by Conn, Phoebe
Sarah perched upon the edge of the rosewood chair opposite the settee where Erica had been seated reading berore she had joined her. Choosing her words with care, she broached another subject that troubled her. "Have you heard from your father? Is he still planning to arrive this weekend?"
"As far as I know, he is. I think he would have sent a wire if he'd been unable to get away." It was difficult for Erica to smile as she resjDonded, since Viper's presence was giving her strong misgivings about the outcome of her father's visit.
"It will be interesting to hear what he has to say about Etienne," Sarah mused thoughtfully.
"Well, I certainly hope that he likes him, too," Erica wished aloud, but she was deeply concerned about what her father would think of the "Canadian" who had joined their household. Sarah was perceptive enough to realize something about Viper's story rang false, but would her father take one look at the deep bronze of his skin and the jet black of his hair and know he had more Indian blood than French? It would then be a simple step to guess just which Indian he was. Both she and Viper had gone out of their way to avoid each other since their confrontation in her bedroom. But wouldn't the strained aloofness of their relationship make her father suspicious? While she was still looking forward to her father's visit, her fears were running high that it might end in disaster.
Sarah folded her fan and tapped it lightly against her knee as she tried to appear merely considerate of Lars rather than fascinated by him. "I think it will be very nice for your father to get away from the hospital for a few
days' rest."
"Yes, and diat rest is long overdue. He works much too hard, but that's his choice, I'm afraid."
Sarah nodded agreeably, but her curiosity was still not satisfied, and she continued to try and draw Erica out about her father. "I think his reasons for wanting to occupy his time are understandable. He must have been very deeply in love with your mother and miss her terribly."
That was one thing about her father Erica knew for certain. "Yes, I'm sure he does. They were a very dose and loving couple."
Sarah studied Erica's pensive frown, thinking her thoughts must be of her mother. Still, Lars had teen a widower for more than three years, and the pain of his loss must surely have begun to subside. "You said he's just turned forty, didn't you?"
"What?" Erica asked, then realizing Sarah was still talking about her father, she relaxed slightly. "Yes, in May, our birthdays are just two days apart."
While she had done her very best to catch his eye, Sarah had had absolutely no success in gaining Lars Hanson's notice during the winter months she had spent in Washington. He had treated her with courtesy anorespect, but never as though she were a young woman he might grow to love. That he had no romantic interest in her had both infuriated and saddened her, but she had not known what to do about it. Now that she had finally summoned the courage to discuss Lars with his daughter, desperation made her bold. "Do you think he'll remain a widower forever, or is there a chance he might remarry someday?"
There had been an occasion or two when Erica had suspected Sarah's regard for her father might have been more than merely gratitude for what he had done for her brother. She had always had far too much on her mind to inquire whether that were truly the case, as indeed she did still, but since Sarah had finally asked a Question that could be interpreted as expressing interest, she decided to encourage her. After all, the more distractions her father had, the less likely he would be to realize who Etienne Bouchard really was.
"I think my father is too devoted to his profession at
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present to have any thoughts of women. It's unfortunate, too, as I would hate to see him spend the rest of his life alone."
"You'd not object then, if he did become interested in someone?" Sarah held her breath, hoping Erica didn't realize how desperately she wanted to be that particular someone.
Erica knew she and Sarah had not grown nearly as close as they should have considering the vast amount of time they had spent together. She also felt she had to accept the blame for that herself, since from the first day she had returned to Wilmington she had been so anxious about her own problems she had had little interest in cultivating Sarah's mendship. First there had been the matter of her marriage to Viper to create tension between them, then the pain of Mark's long convalescence, coupled with the burden of a pregnancy she had kept hidden until the last possible moment. Now, hoping to make up for her lack of attentiveness in the past, Erica offered what she thought would be helpful advice.
"If you are sincerely interested in my father, I think you should simply tell him that you find him an attractive man and would like to know him in other than a professional capacity. You have always seemed so terribly shy around him, I doubt he realizes you have any feelings for him one way or the other."
Sarah's large brown eyes widened in surprise, for she simply couldn't believe her ears. She knew how to attract a man's notice and flatter his vanity with innocent flirting, but then it was up to him to respond. With a man like Lars Hanson, who had completely failed to notice her desperate attempts to impress him, she didn't know what more to do. To speak of her feelings seemed not only forward, but foolish. What if he were merely embarrassed, or worse yet, laughed at what would surely be a halting declaration of love?
"Oh no, I couldn't say something like that to him. I simply couldn't," she insisted with a bashful blush. "Since I was a young girl, men have always liked me. I've never had to chase them. It would be much too awkward a situation for me to endure, and I think your father would be as embarrassed as I would be if I tried to encourage his
attentions in such a fashion. No, I just can't do it."
Although exasperated with the young woman's unwillingness to take matters into her own hands, Erica knew her father needed love and affection as much as anyone did. Since Sarah was the only woman she knew who was interested in him, she wanted to help her. "Would you like for me to discuss the matter with him? You'll join us for dinner while he's here, won't you? If I suggest he might enjoy getting to know you better, would you object?"
Sarah opened and closed her fan quickly, the nervousness of her gesture accurately reflecting her mood. Finally she took a deep breath and agreed. "Will you promise to be discreet? I wouldn't want Lars to think I was behind whatever comments you make. If he laughs, or says he doesn't care to know me any better, or however he responds, will you tell me? I'd rather know where I stand than go on like this just hoping he might one day notice me."
"I'm certain he has already noticed you, Sarah. Don't be silly. I will be extremely discreet, and I'll let you know what he says, too, but I think it will be complimentary. After all, you are a very attractive woman, and your company is always enjoyable."
Sarah looked at Erica a long moment, then realized she was serious. "Why, thank you, that's a very sweet thing for you to say."
"I mean it, too." Erica's smile was quite genuine then, but by the time Sarah had left, she had realized she should take her own advice and be more direct herself. After dinner when Mark went up)stairs to rest, she told Viper she needed to speak with him in the parlor. While she knew it wouldn't be easy to talk with him, it was something she couldn't delay. Like Sarah, he chose the chair opjx)site the settee, but then moved it so close their knees were nearly touching.
"You could have come to my room any night," Viper whispered softly. "My door has always been open."
"Please, I didn't ask to speak with you to plan a midnight rendezvous," Erica admonished him in a voice as low as his. But the teasing light in his eyes didn't waver, and she doubted he believed her. "My father should arrive here Saturday. He plans to stay several days, and I'd like
for you to make up one of your fanciful excuses and sf)end your time elsewhere while he's here. He's far too clever a man to be so easily fooled as Mark or his sister, and if he realizes you, there will be hell to pay."
Viper frowned slightly as he considered her request, but he promptly refusedit
. "There are many Frenchmen who marry Indian women. He might guess I have mixed blood, but why should that upset him? If he knows anything about me, then he will think I am in prison at Camp McClellan. He won't expect to find me here."
"I read that some braves were acquitted of all charges, but their names weren't listed in our paper. Weren't you one of them?" Erica had assumed he must have been.
A slow smile played across Viper's lips as he shook his head. "Tell me what happened to your hand, and I will tell you how I left Minnesota."
Erica looked down at her hand. She had been using her left hand to cover the scar upon her right for so many months that it had become an unconscious habit. Viper had obviously noticed the scar, despite her attempts to conceal it. "No, you tell me your story first," she insisted, embarrassed that for the rest of her life her hand would bear a reminder of Wren's attack.
Viper laughed at her shyness, but gave in. "All right. I will go first." He needed a few minutes to describe his escape and the help he had received from Percy McBride. He gave Percy full credit for teaching him enough about behaving like a gentleman to allow his ruse to succeed, but he had railed to anticipate Erica's astonished reaction.
"If you escaped, then surely the army must be looking for you, and it's only a matter of time before they come here," she exclaimed excitedly. "Oh Viper, this is awful."
The handsome brave dismissed her fears with a careless shrug. "The army has better things to do than look for me. Erica. No one will come here to arrest me. Now tell me what happened to your hand. That was the bargain we made."
Erica was too upset by his tale to phrase her own story well. "I cut myself," she finally lied.
Viper reached out to take her hand in his and turned it over. "Do you remember the first day I came here? When I kissed your hand I saw the new scar and discovered it also
crossed your palm. I did not have a chance to ask you about it that night, but I have been very curious. Would you rather I asked Mark what happened to his lovely bride's hand?"
At the mention of her husband's name, Erica yanked her hand from him. "No, you mustn't bother Mark with such silly questions."
"Then you must tell me the truth yourself." Vip)er's sly grin was an insult in itself. "You are very good at fooling everyone else here, but with me you must speak the truth."
"How dare you accuse me of fooling people when you tell nothing but lies?" Erica found it difficult to make her point in a whisper, but she hoped that she had.
Again Viper shrugged nonchalantly, unconcerned by the hostile nature of that query. "I have no other choice."
"And you think I do?" Erica gave him no opportunity to reply before she continued in a breathless rush. "Well, I don'tl" Disgusted that he took such delight in turning everything she said against her, she angrily admitted the truth. "Wren tried to kill Mark and me. Obviously she didn't succeed."
"What?" Viper reached for Erica's wrists, holding her fast so she could not escape him, forgetting that the advanced stage of her pregnancy would have made a hasty exit impossible to affect. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Erica shook her head. "What good would it do? It's over and done. The army had her in custody when we left."
"Well, the army must have let her go," Viper explained angrily. "I saw her at Fort Snelling. She was dancing along the dock, waving to us when our boat stopped there."
While she was disappointed to hear that. Erica was more disappointed that she had allowed Viper to lead their conversation so far from its original purpose. "You won't even consider leaving here for a few days? I just don't want any more grief than I already have, and from my father."
"Is that all I am to you now?" Viper asked as he released his hold upon her. "A cause for grief?"
"I told you when you came here that I wanted you to go," Erica reminded him crossly, hoping he would not notice she had not answered his question. To have him so near and yet out of reach was not merely grief,
it was agony.
Her averted caze told Viper more than Erica wished him to know, but ^ter first looking over his shoulder to make certain they were not being observed, he leaned forward to kiss her with a passion so unmistakable that he laughed at her shocked glance when he drew away. "If that is your idea of grief, you are very wrong. All I taste in your kiss is love." With a wicked grin and a jaunty stride he left the parlor, but a long while passed before Erica found the strength to leave her place.
When Lars reached Wilmington, he stopped first at the cemetery at Old Swedes' Church to spend some time with his wife before going home. Missing Eva every bit as much as he had the day of her funeral, he stood at the foot of her grave and thought about all the things he wished he could tell her. He was accustomed to sharing his problems with her and doubted he would ever get used to the fact that it was no longer possible. There were several doctors at the hospital with whom he had become friends, but talking with them just wasn't the same.
Eva had oeen an extraordinarily devoted wife, and Lars had adored her. She had been so proud of the fact that in 1638 one of her ancestors had sailed with the first Swedish expedition to the Delaware River. Since his relatives had not arrived for another fifty years, she had often teased him that her family had played a far more important part in Wilmington's history than his had. It was a point he was willing to concede now that she shared the same hallowed ground so many of the early settlers occupied.
What would Eva think of the way he had raised their daughter? he wondered silently. Indeed, he was afraid he would have to admit to his wife that Erica had rsdsed herself. That Eva would never see their grandchild broke his heart anew, and brushing the tears from his eyes, he bid his dear wife good-bye and promised to return to see her again soon.
By noon on Saturday, Erica was nearly beside herself with worry. Since Viper had stubbornly refused to leave,
she held to the slim hope that he would be able to fool her father as effectively as he had everyone else. When she heard Lars come through the front docff, she remained in the parlor and called out to him. When he appeared at the door, he seemed to think her condition a sufficient excuse that she had not gone running to meet him.
First and foremost a physician, as soon as Lars sat down with his dau^ter he immediately inquired about her health. "Are you feeling well? Not getting too tired?" he asked as his ^ance swept her delicate features and noted the clear signs of stress.
"I am very tired of being pregnant. I would have the baby this very afternoon if I had my way." Erica tried to laugh and sound as though she were joking, but she wasn't. She wanted the babe bom, hopmg it would be easier to face whatever consequences the child brought than to continue worrying about them. "Could you arrange to deliver the child while you're here?"
Lars refused graciously. "No, I'm afraid children choose their own time to be bom, and usually a most inconvenient one. You've spoken with the midwife, haven't you?'*
"Yes, Mrs. Denenberg promises to arrive within ten minutes from the time I send for her."
"Don't send for her too early, sweetheart. Unfortunately, first babies are usually bc»rn after a lengthy labor. I hope you'll be lucky, however, and have as easy a time as your mother did. She produced you with such little effort, it is a shame all women do not ^ve birth so easily." He turned then as he heard Mark's voice out in the hall. "How is Mark doing?" he asked as he rose to his feet.
"He is better," Erica assured him, but then had to be honest, "but still not himself, and I fear he never will be."
Mark entered the parlor then. Viper at his side and a small striped kitten m his hands. "Look what we found. Erica!" he exclaimed happily. She always chose the same place to sit so he would have no difficulty finding her and could always sit by her side.
The instant Erica saw the kitten she sent Viper a questioning glance, for the tiny animal had the exact same coloring as the tomcat they had left behind at the farmhouse, complete to the white rings around its eyes and
the bright orange nose. She quickly caught h
erself, however and spoke to her husband rather than the Indian. "What an adorable kitten. Where did you find him, or is it a her?"
"Edenne says it is a torn," Mark responded as he held the kitten out to her. "We were walking down by Brandywine Creek and heard him meowing. He was either lost or abandoned, and we thought we should bring him home."
"Hello, Mark," Lars greeted his son-in-law warmly, then turned to Viper. "I am Lars Hanson, Erica's father."
"How do you do, sir." Viper shook Lars's hand, then looked down at Erica with a triumphant grin when after a casual glance the man turned his attentions back to Mark. He stepped aside and at his first opportunity volunteered to go find a basket to serve as the kitten's bed.
"Ask Mrs. Ferguson for some scraps of flannel or other soft fabric," Erica called out as he went toward the door.
"I will do that, madam," Viper replied politely, but again his glance was a defiant one.
Erica held her breath, waiting for her father to inquire about Etienne, but he did not. Instead, he sat down and talked at length with Mark, or at least he attempted to make some sense of the rambling conversation that ensued, since Mark was more interested in playing with the kitten than in talking. Then Sarah arrived and the kitten was banished to the pantry while they had dinner.
Not tasting a single bite, the distraught Erica kept expecting her father to leap from his chair and at the very least chaflen^e Viper to a duel, but again the conscientious physician paid her husband's companion scant attention. When Mark went upstairs to rest, and Viper went out to the stable to tend his horse, she announced that she also intended to take a nap, and with an encouraging smile to Sarah, she left her alone with Lars.
While he was as surprised as Sarah to suddenly find himself alone with her, Lars delighted the young woman by suggesting they go for a stroll in the garden. They took the kitten out with them, and laughed as he ran about on wobbly legs chasing butterflies.