When she had dried her eyes once more, she went on reading the precious journal, devouring every sweet word.
Hunter had made a full recovery and had returned to his cavalry unit for the duration of the war. During one battle, he had, as Larissa had feared he would, come face-to-face with his brother Jordan.
“He saved my life, Larissa, darling. True to the end,” Hunter wrote. “Another Reb had me in the sights of his gun, ready to pull the trigger and end my mortal life. Jordy threw himself in the path of the bullet, stealing my death for his own. God bless him and rest his soul! I never lost faith in my brother. As he lay dying in my arms, he confessed to me the terrible thing he had done to both of us. He told me how he had tricked you, then lied to me in order to create dissension between us. He begged my forgiveness and received it before he drew his last breath. We shall meet again someday as friends in the heavenly hereafter.”
Hunter had endured the rest of the war with no further injuries. He had returned to Bluefield with his old hound, Trooper, after Lee’s surrender. He told of his struggle to put Bluefield back to rights.
On a single, tear-stained page, he wrote a poem of tribute and remembrance to his faithful dog, who succumbed to old age. He told of burying Troop in the rose garden and having a fine piece of marble carved to mark the spot.
Hunter had never married again—never given up hope that someday Larissa might return. For the next forty years, he marked her birthday and their wedding anniversary in his diary and wished her happiness “wherever you may be, my dear, darling wife.”
The final entry was dated “November 27, 1905.” He wrote in a feeble hand,
“Winter is upon us again. The fields lie white with snow. And soon I will rest under that sheltering blanket. If there were time, my darling Larissa, I would write our story again, the way it should have been. I would begin, ‘Once upon forever, there was a lonely warrior who found his lovely maiden. He took her away to his castle called Bluefield and they lived happily ever after.’ But there is too little time left to record so much love—the love I have for you, my Larissa.”
Wiping tears from her eyes, Cluney closed Hunter’s diary slowly, savoring his final words.
When she returned to bed, she looked at her husband in a whole new light. She had loved him before, but now her love for Jeff Layton was total, all-consuming, everlasting. It was a love complete.
She slipped into bed beside him and let her arms steal around him. He smiled in his sleep.
“We’re together again, darling,” she whispered. “Once more under Bluefield’s roof, Larissa and Hunter will have their chance at a happy ending. And you and I, Jeff, through our love, will see that they get it.”
Jeff hadn’t heard Cluney’s exact words. He only knew that she was whispering to him and holding him tenderly. He’d been dreaming a wonderful dream.
“Once upon forever,” he said softly, “there was a lonely warrior who found his lovely maiden. He took her away to his castle called Bluefield and they lived happily ever after.”
He pulled her close and buried his face in her fragrant, moon-silver hair. “Do you know why, sweetheart?”
“Why, my darling?” she whispered back, feeling her heart flutter with love, hope, and desire.
“Because he loved her not just for now, but forever.”
“And she loved him,” Cluney replied. “She loved him across time and space and even across the moonbow.”
The moon showered its light through their window, shining its silvery gleam over the entwined bodies of the master and mistress of Bluefield.
They were together again … at last … for all time!
Author Notes
When I first visited Cumberland Falls with my husband and son in October of 1987, I knew that the magnificent setting would be perfect for a novel. The thunder of the falls, the riot of gold and scarlet autumn leaves, and the peace and silence of the forest seemed an ideal backdrop for romance. Then, too, I guessed the place was haunted.
When I returned to the falls in 1992, my story was already taking shape and a life of its own. I needed only to fit my characters into their proper setting. Old maps and photos were available at the Bob Blair Museum at the Dupont Lodge. With the help of staff members at the lodge and Ms. Kim Burchett of the Cumberland Falls State Park staff, I dug out some intriguing historical facts about the area. There had been stories of a silver mine under the falls. Reverend and Mrs. Renfro did run a recuperative facility for wounded soldiers at the edge of the falls during the Civil War. And they were forced to leave the area suddenly in 1875, under mysterious circumstances.
The moonbow fascinated me most of all. It spans Cumberland Falls in the Daniel Boone Forest near Corbin, Kentucky, and is one of two such phenomena in the world. The only other lunar rainbow can be seen at Victoria Falls on the Zambezi River at the Zambia—Zimbabwe border.
On clear nights when the moon is full, or nearly so, the moonlight turns the mist around the falls into a luminous arc—sometimes silvery-white, on other nights faintly shimmering with all colors of the rainbow. Known as the Niagara of the South, Cumberland Falls is 60 feet high, 120 feet wide, and sends ten thousand gallons of water per second crashing down on the boulders in the gorge. A magnificent sight, day or night!
Cumberland Falls is a favorite haunt of students from nearby Cumberland College, in Williamsburg, Kentucky. They’re always eager to talk about the many legends that surround the falls and its moonbow. Long ago, the Shaw-nee Indians worshiped the falls, believing that the moon-bow had mystical powers. Visitors have long reported seeing the “Bride of the Falls,” a lovely, weeping woman, gowned all in white. Others have seen faces in the moon-bow or heard ghostly wailing on full-moon nights.
So the next time you find yourself in the mountains of Eastern Kentucky, don’t miss your chance to see the moonbow, and perhaps a whole lot more!
Becky Lee Weyrich
Unicorn Dune
St. Simons Island, Georgia
July 11, 1993
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Once Upon Forever Page 29