Three Books in One: A Covenant of Love, Gate of His Enemies, and Where Honor Dwells

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Three Books in One: A Covenant of Love, Gate of His Enemies, and Where Honor Dwells Page 83

by Gilbert, Morris


  “Certainly, Rachel. I suppose you want me to finish that cake?”

  “Yes, it’s going to be a flop, I think. You can take the blame, Vince. Now go tell Tad to hitch up the sleigh while I get some heavier clothes on.”

  “Wait a minute!” he protested. “I don’t have to have a keeper for a little trip to town.”

  “I need some things at the store,” she said, but he saw the wink she gave to Melora. “Go on, now. I’ll be quick.”

  In twenty minutes Jake was driving down the road with Rachel at his side, and despite the fact that he was worried about the meeting with Ellen, he enjoyed the ride. The snow was falling more gently, but it had rounded all the sharp hills to smooth cones and loaves, and the trees glistened like diamonds as the sun came out now and again to touch them.

  “I’ve been looking for an excuse to get out and play in the snow,” Rachel confessed. “I love it!”

  “It is pretty,” Jake agreed. “I like to see it fall like this, but it’s a mess afterward.”

  “You’d complain if they hung you with a new rope!” Her spirits were high because she was pleased to be outside, and the trip to town was a welcome break from the monotony of work. “Everything worthwhile is trouble.”

  He turned to look at her, noting that the snow had fallen on her hair where it had escaped from her hat, giving it a spangled effect. “What does that mean?”

  “Why, just what it says,” Rachel said, surprised at his question. “Didn’t you know that? I’ve known it for a long time. For instance, getting married is a lot of fun, so they say. What with the courtship and the wedding dress and the cake. But being married, that’s work! Still, you can’t just have a wedding without the marriage—so it’s worth it, they say. And look at babies, Vince. All nice and cuddly and cute, but they’re trouble, too—diapers and colic and Lord knows what else! So you see, everything worthwhile is trouble.”

  “Never thought of that.” He watched the snow as it fell on the backs of the horses and was pleased with their companionable silence as they traveled. The only sound was the soft plopping of the hooves and the slight crunching of the sleigh through the snow. After a while, he asked, “Is the opposite true, then? Are things that aren’t trouble worthless?”

  She thought about it, holding her hand out from under the canopy and letting the flakes settle on her palm. “No, it doesn’t work that way,” she said. “Look at this snow. And at how nice it is to be out in it. It’s no trouble, is it? But it’s not worthless. I can remember a lot of times that snow has brought me joy and laughter. Even today, it has brightened my day. Nothing that does that could be worthless.”

  She fell silent, then said, “It’s nice to have good memories, isn’t it? Then when the bottom falls out of things, you’ve got something to think about.”

  Jake said evenly, “I don’t think most people have as many good memories as you do, Rachel. Most of us don’t have sense enough to do the little things, and we miss out on memories like this.”

  They talked all the way to town, and when he pulled up at the store she indicated, she turned her face to him, saying, “What a nice trip! Thanks for insisting that I come!” When he told her she’d invited herself, she stuck her tongue out, then said, “Take your time. I’ll be here when you get ready to go back. Or if I’m not here, I’ll be over at Grant’s Café.”

  He left her and with some difficulty found the boardinghouse Finch had mentioned. It was a respectable enough place, Vince noticed as he tied the horses to the rail then went up on the front porch. When he knocked on the door, a tall, plain woman of fifty opened it. “I’m looking for Mrs. Rocklin,” he said.

  “Come in.” The woman stepped back, adding, “I’m Harriet Mulligan. It’s getting colder, isn’t it?”

  “Not too bad yet, but it could get worse.”

  “Mrs. Rocklin’s room is right at the top of those stairs, second door to your left.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Mulligan.”

  Jake climbed up the stairs, favoring his right leg. When he knocked on the door, it opened at once.

  “Hello, Vince,” Ellen said, stepping back to let him enter. “You made good time. I didn’t know it was going to snow like this or I’d have waited until later.” She was wearing a fashionable dress that was cut to flatter her figure, which was somewhat lush. Her hair was done up in what he supposed was the latest style.

  He took the chair she offered him, on his guard. “Is something wrong, Ellen?” he asked.

  “Have a drink, and we’ll talk about it.” She took a bottle from a cabinet and started to pour, then said, “But you like bourbon better than scotch, don’t you?”

  “That’s right.”

  She put the bottle down and looked at him with excitement in her large eyes. “No, you don’t like bourbon at all. You always insist on scotch.”

  Jake looked at her thoughtfully. Now at least he knew why he was there. What he didn’t know was if he could fool Ellen. He said in a bored voice, “I’ll take either one, Ellen.”

  Ellen admired the man’s poise and poured them two glasses of the scotch. When he picked up his glass, she lifted her own and made a toast. “Here’s to a profitable venture.”

  He stared at her, then drank the liquor. “What’s on your mind, Ellen?”

  She put the glass down and asked directly, “What’s your real name?”

  Jake shrugged. “You know my name, Ellen. And you know I don’t have time for games.”

  He got up to go, but she said quickly, “Do you remember coming over to play with my boys when you were twelve years old? The summer that Rena broke her arm?”

  “I guess I remember.”

  “That’s odd—because Rena never had a broken arm!” Triumph was in Ellen’s eyes, and she went on quickly, “But Vince Franklin did spend most of one summer at Gracefield. And he had a little accident. You don’t remember that? No, I didn’t think you would! But I remember it well enough. Vince and David were jumping off the loft into piles of hay, and Vince hit a sharp piece of wire that someone had left there. It wasn’t a bad cut, but it left a small scar.” She smiled and asked, “You don’t remember what shape the scar was in? No, I didn’t think you would. It was in the shape of a heart—a little lopsided, but a heart right between your thumb and forefinger. We joked about it quite a bit. I’m surprised that nobody else noticed it.”

  As he saw the triumph in the woman’s eyes, Jake knew there was no hope. “You’re a smart woman, Ellen. Nobody else noticed that, not even Vince’s mother or Rachel. I guess they’ve forgotten it.”

  Ellen lowered her voice, even though they were alone. “What did you do to Vince?”

  “I don’t think I want to talk about it.”

  “You don’t have any choice, don’t you see that?” She smiled at him, then said, “Too bad I’m a Rocklin—too bad for you, that is. I’ve heard about the will leaving the Franklin money to the oldest son when he reached twenty-five years of age. Most people don’t know that. When I saw your hand at the ball, I knew you weren’t Vince. It took me a little while to figure out the rest of it.”

  “What have you figured, Ellen?”

  “Why, it’s the money, of course!” she said with surprise. “Don’t take me for a fool—it has to be the money!” She looked at him carefully, then shook her head. “You look enough like him to be his twin. Did you kill him and take his place?”

  “No.”

  Ellen began to grow angry. “Then what’s it for, this masquerade?” Suddenly she had a thought, and a look of satisfaction appeared in her eyes. “Of course! That Vince! I know what he’s done … he found you and hired you to take his place. He’s got to be on the plantation to get the money, and he’s afraid that Duvall will kill him.” She saw his eyes widen as she spoke, then laughed. “I told you not to take me for a fool. Now where’s Vince?”

  Jake said slowly, “Ellen, I can’t tell you anything. I’m just a hired hand.”

  “Well, you can tell Vince that unless I get a slic
e of that big pie—there won’t be any pie!”

  “Yes, I thought we’d come to that.”

  “Sure you did,” she said swiftly. “You’re a smart boy. I like smart people.” She leaned forward and stroked his hand. “I’m going to enjoy doing business with you. What’s your real name?”

  “Jack Colt,” he replied without pausing.

  “Well now, Jack, I think we’re at the beginning of a beautiful friendship. How long will it take you to get word to Vince that he has a new partner?”

  “He’s in New Orleans. I’ll have to write him.”

  “Write today, or send a wire.”

  “He’ll never show his face around here, Ellen.”

  She studied Jake’s face, then nodded. “All right, get the letter off. Tell him I want half.”

  “You’re no piker, are you?”

  “Half of something is better than all of nothing, isn’t it? I know Vince. He’ll pay up.”

  “Yes, I think he will.” Jake got to his feet and started for the door. There was something evil about the woman, and he wanted to have nothing to do with her. “I’ll send the letter, but whatever you decide will be between you and him. I’m just a hired hand.”

  She came out of her chair and put her arms around his neck. “If something happened to Vince,” she whispered, “you and I would have all the money, Jack!”

  There was a heavy air of suggestiveness in the woman, and it repelled Jake. I’d as soon kiss a cobra! he thought as he pulled away, saying, “You’d better do your business with Vince.” Then he left the room.

  He climbed into the buggy and went at once to the telegraph station. If he could, he would just walk away from the whole situation. There was nothing keeping him at Lindwood, really. Nothing except the fact that he’d given Vince Franklin his word. And if there was one thing that could be counted on about Jake Hardin, it was that he didn’t break his word. For whatever reason, he had always stood by the promises or deals that he made. Some men would call it an innate integrity—for Jake, it was just the way things were.

  The message he sent to Vince was cryptic, one that the telegrapher could not understand enough to report to anyone. “Come at once. Deal going sour.”

  He paid for the wire, then left the office and went to find Rachel. She was still at the store and was surprised to see him so soon. “Let’s eat before we go back,” she said.

  They had a good meal, though Jake ate little, and the trip home was a delight to her, if not to Jake. It was dark by the time they pulled the team into the barn, and they made their way through the snow to the house.

  “Let’s just stand here and enjoy it,” she said. “Look, the snow is coming down in slanting lines!”

  “Pretty,” he said quietly as she turned to face him.

  “You got some bad news in town, didn’t you?” she said quietly. “I knew it as soon as you came into the store.”

  “You’re an observant woman, Rachel.”

  “What is it? Anything I can help you with?” Rachel wasn’t sure who was more surprised by her offer, Vince or herself.

  She still wasn’t sure about Vince—whether he was truly changing or if he was up to one of his schemes—but more and more she discovered that she wanted to believe in him. And as she watched him, an even more amazing realization suddenly came to her.

  “No,” he said slowly. “I don’t think there’s much anyone can do.”

  She stood there looking at him, still sorting through her own emotions. Finally she said, “Well, if it takes a miracle, there are precedents. I can tell you one that’s happened right here at Lindwood.”

  “A miracle? They’ve been pretty rare in my life. What is it?”

  She turned to watch the snow, and he could tell she was thinking, choosing her words carefully.

  “What is it?” Jake asked again.

  “I don’t hate you anymore.” She turned to face him, and shock ran through him as he saw tears in her eyes. “I have for a long time, you know. I just couldn’t help it! But since you’ve come home, I—” She broke off, and he saw that she was trembling, not from the cold, but from sobs.

  Without thought he put his arms around her, and she began to cry helplessly. He stood there waiting as an emotion ran through him such as he’d never had in his life. She was warm and desirable, but it wasn’t that. It was something more than he’d ever known he could feel about a woman. She thought he was her brother and so surrendered herself to him freely. But he was painfully conscious that this woman—of all the women in the world—was the only one who would do for him!

  Finally Rachel’s sobs lessened, then ceased. She drew back, her tears making silver tracks on her cheeks in the moonlight.

  “I’m sorry, but I warned you, didn’t I? That I can only hold things in for so long and then it seems I bawl for days. But it’s been so awful! I’ve never wanted to hate anybody—and now it’s all gone.” The hushed tone of amazement in her voice moved Jake deeply.

  “I’m glad of that, Rachel,” he said quietly.

  She waited, then asked, “There’s nothing that I can do to help you?”

  He stood there looking down into her face, and there was nothing to guide him. He’d been like a cloud all his life, drifting where the wind sent him. Now for the first time, he wanted something, and it didn’t look much as though he was likely to get it.

  Finally he said, “Maybe you can help.”

  “What is it?”

  He said slowly, “You’ll hear about it soon enough, so I may as well tell you myself.” He told her of the conditions her father had laid down, then said, “I’ve got to ride a wild horse, fight a duel, and join the Confederate Army. Almost everybody’s going to think I’m a phony and a fraud. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

  She suddenly grabbed his coat, her eyes enormous, and there was a great happiness in them. “You can do it, Vince! I know you can!” Then she pulled his head down and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll help you! We can do it together!”

  His cheek burned like fire where she had kissed him, and he said no more. For a long time they stood there, watching the snow fall. The flakes were light as air and settled on the white crust soundlessly. She held his arm, and finally they turned and went into the house.

  A red fox appeared five minutes later. He trotted up, sniffed the air in a businesslike fashion, then turned and made his way to the henhouse, where nice fat hens were sleeping without a thought of a visitor.

  PART THREE

  The Bravo

  CHAPTER 14

  ELLEN’S SECRET

  When the rest of the Richmond Grays came back from the Valley to join the defensive forces that ringed Richmond, most of the men were given short leave. This was much simpler in the case of the Grays than for most units, because three-fourths of the men were from the Richmond area and could be recalled quickly in case of emergency. There was a short speech by Colonel Benton to the collected regiment, during which he applauded their service. He ended by saying, “It will be up to us to repel the enemy when they come upon us, and I am depending on you to come back determined to keep them from our homes and our land.” He called on Major Jeremiah Irons to dismiss the regiment with a prayer, and when the chaplain concluded, he dismissed the men, who gave him a rousing cheer.

  “Pretty soft, eh?” Lieutenant Bushrod Aimes said to Captain Taylor Dewitt. “If we were off in Tennessee with General Johnston, we’d be stuck.” Aimes was a happy-go-lucky sort of man, an old crony of Dewitt’s, and so he spoke freely. “Most of us will come back with massive hangovers, I expect—but it may be our last chance at relaxing for a while.”

  Major Brad Franklin, who had joined his regiment again for the ceremony, had been standing close enough to hear Aimes’s remark and came over to say, “Better not let the chaplain hear you say that, Lieutenant. He’s a pretty hard man.”

  Captain Dewitt grinned. “Well, I wish the rest of the regiment could shoot as well as Chaplain Irons. It’s a toss-up as to whethe
r he or Clay Rocklin is the best shot.”

  Bushrod said before thinking, “That’s for sure, Taylor, and if those two ever got in a fight over Melora Yancy, it’d be a close thing—” Then he saw the displeasure that crossed the faces of both men and realized he’d blundered into a delicate situation. One of the disadvantages of a regiment drawn from the same area was that everybody was aware of the details of the lives of the others. Those who really knew Clay Rocklin had no doubt that his interest in Melora Yancy was free of any immorality, but there was something about the matter that caused talk nonetheless. Perhaps it was because the chaplain of the Grays was a suitor for Melora—and the fact that Melora’s brother was in Clay’s squad only made the matter even more involved.

  Bob Yancy had heard a man from Company A make a remark about his sister and had promptly broken his jaw. It was an indication of the state of the matter that Colonel Benton had taken no action. When Aimes had given a slight rebuke to Bob Yancy, the young man had stared at him, saying, “Let another man talk about my sister and he’ll get worse than a busted jaw!”

  Now Lieutenant Aimes tried to extricate himself from his unfortunate remark by changing the subject and was aided by Captain Dewitt, who said quickly, “Well, let’s get started on that leave.” The three men separated.

  Major Franklin went at once to speak to Lieutenant Dent Rocklin, who was giving some final advice to his squad. As he waited, Franklin had a chance to study the young man. He was, the Major thought, one of the finest-looking men in the army—or had been before his face had been disfigured by a Yankee saber at the battle of Manassas. He still was handsome from the right side, but the left side of his face was distorted from the wound, the eye drawn down and the mouth drooping in a sinister expression. Like others of the family, Major Franklin had feared that the young man would go sour over such a disfiguring injury, but that had not happened. Now as Dent saw him and came over to greet him, there was an ease and contentment in his expression. He smiled, saying, “Well, I get back from a honeymoon just in time to go on leave, Major.”

 

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