Lauryn was distracted, imagining the horror of a young child having to be haunted by a ghost soaked in blood.
“And she wears a gold locket and two rings,” he added as if it were no strange thing to be haunted by such an apparition. He spoke as if he wasn’t in the least disturbed about Lauralynn’s appearance. Of course, he’d had over twenty years to get used to the sight of her that way. “Is your Captain still in uniform?” he asked.
“Um…yes,” Lauryn stumbled, still overwhelmed by Brant’s description of Lauralynn.
There was silence between them then. Each seemed to be lost in thoughts of their ghostly counterparts.
At last, it was Brant who spoke first. “How will I help her when I can’t see her anymore, Lauryn?”
At that moment Lauryn, finally, sensed the true depth of Brant’s pain. Not only was he blinded, unable to see the world, unable to be fully self-reliant, but his only method of communication with Lauralynn, his own lost lady, was gone.
“How are you feelin’, Brant dear?” Nana asked upon returning at that moment with Dr. Nelson.
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “It wasn’t me that got assaulted in the wounded car.” Smiling he said, “I’d wink at you teasingly Miss Lauryn Kensington…if I could.” Dr. Nelson and Nana both chuckled with amusement. But Lauryn was not amused. She understood now, how devastating his injury had been to his soul.
Nana settled herself in the seat next to Brant. “Well, my sweet soldier boy,” she began. “It’s all settled. You’re comin’ home with Lauryn and me to Connemara House until your dear brother can come for you.” Nana patted Brant’s hand maternally but his smile faded.
“I thought Parker was meeting me in Memphis, Dr. Nelson,” Brant said. Lauryn saw his hands tighten into fists at his sides.
“There’s…. there’s
been some sort of delay, Brant. He can’t come for another week or so,” Dr. Nelson explained.
“So strap the two Florence Nightingales with the invalid, is that it?” Brant mumbled.
Lauryn was shocked as her Nana slapped the man softly on the mouth. “That’s enough of that, Brant Masterson!” she scolded. “We’ll have none of that self pity from you. Do you hear me?”
Brant shook his head. “You’re determined to leave me off with these compassionate ladies then, Doc?” Brant reworded his question, teasingly. Nana’s soft slap had obviously had its desired effect, for Brant had indeed brightened.
“Your sight will be restored, Brant,” the Doctor told him. “You’ve wasted near to all your patience, my boy…and I understand. But you treat these women the way you ought to. You hear?”
Brant nodded turning his face toward the window as if everything in him yearned to see out to the passing landscape. Lauryn was sure everything did.
“Yeah. I hear you,” Brant mumbled. “In that case…if I’m off to Franklin…I’m tired. Think I’ll sit right here and doze a bit. You’ll pardon me won’t you, ladies?”
Lauryn could see that his jaw was clinched in annoyance. She suspected it took every ounce of self-control he could muster not to fly into a rage at being passed about like a homeless puppy.
“That’s fine, Brant,” Dr. Nelson assured him. “You do need the rest.” Looking to Nana, Dr. Nelson winked and added, “I’ll be back to check on y’all later.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Nana said and the man took his leave.
Lauryn’s discomfort increased. It was impossible to tell if Brant was sleeping or not since his eyes were bandaged. So, for long moments, she and her grandmother simply watched the passing landscape. Soon the sun had set and Nana seemed to think a little private conversation was safe enough considering that Brant hadn’t moved a muscle in over thirty minutes.
“Well, my peach,” she began in a near whisper. “If this hasn’t been the grandest adventure either of us has ever had on a train…I don’t know what is!”
The Fragrance of Her Name Page 5