“Mom outbid the corporation that was trying to buy it. So Lexington loses it’s new shopping mall and we get an old house called Bluefield. Aren’t we lucky!”
Tears sprang to Cluney’s eyes. A million thoughts raced through her mind. She had been a bride at Bluefield once before. As Larissa Breckinridge, she had spent her honeymoon there. And she had tried desperately to bring Hunter back to his home, but she had failed. She thought of the man in Andrea Layton’s dreams—the Civil War hero, who had begged her to save his home. It had to be Hunter!
“Bluefield,” she repeated again.
Jeff was leaning close, staring at her oddly. “Do you know the place, darling?”
“Yes,” she whispered, “but I haven’t been there in a long, long time.”
Jeff drew her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. “It will be our home soon, sweetheart. We’ll live happily ever after there, and raise beautiful daughters and strong, handsome sons.”
Cluney clung to Jeff, trembling in his arms as she heard him repeat the very promise that she had made to Hunter so long ago. One thought imprinted itself on her mind: Jeff had a second chance at life and she had a second chance at love.
I must not fail my husband this time! I will not!
Chapter Eighteen
Three days later, Andrea Layton blew into Kentucky like a chic, diamond-studded whirlwind. Cluney had worried about transportation for the three of them. She certainly couldn’t haul Andrea around in her old van, and Jeff’s sportscar was a two-seater.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” Jeff had told her. “I’m sure Mom’s made arrangements. She doesn’t miss a trick.”
Andrea had, indeed, arranged things, ordering a chauffeured stretch-limo before she left California to be waiting at the airport in Kentucky. The chestnut-haired beauty who was Jeff’s mother—although she looked more like his sister, Cluney thought—traveled all the way across country wearing white. Cluney was amazed. The woman stepped off the plane after her long flight, looking as if she’d just leaped to life from the cover of a fashion magazine.
“My darlings!” Andrea called the moment she spotted them. “I’ve arrived!”
“So she has!” Jeff said, grinning down at Cluney. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. You’re about to meet the rest of the family.”
Cluney didn’t say anything. She just clung to Jeff’s arm and tried not to look as intimidated as she felt. Andrea certainly looked nothing like any mother-in-law Cluney had ever seen before. She looked more like a centerfold. At least Cluney had had the presence of mind to wear an attractive lavender summer suit instead of her usual jeans and T-shirt. That gave her some needed confidence.
Jeff swept his gorgeous mother into a bear hug. They were both talking at once, so Cluney couldn’t understand what either of them was saying. She stood back, forgotten for the moment and completely bewildered. But her time came soon enough.
The moment Jeff released Andrea, they both turned to Cluney, both smiling that blinding Layton grin.
“Mom, this is my beautiful, blushing bride.”
Cluney’s cheeks warmed even more when she realized that Jeff was speaking the truth about her hot-pink cheeks.
Andrea hugged her future daughter-in-law soundly, enveloping Cluney, not only in her arms, but in a cloud of expensive perfume. “Joy,” if Cluney’s nose did not deceive her.
“My dear, the pictures Jeff sent didn’t do you justice.” Andrea stepped back and beamed at her son. “She’s a beauty, Jeff!”
Jeff slipped his arm around Cluney’s waist and gave her a hug. “Don’t think I don’t know it, Mom! And she can cook, too.”
“Well, that will hardly be necessary. You see I intend to hire a full staff for Bluefield. Cook, housekeeper, butler, gardener, stable hands, trainer, and, of course, in time a nanny for my grandchildren.”
Jeff and Cluney shared a secret glance, rolling their eyes at each other.
“Mrs. Layton?” The husky, uniformed chauffeur interrupted their family reunion. “I am Pierce. Your car is ready whenever you wish.”
“Shall we, my dears?” Andrea invited, motioning toward the long, white limousine. “I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to see Bluefield.”
The mere mention of the name sent a shiver through Cluney. She wanted to see the place again, too, but still the thought frightened her.
“By all means!” Jeff answered. “We’re eager to see our wedding gift, aren’t we, Cluney?”
“Oh, yes!” she said, forcing enthusiasm. “I can hardly wait. This is really so generous of you, Andrea.”
“My pleasure, dear, believe me.”
Cluney had been worried about carrying on initial conversation with Andrea Layton. After all, the two women were worlds apart. Jeff’s mother would hardly care to hear about life in a coal miner’s shack, or the antics of Wooter’s raccoons, or old Redbird being born with a caul. But Cluney needn’t have been concerned about making conversation. With Mrs. Layton holding forth, no one else could get a word in edgewise. All Cluney had to do on the way to Bluefield was sit back, smile, and nod at the appropriate moments.
Before they arrived, Cluney realized that she adored Jeff’s mother. Andrea was pushy all right, but in the nicest sort of way. Mother and son were actually very much alike. It was impossible to love one without feeling genuine affection for the other.
It’s going to be a lovely life, Cluney pondered silently. Yes, a lovely life, indeed!
Cluney’s breath caught at her first glimpse of Bluefield. She felt as if she had once more crossed over the moon-bow into another time. The house stood—large, imposing, and handsome—just as she remembered it. Granted, it needed a good deal of work. A paint job was overdue, and some of the windows were broken. The garden was overgrown with weeds and brambles. But she could easily picture it the way it had been and would be again. Even the rose garden remained where Hunter’s mother had raised her prized blooms. Cluney half expected to see Hunter himself come striding out through the wide front door.
“Well, darling? What do you think?”
Jeff’s voice brought Cluney out of her reverie. “Wonderful,” she murmured. “It’s a real home!”
“I just knew you’d both love it!” Andrea enthused. Then she launched into plans to get the place into shape in time for the wedding. “You’ll want to be married here, of course. Won’t you, my dears? The broker told me there’s a gorgeous staircase inside that will be perfect for a bride’s entrance.”
“The stairway …” Cluney murmured, remembering her other wedding, but her words went unnoticed as Andrea chattered on.
Pierce pulled the limo up into the circular drive. Andrea was so excited, she couldn’t wait for him to open the door. She was out of the car in an instant and heading up the stairs to the veranda.
“Well, come on, you two!” she called back over her well-padded, white shoulder. “I can’t wait to see what Major Breckinridge has left for us. I adore antiques, don’t you, Cluney?”
Cluney didn’t answer. Andrea’s mention of Hunter’s name had set her heart racing. Had he really recovered and come back to Bluefield after she left him behind? Surely she’d know the answer to that question within minutes.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Jeff sounded concerned. “You look so pale suddenly.”
She forced a smile. “I’ll be fine, darling. It’s just all this excitement. Let’s go inside. I do want to see our new home.”
By the time Cluney and Jeff reached the house, Andrea had made an astounding discovery.
“Come in here, both of you!” she called. “You simply aren’t going to believe this. Why, it’s uncanny!”
They followed her voice to the front parlor, a sunny room Larissa Breckinridge had always loved. Andrea was standing before the fireplace, staring up at a portrait on the wall.
“Look at this! Can you believe it? Why, this could be you, Cluney!”
Andrea reached for C
luney’s hand and led her over to stand beneath Larissa’s wedding portrait.
“My, God!” Jeff breathed. “You’re right, Mom. I wonder who she was.”
“There’s a little brass plaque on the frame.” Cluney went up on tiptoe, pretending that she had to read the name. “Larissa Courtney Breckinridge,” she said.
“She must have been the major’s wife,” Andrea reasoned. She came closer then, and looked from the portrait to Cluney, then back at Larissa. “I simply can’t believe this. Larissa Breckinridge could be your double, Cluney. And this gives me the most wonderful idea. I’m going to have a wedding gown made for you exactly like hers. Won’t that be charming? And so appropriate since you’re to be married in her house.”
Cluney glanced toward Jeff. Yes, most appropriate, she thought, since I’ll also be marrying her husband.
Jeff, too, was staring up at Larissa. In the shadows of the parlor, he looked more like Hunter than Cluney had ever thought he could. Then she glanced up at Hunter’s portrait.
“That must be Major Breckinridge,” she said, pointing to the other gilt-framed picture.
Andrea exclaimed over the major’s handsome, brooding face, but failed to comment, if she saw any resemblance to her son. Perhaps only Cluney could see the similarities because she knew in her heart that they were there.
For the next hour, Cluney and Jeff explored the house while Andrea, with Pierce in tow to take notes for her, listed repairs that needed to be made before the wedding.
The last room Cluney and Jeff entered was Hunter’s bedroom—the room where he and Larissa had spent their honeymoon together. His things were still there—a clean uniform laid out as if he might come in at any moment to dress for some special occasion. His boots, dusty, but polished to a high gloss. His books, his papers, everything, Cluney noted, except his journal. Her heart fell. She had so hoped that she would find the old diary here and be able to read Hunter’s entries after that night of the moonbow.
“You look tired, sweetheart,” Jeff said suddenly. “Why don’t we go back outside and wait for Mom. Surely, she won’t be much longer.”
Cluney nodded, almost afraid to trust her voice. “Yes, I could use some fresh air.”
“You aren’t unhappy with the place, are you, darling?”
She forced a smile, trying to hold back tears. “Oh, no, Jeff! We belong here—both of us.”
Cluney slipped her arms around his neck and clung to Jeff for a moment. He lifted her chin with one finger. Staring down into her face, he said, “Tears? Why are you crying, Cluney?”
She bit her lips and shook her head. “It’s nothing, darling. There’s just such a feeling about this room. It’s almost as if he’s still here.”
“You mean you think it’s haunted?”
“Oh, no! It’s not that kind of feeling, Jeff. It’s a good, warm, welcoming sense I get. I love this room.”
“Then, that settles it!” he said with finality. “We’ll spend our wedding night here.”
Cluney smiled and blinked back the last of her tears. “Yes, I’d like that, darling. Very much!”
Before they headed outside, Jeff took advantage of their privacy to give Cluney a long, searching kiss. If Andrea hadn’t been downstairs, they might have begun their honeymoon at that very moment.
A short time later, they wandered—hand in hand—out to the rose garden. A few buds were sprouting, but the weeds seemed to have the upper hand.
“This will be beautiful once it’s been cleaned up and the roses pruned,” Jeff said.
“Yes, we’ll be able to smell the flowers even in the house—in the library especially.”
Jeff looked at her oddly. “Now, how would you know that, sweetheart?”
“Just guessing,” Cluney lied.
Walking slightly ahead of Cluney, Jeff stumbled on something and cursed loudly. “Would you look at this? It’s a grave right in the middle of the rose garden.”
Cluney caught her breath. She felt a coldness flood through her. She stood back as Jeff stooped to get a closer look at the headstone.
He laughed. “Just a family pet. A cat or a dog probably. The stone says, ‘Trooper’ and there’s a date.” He rubbed at the stone to remove years of dirt and lichen. “1865.”
Cluney dropped to her knees beside Jeff. She smiled as she rubbed her hand over the cool, old marble. “Good ol’ Troop,” she murmured, her heart brimming. This was her proof that Hunter had made it, that the uniform and other personal items in the house were really his, that he had lived long after she left him by way of the moonbow. He and Trooper had returned to Bluefield together.
Yes, Cluney thought, Hunter Breckinridge came home long years ago. And now, at last, his bride was about to return as well.
She glanced at Jeff, who was still kneeling beside her, pulling weeds from around Trooper’s stone. How could he ever know how much it meant to her that he loved her, that he was going to marry her, and that they were coming home to bring her story and her life full circle?
Someday, she thought. Someday, I’ll tell you everything, my darling.
The next weeks were the busiest of Cluney’s life. She and Jeff worked tirelessly, side by side with Andrea, setting Bluefield to rights. Painters, cleaners, gardeners, upholsterers—the place was awash in laborers for every job that needed to be done. As the day of the wedding approached, Cluney could almost feel Hunter’s shade, smiling down on them and nodding his approval. Blue-field now looked exactly the way it had when Larissa Breckinridge was a bride. Cluney remembered every detail and made sure that everything was just as it had been so long ago.
Early May found the engaged couple involved in a dizzying round of soirees. Parties for Derby and parties for the bride and groom overlapped, making every day more exciting than the one before it. The festivities culminated in a huge bash, hosted by Andrea Layton, the night before the wedding at the hotel in Lexington where they were staying. Everyone who was anyone was there. Hollywood friends of Andrea’s who had flown in from the West Coast for the wedding rubbed elbows with Kentucky’s horse fanciers as well as a dandied-up Wooter Crenshaw and old Miss Redbird in a bright sequin gown that she swore she meant to be buried in.
“Why this party’s near-about as grand as my wake’s gonna be,” she told the hostess.
Mr. and Mrs. George Washington Abraham Lincoln Freeman were there, too. B.J. and Free had eloped quietly a few days after their return to the present via the moon-bow.
“Our wedding wasn’t anything like as grand as yours is going to be,” B.J. told Cluney. “The justice of the peace was in his bathrobe, and his wife had curlers in her hair. But we’re married, good and proper, just the same.”
Free, darkly handsome in his tux and beaming with newfound confidence, smiled down at his wife. “We been married all the while,” he told her, “ever since we jumped the broomstick, way back when.”
B.J. looked solemn suddenly. She whispered for Cluney’s ears alone, ‘Tree’s right, you know. All that stuff really happened. For a while I thought I must have dreamed it. But I didn’t. I remember so clearly now, Cluney. Everything!”
Cluney nodded. “I know what you mean,” she said in a hushed voice. “I remember, too. It’s a pretty odd feeling, knowing that I’m about to be a bride at Bluefield for the second time. But it’s a good feeling, too. I won’t make the mistakes I made the first time.”
B.J. laughed gaily. “From the way you and Jeff look at each other, I’d say nobody’s making any mistakes. This marriage was meant to be, girlfriend. Meant to be so much that you managed to call back time to get your one and only. Does Jeff know?”
“Not yet,” Cluney whispered. “I’ll tell him, of course. But I have to wait for just the right time. It won’t be easy for him to understand. I’m not sure I understand it all myself.”
Free interrupted their private conversation just then. “Can I tell Cluney our news, sugar?”
“Tell me what?” Cluney asked. S
he looked at B.J., who was grinning from ear to ear.
“That me and my Belle are expecting,” he blurted out.
“Oh, B.J.!” Cluney hugged her friend. “That’s wonderful news!”
Jeff sauntered up just in time to hear. “Is that legal, sweetheart? A pregnant bridesmaid?”
Both women laughed. “It is if she’s my matron of honor, darling!”
The evening wore on, with more music, more champagne, more congratulations. By the time the last guest left, it was after midnight.
“Oh! I should have planned this better so that everyone would leave earlier,” Andrea fumed. “Get out of here, Jeff. Go to your own suite. You’re not supposed to see your bride on her wedding day.”
“It is, isn’t it!” Cluney cried. “This is the eighteenth of May!”
“It certainly is,” Andrea said. “And you need your beauty sleep.” Turning an adoring look on her son, Andrea relented, saying, “You may see Cluney to her door, Jeff, but no fooling around and don’t you dare go in with her!”
“Yes, Mother,” he answered.
Good to his word, Jeff left his bride-to-be at her door, with only a soft, sweet kiss to savor until they were officially man and wife. But before he said good night, he pressed the moonstone necklace into her hand.
“I almost forgot this,” he said. “B.J. gave it to me when she came in tonight. She said you’d lost it and a ranger up at the falls found it and asked her to return it to you. Here, let me put it on for you. I fixed the broken catch. I was sure you’d want to wear it with your wedding gown. After all, Larissa wore it, didn’t she?”
Cluney searched Jeff’s dark eyes. “How did you know that?”
He laughed nervously. “I’m not sure. I don’t even know why I said it. She must have been wearing it when her portrait was made. Yes, I’m sure she was.” Now, he was frowning at her, but at the same time some light of recognition seemed to be stealing into his eyes. “But how could she have worn your necklace?”
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