Appomattox Saga Omnibus 2: Three Books In One (Appomatox Saga)

by Gilbert, Morris

  Melora began to praise God, for it was clear a miracle had taken place. She and Clay sat with the dying woman for a long time, and finally they rose and called the family. When the others had gathered in the room, Clay told them of Ellen’s coming into the kingdom, and there was great rejoicing, for Ellen had been the last member of the family to become a Christian.

  Ellen died at sunrise, surrounded by her family. Just as the first rays of the crimson sun broke through the window and fell on her face, she opened her eyes. She looked at Clay, then shifted her gaze from face to face: Denton, David, Lowell, Rena, Susanna, and Thomas. And then Melora.

  Clay leaned forward to brush his wife’s hair back from her forehead. “Are you happy, Ellen?”

  She looked at him, blinked twice, and then looked toward the sunrise. She seemed to watch the golden bars of light that fell across the room, lighting the faces around her. Then, slowly, she looked again at each face, ending with Clay. He took her in his arms, held her gently. She watched him with eyes that suddenly were filled with love.

  Then her eyes closed…her breast rose and fell…and it was over.

  Carefully Clay laid his wife’s still form back on the bed and arranged her hair around her forehead. Then he rose and went to his children. “Your mother has gone to be with the Lord.”

  Melora moved across the room, pausing at the doorway to cast one glance at the family surrounding the bed, embracing each other. Rena’s face was pressed against her father’s chest, and Clay’s sons held him from each side. As Thomas and Susanna moved to be included, Melora left the room. Closing the door, she went outside and looked at the rising sun, tears coming to her eyes as she stood under the sky.

  She had never felt so alone. She was a strong woman, but now she felt weak. How long she stood there, fighting back the awful loneliness, she never knew. But then she felt a hand on her shoulder, a hard but gentle hand—and peace came to her, the loneliness fleeing as she turned.

  CHAPTER 24

  FRANKIE’S DRESS

  Once again Paul Bristol practically turned Richmond upside down seeking a place to store his precious wet plates, but to no avail. Richmond was crowded to the walls, and there was no room anywhere to store the plates safely. Finally in despair Paul drove to Hartsworth and put them carefully in his laboratory. Exhausted, he went to his room and fell into bed, sleeping that night and half the next day. When he managed to pull himself out of bed, he remembered the ball in Richmond. Groaning, he stumbled to the washbasin, shaved, then dug out his best suit and put it on.

  When he arrived at the DeSpain home, Luci gave him a cold greeting. “You missed the party last night at the Chesnuts,” she said, turning her cheek to take his kiss.

  “I’m sorry, Luci,” Paul muttered. “But I wouldn’t have been good company. Frankie and I haven’t slept a full night for two weeks. I believe we’ve taken a picture of every soldier in the Army of Northern Virginia, and of every ditch and fortification in this state!” He was tired and irritable, and when Luci only frowned, he said shortly, “If you don’t want to go to the ball, I’ll understand.”

  “Not go!” she exclaimed in astonishment. “What in the world are you talking about, Paul? We’ve got to go to the ball!”

  “Well, let’s do it, then,” he said brusquely, and they left the house and rode along the streets of Richmond. They arrived at the Auction Hall, where the ball was to be held, and they had to wait while gowned ladies and handsomely dressed gentlemen disembarked from carriages and entered the brightly lit structure.

  Once inside, they found themselves greeted by friends of Luci, most of whom Paul had met briefly but didn’t really know. Luci had grown up in Richmond at the top of the social ladder and was swarmed by a group of young people at once. Glancing around, Paul noted that most of the young men wore gray uniforms. He felt as out of place as a sparrow at a convention of peacocks.

  Luci made the situation no better by apologizing over and over for Paul, explaining that he was doing important work and couldn’t serve in the army. Once, when she made this explanation to a captain of artillery, Paul said in exasperation, “I’m too old and decrepit to be a soldier, Luci, and the captain doesn’t give a bean why I’m not in uniform—do you, Captain?”

  The young man was too embarrassed to answer. Luci, on the other hand, was furious—and had plenty to say. When she got Paul alone, she rounded on him and said between clenched teeth, “I don’t understand you, Paul; I declare, I don’t! You’ve got to tell people something! People look down on every man who isn’t in uniform!”

  “Well, let them look down, Luci,” Paul said wearily. “I’m not going to be wearing a uniform, so we’ll just have to live with their looks. But stop apologizing for me, will you?”

  They moved to the dance floor and danced the first dance in stony silence. Then Paul surrendered her to a tall young lieutenant named Dale Phillips. “Luci and I are old beaux, you know, Mr. Bristol,” Phillips warned him lightly. “I fell in love with her when I was sixteen years old. Better keep an eye on me—I might give you trouble.”

  Paul liked the young man’s direct approach. “All’s fair in love and war, Lieutenant,” he said with a smile. “If you tamper with her affection, it’ll be pistols for two and whiskey for one!” But Phillips could tell by his tone of voice that he wasn’t serious, though Luci frowned at her fiancé’s seemingly light manner.

  Paul turned and made his way to the edge of the dance floor, then heard his name being called. Turning, he saw his mother motioning to him. Going to her, he said, “I heard about Ellen’s accident when I got home. How is she?”

  “Not well.” Marianne frowned. “Claude and I wanted to stay with Tom and Susanna, but we’d agreed to come to this ball. We’ll go there after we leave here tonight.”

  “I’ll go by Gracefield, too.” Paul looked around the room. “Where’s Father…and Frankie?”

  “Claude’s talking with some of the officers in the dining room. I don’t think Frankie’s come down yet.”

  Paul frowned. “I hope you got a decent dress for her, Mother.” The thought of the last ball came to him, and he shook his head, adding, “And maybe you could keep her from putting on too much makeup.”

  “Oh, I think the dress will do,” Marianne said offhandedly, a twinkle in her eyes. “Why don’t you meet her when she comes in so she doesn’t have to face the room alone?”

  “All right.” He looked out over the dance floor to where Luci was gliding across the floor, smiling up into the lieutenant’s face. “Luci is happy now,” he said without expression. “She doesn’t have to feel embarrassed anymore by being with a man who isn’t in uniform.”

  “Isn’t that the Phillips boy?” Marianne asked suddenly. “He was engaged to Luci once—or almost engaged—I forget which. But everyone was sure they’d wind up together. He comes from a very wealthy family.”

  Paul watched the pair for a moment, then shook his head. “Maybe I can get a job as a doorman or something. If a uniform is what she wants, I guess I ought to get one for her.”

  “Don’t be silly! People love one another for what they are, not for what they wear!”

  “I suppose.” The dance ended, and Paul started to move toward Luci, but before he made two steps, she was claimed by a blond major of the cavalry. Paul gave his mother a caustic smile. “Can’t compete with the glamour of the cavalry.” He moved away and went at once to the dining room, where a group of men were seated around a table, talking and smoking cigars. Paul took a seat beside his father, listening as the men discussed the only subject of importance: when the fighting would begin, and whether or not Lee could win over McClellan’s numbers.

  Quickly he grew tired of the talk and whispered, “I’d better go check on Luci.”

  The room was brightly lit by the chandeliers, and the dance floor was a colorful mosaic of red, green, and yellow dresses glittering under the lights. The men’s red and yellow sashes made a brilliant counterpoint to the women’s outfits, giving the w
hole room a festive air.

  As Paul entered, he saw that Luci was dancing with Phillips. He waited to feel some jealousy…but none came. As he moved through the crowd, he was thoughtful and even puzzled about that. Shouldn’t I care that she’s dancing with an old flame? When I was twenty, I’d have called a fellow out for just talking too long with a woman I wanted, but now…I don’t even care.

  He found a place against the wall and was leaning against it when his mother came to him. “Paul, you’ve got to do something about Frankie!”

  He came away from the wall with a start, looking around the room quickly. “Frankie? What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s afraid to come into the ballroom. I guess the memory of the last time was too much for her.”

  Paul didn’t even hesitate—a fact that Marianne noted with a barely concealed smile. “Where is she?” he asked firmly. “I’ll go get her.”

  “She’s sitting outside in one of those little alcoves. Go out through that door over there, and you’ll see a pair of french doors that lead to sort of a tiny garden. Go talk to her, Paul, but for heaven’s sake, don’t be rough!”

  “Rough? What’s that supposed to mean?” Paul asked in astonishment.

  Marianne put her hand on her son’s cheek and held it there. “You always think of her as a sort of tough young hooligan because of the way she’s been. But she doesn’t need firm handling tonight. She’s out there alone and terrified, and she needs a man to treat her gently and to tell her she’s attractive. Will you do that, son?”

  “Why, certainly, Mother! I must say, you make me out to be quite an insensitive character!” With a sniff he turned and made his way through the crowd, passing outside the main ballroom and entering an empty gallery. He spotted the french doors at once, and as he moved toward them, he thought of his mother’s admonition. Setting his jaw, he resolved to do his best with the girl. We’ve gotten to be good friends—ought not to be too hard, he concluded as he stepped outside. His eyes were accustomed to the glare of the lights, and for a moment he stood there, unable to see.

  “Frankie?” He spoke quietly. “Are you out here?”

  “Yes.”

  Paul turned to his right and saw her standing beside a large white pillar. He stepped closer, but she stood in the shadow of the pillar, so that all he could see was a shadowy image. “I came to get you,” he said quickly. “Let’s go inside.”

  “No. I’m not going in there.”

  Frankie had been delighted with her time with Marianne Bristol. The two of them had visited every shop in Richmond, or so it seemed. Frankie saw how much it pleased the older woman to look at the dresses, and though she herself was not convinced that she could be made into any sort of beauty, she had enjoyed the shopping. But that afternoon as Marianne had helped her get ready for the ball, her newfound confidence had begun to wane. By the time the music was beginning and she was dressed, she wanted nothing so much as to turn and flee the whole thing!

  Still, she had managed to come from the hotel with the Bristols, but the moment she had stepped out of the carriage, she had felt a blind panic. With a muffled excuse, she had escaped to the ladies’ dressing room. Marianne had found her there and coaxed her as far as the gallery—but that was when Frankie’s courage failed. She had dodged out the french doors, telling Marianne, “You go on. I’m going to stay here!”

  Now as Paul stood before her, tall and handsome in his dark suit, his shirt’s pure white ruffles gleaming in the moonlight that flooded the garden, she felt herself trembling.

  Paul stepped closer and took her arm. “You can’t stay out here,” he said lightly. “Come on, now, let me see your new dress.”

  “I don’t want to!”

  At the stubborn tone of her voice, Paul wanted to pull her out of the shadows, but he remembered his mother’s warning to treat her gently. He stood there, trying to think of a way to win her confidence, but nothing came. Finally he said, “Well, I’ll tell you what, Frankie, I’m not having a very good time inside, myself.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No. Luci only likes to dance with men in uniform, which leaves me out.”

  “She—she shouldn’t do that!”

  “Oh, I guess I can see why she’d like the young fellows in their bright new buttons and sashes. A girl likes romance, doesn’t she?”

  “You look fine! You’re romantic enough for—” She suddenly broke off.

  Paul laughed. “For what? For you, Frankie? Well, I’m glad to hear that, because I’ve got an idea.” He looked around at the flagstone terrace, which was illuminated by the silver rays of the moon and the amber beams of light that came through the french doors. Then he looked back at her, smiling in a winning way. “This is going to be our dance floor, just yours and mine.” He looked very young to Frankie at that moment, and she caught her breath when he held his hands out to her. “I think that’s a waltz, isn’t it? Will you join me, Miss Aimes?”

  Bristol looked so fine, and there was such a kind expression on his face, that the fear that had frozen Frankie began to leave. If he had pressured her, she would have resisted, run away. But he just stood there, smiling that gentle smile and holding his hands out to her.

  Frankie took a quick breath and then put her hands in his. His fingers closed around hers with a gentle yet firm pressure. He held them, seeming to enjoy the simple act. She felt the strength that was in him, and for once took pleasure in the knowledge that she was weaker. She stood there in the shadows for a long moment, the music floating on the warm air…and then she stepped into the gleaming moonlight.

  Paul took one look, and his face changed abruptly.

  Frankie saw the change at once and shook her head, fighting to hold back the tears of mortification that sprang to her eyes. “You don’t like the dress, do you?” she asked softly. She tried to pull her hands away, but he held her fast, his eyes wide as he studied her. He had hoped for some sort of acceptable dress—one that would not embarrass the girl—and for some sort of hairstyle and makeup that would not subject her to ridicule. But what stood before him was far more than any of that. What stood before him was an absolute vision.

  The dress was a light blue—with just enough green to catch the emerald of Frankie’s eyes—and trimmed with silver. Its simple lines fitted Frankie snugly at the waist and bosom, then fell to her feet in graceful folds, setting off but not flaunting her trim figure. For a moment, Paul stared at her wordlessly, finding it impossible to reconcile the youthful and womanly curves he now saw with the girl in baggy clothes to which he’d grown accustomed.

  Her hair was arranged in curls that framed her square face, and even in the poor light, he could see the reddish tint that gave such life to her tresses. Somehow the short hair seemed very feminine, for the curls were delicate and moved lightly as she turned her head.

  And her face looked so—so different! Paul took in the wide eyes and the long, thick lashes that lent the girl an air of mystery. Her cheeks were smooth, and though she had always had a beautiful complexion, now he admired the alabaster sheen of the fine skin on her face and neck. He would not have known her lips, either, for they were soft and full—as though she were waiting to be kissed.

  Waiting to be—! Paul drew in his breath sharply, startled by the thought, then suddenly noticed that Frankie was trembling. He met her eyes and was shocked to see tears there. With a sinking heart he realized he hadn’t responded to her question. He spoke quickly, with a throat that had inexplicably gone dry, making his words hoarse. “Frankie, I—I don’t know what to say!”

  “It’s all right, Paul,” she answered huskily. “You don’t have to—”

  But he broke in as though she hadn’t spoken, his voice hushed with wonder. “You look absolutely beautiful!” She lifted her head abruptly, her eyes filled with surprise, and he quickly went on. “I expected you to look presentable enough, of course. I knew Mother would see to that…but I never thought to find you so changed!”

  “Changed, Pau
l?”

  “Why, didn’t you look in the mirror?” Paul demanded. “And it’s not just the dress, Frankie—it’s everything!”

  Frankie’s lips trembled, and she stared at him, trying hard to believe what she was hearing. “If you like me—the way I look…then I don’t care what the others think,” she whispered.

  As if from far off, Paul noticed the music was playing. He smiled down into her eyes. “Our dance?”

  Frankie felt him gently pull her into his embrace, and timidly she put her hand on his shoulder. The touch of his hand on her back sent a strange sensation through her as he began to move to the sounds of the waltz. She found herself following him, and as they went around the flagstone terrace, wheeling and turning, she was suddenly aware of what it meant to follow a man’s lead. Somehow she knew exactly what he would do next, where he would step, which way he would turn. It came to her through the touch of his hand on her back, perhaps, or maybe in the way he held her hand in a tight clasp. No matter how it happened, Frankie Aimes found herself sweeping across the terrace effortlessly and with a grace she had not known was in her, held secure in the arms of Paul Bristol.

  As for Bristol, he was speechless. The woman he held in his arms…this could not be the same boyish figure he’d seen every day for weeks! And yet it was! He had known many women, but none had the innocence and youthful beauty of this one. Perhaps it was the faint trace of awkwardness that set her apart, for the women he’d known had been polished—too much so. Or maybe it was the scent that Frankie wore, a faint fragrance that filled his senses and that somehow made the girl seem even more fragile and feminine.

  Fragile! He’d always thought of Frankie as tough, but now he realized that what he’d been seeing was only the image she’d chosen to show the world. She was innocent and vulnerable, and that realization brought a warm rush of sudden protectiveness to him. She seemed very young, and as he looked into her eyes, he found himself feeling younger, too.