Ashes in the Wind

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  “The little lady,” Cole mocked, smiling down at the injured one, “is my wi—”

  The Dane seemed to explode from the planking of the dock with a slanting trajectory, catching Cole about the thighs in a bruising hug and carrying him upward and backward until they slammed squarely into the middle of the beer advertisement. With a gasp, Alaina half rose from the buggy seat, the whip gripped tightly in her fist as if she had every intention of using it. The dog set up an angry barking seeing his master pinned against the door by the snorting Dane who clawed upward for whatever was vulnerable. Cole thrust the heavy cane under Gundar’s chin and over his shoulder, then levered back hard. The Dane was peeled away as his head was forced back, and his opponent dropped to his feet. Alaina sank back to the seat, but every muscle in her body was tense and rigid as she watched the battle.

  The grimace on Cole’s face was as much from pain as from the struggle, but this was no time to pamper a pet leg. He stepped aside and dusted the Dane’s broad rear with the cane, eliciting a bellow of rage for his effort. The man whirled, and Cole jabbed with all his strength, catching the other in the stomach, just beneath the ribs, with the blunt head of the staff, and driving the breath from him. Gasping, Gundar staggered back as Cole reversed the cane and followed. He smote the left side of the huge noggin, then the right. It was like hitting a barrel; there was sound but no effect! Cole brought the heavy knotted end up from the ground. This time Gundar’s head snapped back with the impact, and his eyes glazed a trifle.

  Cole changed positions of the staff, holding it across his chest like a rifle, and struck out with the thick butt, rolling the Dane up on his heels until he staggered back for balance. At the edge of the dock, Gundar teetered like a tall pine ready to crash down. Cole decided the matter with a light push of his staff against the man’s chest. The resulting geyser of mud startled the horse and caused it to prance nervously. Alaina caught the reins and spoke in a soothing tone until the steed calmed.

  Cole braced on his cane and surveyed the crowd with a challenging gaze, but none seemed eager to take up the gauntlet for the fallen Gundar. The groggy Dane pulled his mud-covered form up against the edge of the dock as Cole gingerly lowered that part of his person which had first hit the wall into the seat beside Alaina who watched him worriedly. Cole whistled and slapped the back of the seat to bring Soldier to his place, then with a flip of the reins, the roan lifted his feet high and took the buggy away from the hall.

  “Are you all right?” Alaina questioned with anxious concern. “Did he hurt your leg?”

  “It’s a bit bruised perhaps.” He glanced aside at her. “But it will be all right.”

  Alaina looked back over her shoulder to where several of the men had hauled the Dane back onto the dock and were busily dousing him with buckets of water. She shivered at the thought of the icy bath. “They seem to enjoy fighting almost as much as drinking,” she observed laconically.

  “A rowdy bunch,” Cole agreed. “With a stringent pecking order, but good workers all, once they are out of the town.”

  “You need more men at the farm?” Alaina asked in wonderment.

  “Not at the farm,” he replied. “I have some good timberland up north, and it’s about time it was worked over.”

  She noticed that they were traveling along the river but not in the direction of home. “Where are we going now?” Her voice held a note of excited curiosity. “Are you taking me to meet your mistress?”

  Cole’s stare was at first one of amazement, then he saw the threatening smile on her face. “Not hardly, madam,” he chuckled at last. “There was a message for me in the hall that an old friend is visiting in town. The man would be an excellent foreman for the crew up north.”

  Some moments later the buggy neared a large, white house decorated with intricate gingerbread workings. A tall, lean man, of almost Cole’s size and build but younger, came out onto the front porch as the buggy rolled to a halt before the hitching post.

  Cole whistled shrilly and pointed. “Kill Soldier!”

  The mastiff bounded from the buggy with enough force to rock the seat precariously. Alaina caught her breath, aghast at the command, but the dog barked joyfully and charged up the steps, leaping to place his paws on the man’s shoulders and growling in mock ferocity.

  “Down, you misbegotten son of a moose!” the assailed one laughed as he tried to avoid the licking tongue. “Cole! Call him off!”

  “That should teach you to foist off your castaway mongrels!” Cole laughingly called as the blond man subdued Soldier’s capricious play.

  “Mongrel! Huh!” Alaina heard the man’s reply. “He probably has a better-documented lineage than you do.”

  Cole threw his legs over the side and slid to the ground. Alaina saw the back of his neck stiffen as his feet touched, and it was a long moment of testing before he rested any weight at all on the right leg. He fumbled under the seat and lifted his slim black cane, using it to take most of the strain off his leg as he limped around the buggy to lift her down. He caught her hand and tucked it within the crook of his arm as he made a cautious way up to the house. “My wife, Alaina,” he presented as they climbed the steps. “Franze Prochavski, a simple Polish fellow.”

  “Not Polish!” Franze laughed in a charming, almost boyish manner. “Prussian! And like any good solid German, Cole can’t understand the difference.”

  “Austrian!” Cole corrected with a grin.

  “Of course!” Franze’s dark eyes gleamed with merriment as he satisfied his revenge. “My apologies, Herr Latimer.”

  An attractive young woman, obviously pregnant, swung open the front door and came out to join them. Happy twinkling blue eyes shone with as much warmth and friendliness as her quick smile.

  “My wife, Gretchen,” Franze announced to Alaina.

  “We did not get a chance to meet Cole’s first wife.” Gretchen’s light, German accent was just enough to be completely captivating. “So we make a special time to meet you. I am so happy to see that he has done well.” She took Alaina’s slender hands in both of hers. “I hope this time Cole will get a chance to make a baby also, yah?”

  Under Cole’s gaze, Alaina felt her face grow warm and in her sudden confusion, mumbled a few words she hoped would be accepted as a suitable reply.

  “This second time for us to make a baby,” Gretchen confided, but continued a little sadly. “But that was before Cole came home from the war. The midwife say the baby come wrong, and the cord choked the breath from it. This time, Cole take care of it all, yah?”

  “You put too much trust in me, Gretchen,” he gently admonished.

  “That’s because I know you best doctor around here. You not say no, yah? You come up north, all right?”

  “I’ve given up my practice,” he said quietly.

  “No!” she gasped, eyes wide with disbelief. “But you loved it so! How come you to do that?”

  It was Alaina’s turn to watch him, and she was even more curious than Gretchen. With a troubled frown, he stared down at the planking beneath his feet, shrugging off an answer. “Circumstances were such that I decided it was best to give it up.”

  The woman turned to Alaina, honestly concerned that a doctor of his abilities should be forced to make such a decision. “Can you persuade him to change his mind?”

  “I don’t know,” Alaina murmured softly. “He hasn’t told me why he gave it up.” As Cole raised his gaze, she looked straight into his eyes, adding, “It seems a shame, though, since he was so good at what he did.”

  Gretchen felt reassured as she observed the couple. If anyone could influence Cole, she sensed that it was this young woman, whether he was ready to admit it or not.

  Gretchen would have it no other way but that they share a pot of tea, and this was soon extended to include some of the most delectable sweet breads Alaina had ever sampled. As they sat about the table before the warming hearth, Alaina learned that the house belonged to Gretchen’s parents who were gone for the afterno
on and that the young couple was visiting from a farm they were struggling to establish near Cole’s holdings.

  It was well into the afternoon before business matters were settled and Cole escorted Alaina to the buggy. Gretchen stood at the door until the buckboard had disappeared from sight, then she turned with a gentle smile to her husband, assuring him, “Cole will come north when the time nears for the baby to be born.”

  Franze stared at her, totally perplexed. “How do you know?”

  Her smile widened. “I just know.”

  Chapter 30

  JUST before dusk, a warm, southwesterly breeze sprang up to set astir the slumbering countryside. Alaina paused in her toilette to open a window and enjoy the gentle caress of the warming air. The river curled away on either side of the cliff and lazily glistened in the lowering sun. Now and again a breath of wind skimmed across the surface, rippling and stirring the water as it traveled the winding course. Much in the same fashion, thoughts touched her mind, disturbing the smooth peace of lassitude. Memories caused waves or made strange patterns against the rocks hidden just beneath the surface. It was a mammoth boulder that Cole had married her simply because he felt it was the right thing to do, and its roiling disturbance muddled the flow of her logic. Her own casual acceptance of events was the unsettling breeze that whispered through her musings until it became a tumbling troubled tide of confusion. She argued that her sensibilities had been abused, yet she could find no righteous anger to deal sharply with him as he deserved.

  Releasing a pensive sigh, she returned to her dressing, donning her own best evening gown of yellow taffeta woven with fine, black stripes. A wide band of black lace was draped diagonally across the front of the gored skirt which flared out with great fullness at the bottom. A pleated berthe adorned the bodice, and puffed sleeves were trimmed with black lace. The tiny buttons that fastened the back caused her several moments of regret that Cole was not handy to assist her. But the lawyer from Pennsylvania had arrived shortly after they returned, and the two men had withdrawn into the study to indulge their business, leaving her to fill out the afternoon with idle meanderings.

  Ruefully Alaina removed the chair she had carefully wedged against the door that led to her husband’s bedroom. It had been a wasted gesture, for no slightest sound had come from that direction. A clock daintily chimed the half hour, and Alaina glanced in surprise toward the fireplace mantel, realizing that some time during the day an ornate timepiece had been added to her bedroom decor. In another thirty minutes or so, the Darveys would arrive. She was dressed and ready, while Cole still had not come upstairs to change for dinner.

  As the moments flew by, she opened the hall door so she might hear the clapper that would herald the guest’s arrival. In a last effort to search out whatever flaws there might be in her appearance that would thwart Cole’s approval and blatantly remind him of her refusal to wear the clothes he had purchased, she returned to stand before the mirror. She had taken unusual care to brush her hair until the dark tresses gleamed richly. Parted down the middle, it was drawn away from her face, and an openly woven black silk net held the full, sleek mass of it. It was a rare experience to feel pretty and feminine, but she could not savor the moment with the uncertainty of Cole’s reaction yet to be resolved. The teardrop diamonds dangling coyly from her earlobes might pacify him to some extent, but she could hardly base her hopes on the unpredictability of her husband.

  Some minute whisper of a sound penetrated Alaina’s consciousness as she stood before her reflection, and the hair on the back of her neck began to crawl. Suddenly, a vague movement in the mirror caught her eye, and she whirled, only to find the doorway empty. Taking up a lamp, she hurried to investigate, but the hallway shadows were void and barren, although she walked the length of the corridor and back. She left the lamp on a high bracket in the hall to dispel the darkness. The stealthy visitor would have to brave the light it cast, an unlikely probability since he seemed to prefer the shadows.

  Voices trailed upward from the front hallway, and Alaina realized that Miles was already greeting the guests. She drew a deep, steadying breath, and prepared herself to meet Cole’s friends, to enter her role as mistress of the house. Still, as she made her way down the hall, her mind was plagued by the fleeting shadow she had glimpsed in the mirror. Who was this Mindy Cole had spoken to the night before. What had she to do with this house—and with Cole?

  The rustle of her taffeta gown caught Braegar’s attention as she came down the stairs. Glancing up, the man immediately forgot that he was helping his sister off with her wrap, for the apparition descending toward them wiped his mind clear of anything but sheer appreciation. He hastened across the hall to greet their hostess, leaving Miles to assist his kin out of their wraps.

  Clicking his heels, Braegar affected a fine, courtly bow, then taking Alaina’s hand, bent over it in the best of old world tradition. “Madam, you surely warm these northern climes with the sunshine of your beauty.”

  “You are most gallant, sir,” she replied, smiling graciously.

  Allowing Braegar to escort her across the hall, she paused briefly as the butler turned with their wraps over his arm, murmuring to him discreetly, “Miles, will you inform Doctor Latimer of our guests’ arrival?”

  “Yes, madam.” The thin servant gave a disjointed bow and, with a deliberate tread, crossed to the study door where he rapped lightly.

  Casually the sister assessed the new Latimer woman. “I had speculated on just why Braegar was so anxious to get here this evening,” she commented wryly. “Now I can plainly see his reason.”

  Alaina was not quite sure how to accept the compliment, but whether future ally or foe, the woman was a guest in her husband’s house, and was to be treated to a bit of warm Southern hospitality. There was nothing like a bright smile to confuse an adversary or charm a friend. Alaina’s soft, pink lips curved graciously as she extended her hand. “You must be Carolyn.”

  In belated gallantry Braegar swept an arm toward his relatives. “I would have you meet my most sainted mother, Mrs. Eleanore McGivers Darvey, and, as you have guessed, this is Carolyn, my aging, spinsterish sister.”

  The fair-haired woman drew a stiff smile. “We’ve been anxious to meet you, Mrs. Latimer.” The title felt clumsy in her mouth. “And since you’re already acquainted with Braegar, you may understand why I am as yet unwed.” She looked straight at her brother. “Few men wish to marry into a family where congenital idiocy is rampant.”

  Alaina smothered her laughter, but could not hide the shine of it in her eyes. Hopefully it was only the woman’s dry wit that made her seem at first unfriendly.

  Braegar drew himself up in exaggerated shock, but his planned rejoinder was quickly squashed by his mother. “Children! Children!” Eleanore protested. “What can this young lady think of your buffoonery except that I have raised a pair of jackdaws?”

  “No, indeed,” Alaina reassured the woman pleasantly. “It recalls fond memories of my own family.”

  A polite enough answer, Eleanore mused distantly, but she was not willing to accept Cole’s young bride so readily. In her own mind she had placed the fault of his earlier marriage directly on him and berated his lusting foolishness. Once she had held visions of him marrying Carolyn, but however much she had hoped for that, his eyes had cast elsewhere, overlooking the carefully brought up girl close at hand. Perhaps he and Carolyn had been too close, and he had not been able to think of her as anything more than a sister. Yet after Roberta’s death, Eleanore’s aspirations had been revived. She had expected him to come to his senses and look closer to home for a bride. Instead, he had taken a complete stranger to wife. God forbid, another Southern wench! And poor Carolyn was still a spinster at the age of twenty-seven.

  The door of the study opened, and Cole’s voice came from within. “I’ll rely upon you to handle it, Horace.”

  Putting on a brighter smile, Alaina turned as the two men entered the hall. Cole still wore the dark garb of the earlier h
our and leaned heavily on his cane as if in need of its support. There was a whiteness about his tensed lips that bespoke somehow of pain, and when he paused in what might have been a casual stance to allow him a glance about the hall, Alaina wondered if it wasn’t a ploy to give his leg a rest. His eyes lingered on her a moment, taking full note of her attire, before they moved on. He gave Braegar a curt nod and, as he limped toward them, smiled briefly at the two women. He introduced the gray-haired lawyer to the Darveys, then slipping an arm possessively about Alaina’s waist, concluded the formalities. “And you met my wife this afternoon.”

  Horace Burr took Alaina’s hand into his. “I apologize for taking so much of your husband’s time, Mrs. Latimer. Will you forgive me?”

  “Only if you grace us with your company at dinner tonight, Mister Burr.” As Alaina played the congenial hostess with guileless warmth and radiance, the honest scents of sweaty leather, cigar smoke, and brandy that clung pleasantly to Cole stirred her awareness and roused feelings she could not even explain to herself.

  Horace laughed with pleasure. “I shall be delighted to join such gracious and lovely company.” He moved to take Mrs. Darvey’s hand. “At last I have the honor of meeting you after hearing the Latimers rave about you all these years.”

  A widow for more than a decade, Mrs. Darvey was not immune to the gallantry of the older gentleman. She was still an attractive woman and enjoyed the attention Horace Burr chose to lavish upon her.

  Finding a discreet moment, Alaina turned within Cole’s embrace and, placing a hand familiarly against his chest, looked up into those blue eyes which rested upon her as boldly as ever, drawing a warm blush into her cheeks. “Do you wish to change before dinner?”