Eternity

by Jude Deveraux

  “My brother won’t care about your wormy old corn if I’m happy and—” She looked at the watch pinned to her bosom. “The stage is due in ten minutes. It will be here in ten minutes, and my brother will be on it.”

  Josh gave her a patronizing smile. “All right then, if he is, I’ll deal with him. If he wants us to remarry, then we’ll stall him until Nora gives me the paper and my divorce is final. Twenty-four hours at the most.” He put his hand under her chin so she looked up at him. “Can you forgive me? About Nora? I didn’t want to tell you that I’d failed at my first marriage. You can’t blame me for that, can you? I figure the corn made me look enough like a failure.”

  “You’re not a failure.”

  He kissed her. “You don’t know what that means to me. For the first time since I got saddled with that damned farm, when I look in your eyes, I don’t feel like a failure.”

  “I knew you needed me.”

  “I was too stupid to know it,” he said and bent to kiss her again, but Carrie’s head came up as she listened.

  “That’s the stage.” Disentangling herself from him, she got up and went outside.

  Sitting where he was on the bench, Josh smiled at her fondly. She was so trusting, so believing in other people, and now she honestly believed that the stage was going to arrive on the dot of four o’clock.

  When the sound of the approaching wagon came closer, Josh went outside. Carrie was standing at the end of the platform, where she could see everything should the stage indeed arrive.

  Josh looked toward the direction of the noise, and coming toward them was indeed what looked like a stagecoach. He glanced down at Carrie’s watch. “They’ll never make it. It’s two minutes to four, and they’re a long way off yet.”

  “ ’Ring will make it,” Carrie said without a great deal of interest.

  By this time most of the citizenry of Eternity was leaving the shops and streets to see what looked like the phenomenon of the stage being on time. Looking over Carrie’s head, Josh watched with growing fascination as the driver cracked his whip over his horses. He could see the man standing in the box now, could hear him shouting to the horses, and could almost hear the deep breathing of the horses as they ran full gallop toward the platform at the stage depot. Usually, the driver, almost always drunk, ambled into town at little more than a walk, not caring when he arrived.

  “I think they’re going to make it,” Josh said under his breath.

  “Yes, of course,” Carrie answered. “Four o’clock on the dot.”

  Josh’s eyes widened in disbelief as the stage drew into sight. If he wasn’t mistaken, those were arrows sticking out of the roof. Looking about at the ever-increasing crowd of people, he saw that they were pointing.

  At four o’clock exactly, precisely, on the nose, the big stagecoach came screeching to a halt beside the depot platform. There were not only arrows sticking out of the roof, there were bullet holes all over one side of the coach. Tied to the back of the stage was a very fine riding horse.

  “What happened?” everyone yelled at the driver at once.

  Josh didn’t think he’d ever seen a more tired-looking man than that driver. He was usually drunk, but today he was too sober, for there were black circles under his eyes, he hadn’t shaved in a week, and the left corner of his mouth was twitching.

  “What didn’t happen?” the driver said as he unsteadily got down from the box. “We was attacked by thieves; some drunk cowboys was being chased by Indians, and the whole kit and caboodle attacked us. We run into a herd of stampeding buffalo. There ain’t nothin’ that didn’t happen to us.”

  The driver was now beginning to enjoy his audience, and he warmed to his story. “But we got a crazy man on board. Name of Montgomery.”

  Carrie gave Josh an I-told-you-so look.

  The driver continued. “That man said he had a schedule to keep, said he’d set a date and he meant to be in Eternity on that date. I tell you, the man is crazy. We was travelin’ about a hundred miles an hour, give or take a bit, and he climbed out of the coach window, got on his horse, and singlehandedly kept them buffaloes off a the coach. He wouldn’t let me slow down for him to get back inside, either. When them cowboys attacked us, he shot their hats off. The Indians thought that was so funny they quit shootin’ at us. I tell you, the man is crazy.”

  By this time the driver had dismounted, pulled the steps down, and opened the door to the coach. At long last, the passengers began to disembark. They were a mess: dirty, frightened looking, the women in tears. They looked as though they’d been placed inside a small barrel and dragged from Maine to Colorado.

  The two women, shaking, their clothes torn, fell from the coach into the arms of townspeople. One woman’s hairpiece had fallen over her ear, giving her a lumpy-looking head.

  Three men got out of the coach, and they didn’t look any less frightened than the women. One man had a bloody cut in his coat sleeve, another had three holes in his hat. The third man tried to light a cigar, but his hand shook so badly he couldn’t get the match to the tip of the cigar. When one of the townspeople walked up to him with an offer of help, he said, “I need a drink.”

  “Which one is he?” Josh asked Carrie, surprised that she wasn’t going forward to greet any of the men. She didn’t answer him, but kept looking at the stage.

  After the others were off, another man stepped down. He was tall, over six feet, well built, and extremely handsome, and he was wearing a black suit that Josh knew had cost a great deal. Instead of being nervous and frightened as the other people were, this man looked rested and utterly calm, as though he’d just returned from a Sunday stroll instead of the ordeal of the stage, and there wasn’t so much as a hint of dust on him.

  As Josh watched, the man stepped onto the platform and smiled at the people around him. One of the women who had been on the stage looked at him and started crying, burying her face in the shoulder of an older woman. The man reached into his inside coat pocket, withdrew a slim cigar, and, with a very steady hand, struck a match and lit it. As he took a deep draw, he seemed to be oblivious to the way a hundred or so townspeople were staring at him in fascination, then flicked an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder.

  “Guess which one is ’Ring?” Carrie said in a heavy voice.

  Reassuringly, Josh slipped his hand into hers.

  As though he’d known all along that they were there, ’Ring turned toward his sister.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” he said quietly, and Carrie ran to him.

  ’Ring caught his little sister in his strong arms and hugged her fiercely while the townspeople watched. If this man, this half-monster, half-hero was known by Carrie, then they were ready to accept him. After all, Carrie was providing jobs for them.

  “Let me look at you,” ’Ring said, setting her down. He was probably twice as big as she was, and one of his big hands caressed her cheek.

  Josh had never experienced jealousy before. He’d always believed in people living their own lives, and he’d never tried to tell anyone, man, woman, or child, what they should do. But then Josh knew he’d never really been in love before. Right now he couldn’t stand this man touching Carrie, and it didn’t matter that he was her brother.

  Moving next to Carrie, he folded her arm in his in a way of ownership.

  Carrie looked at her husband. ’Ring was a bit taller than Josh, but he wasn’t built better than Josh, and Carrie thought that Josh was about a thousand times handsomer than her brother.

  ’Ring looked at the two of them, at the way Josh held Carrie’s arm, at the way Josh’s mouth was set, as though he were ready to do battle with ’Ring if ’Ring so much as touched a hair on Carrie’s head again. He saw the way Carrie’s eyes looked at Josh, as though he were the bravest, finest man in the world, and ’Ring knew all that he’d wanted to know. He’d traveled all the way from Maine to see if his sister loved this man and if he loved her, and now he had his answer. For his part, he could have stepped back on the stage
and gone home to his own wife and children.

  ’Ring smiled at his little sister, and Carrie gave him a tremulous smile in return. It was that smile that let ’Ring know that something was wrong, for Carrie had never been able to keep a secret. He’d tried his best to teach her to play poker, but when she had a good hand, she was delighted and showed it. But ’Ring had an idea that nothing serious was wrong. After all, what was important was that the two of them loved each other, and he could see that they did. They were standing together as though they thought ’Ring was an evil force who was going to try to break them apart.

  “Let me introduce myself,” Josh said, extending his hand to ’Ring. “Joshua Greene.”

  As ’Ring shook his brother-in-law’s hand, he realized that he’d seen him before, but couldn’t remember where. “Have we met before?”

  “I’m sure we haven’t,” Josh said smoothly.

  He can play poker, ’Ring thought. You’d never know what cards this man held. Not by the merest flicker of his eyes would he give away a secret. He’d let people know only what he wanted them to know.

  “Perhaps not,” ’Ring said in a tone that he hoped was as smooth, but he doubted that it was. “Is there somewhere I can get a bath?” ’Ring asked as he turned to Carrie.

  “Of course. I have reserved you a room at the hotel, but it’s not what you’re used to.”

  ’Ring would have kissed his sister’s cheek and laughed at her nervousness, but Josh was hovering over her like a bird of prey. ’Ring wondered if he acted in the same proprietary way with his own wife.

  “I’m sure that I’ll manage,” ’Ring said. “Perhaps this evening we could dine together, and tomorrow I’d like to see these children of yours.”

  Carrie’s stomach was beginning to hurt. She couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Why are you here, ’Ring? I’m not going back no matter what you say.”

  ’Ring wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Josh moved closer to her. “Is that what you thought? That I came all the way out here to make you go back with me?”

  “I thought maybe because of the papers, well, you know…”

  “The ones you tricked Father into signing?”

  Carrie looked at her shoe.

  ’Ring looked at Josh. Where had he seen the man before? “What an ogre you must think me. I came because, yes, your marriage was illegal, but Mother wanted to know if you’re happy. She also sent her own wedding dress to you and asks that you be remarried in it, and she wants a photograph of her daughter and new son-in-law. I hoped there would be no problems with that so I took the liberty of arranging for the ceremony to take place tomorrow afternoon. I chose pink roses for flowers. I hope that’s all right. I do need to return home as soon as possible.”

  “Yes,” Carrie said hesitantly. “I think that’s possible.”

  “Good,” ’Ring said, picking up his bag the driver had thrown from the top of the coach. “Shall we go?” he asked, sweeping his arm aside so Carrie could lead him to the hotel.

  “I’ll say this for him,” Josh said. “The man’s got—”

  “Don’t say it,” Carrie groaned. “He’s got my life in his hands is what he’s got. Knowing ’Ring he has power of attorney from my father, and he is my legal guardian. I sure hope your—” she swallowed, “your wife shows up early tomorrow so we can get married when ’Ring thinks we should.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “He’s going to make me go back with him,” Carrie said gloomily. She and Josh were in ’Ring’s hotel room, waiting while ’Ring bathed.

  “Would you mind not saying that again? It’s beginning to bother me. What do you think he’s going to do? Wrap you in a blanket and kidnap you? That’s what he’ll have to do if he means to take you away from me, and even at that, I’d come after you.”

  Sitting on the sofa, Carrie looked at the worn, dusty carpet. “We just have to make him believe everything is all right. We can’t let him know there are any problems between us.”

  “There aren’t any problems between us.”

  Carrie glared at him. “Merely that you have a wife and I am carrying a child conceived in sin. You don’t know ’Ring as I do. He has a high moral character, and he would be horrified if he found out the truth.”

  Josh groaned. “I think you’ve misjudged your brother. I think he’s all too human.”

  “Ha! If ’Ring has any human emotions, he keeps them hidden.”

  Josh laughed at that in an arrogant way. “The man doesn’t hide his emotions very well at all. He dotes on you. It’s my guess that he may be the softest of your brothers when it comes to you. Your brother would give you anything you wanted; he’d do anything for you. If you wanted to marry a chimney sweep, he’d be happy for you.”

  “You don’t know anything!” Carrie snapped. “ ’Ring is—”

  “I am what, my dear sister?” ’Ring asked as he entered the room. He was freshly bathed and had on a perfectly pressed dinner suit, while she and Josh looked rumpled and dusty.

  “You are my very dearest brother,” Carrie said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his freshly shaved cheek.

  “ ‘A goodly apple rotten at the heart. O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!’ ” ’Ring quoted.

  “What is that?”

  “Shakespeare, which you’d know if you’d bothered to finish school. Shall we go down to dinner?”

  Carrie and Josh led the way, ’Ring behind them. Last night Carrie had sent one of her employees to the hotel to arrange the best that the Eternity Hotel had to offer, and now Carrie wondered what it was going to be.

  A table for three had been set in a windowed alcove of the dining room, and if Carrie had not been so nervous, she would have laughed at what she saw. Instead of the waiters wearing their usual clothes—by the look of them, what they’d dragged from under their beds—tonight they were wearing suits, most of them, by the look of the fit, borrowed. They were carrying napkins over their arms in the French manner, except that the napkins were none too clean and hadn’t been ironed.

  As soon as they were seated, the waiter picked up ’Ring’s wine glass, started to pour him some wine, saw that there was something in the glass, blew it out, then poured the wine. Carrie could see pieces of cork floating on the top of the wine and little flaky bits in the bottom of the glass. She held her breath while ’Ring took a sip.

  She expected him to do what he did at home: declare the vintage unfit to drink.

  Instead, he smiled at the waiter. “ ‘Good wine is a good familiar creature if it be well used.’ ”

  The waiter, who helped in the stables when no one was staying at the hotel, had no idea what ’Ring was saying, but he went away smiling. Soon bowl after bowl of food was placed on the table before them.

  Carrie pushed her food around her plate.

  “What do you do for a living, Mr. Greene?” ’Ring asked.

  Looking at Josh, Carrie held her breath. It was one thing to tell Josh that her brother wouldn’t care that Josh had no money, but then again, men were odd about money. She hoped Josh would have sense enough to, well, make his farm sound a bit better than it was.

  “I raise worms,” Josh said. “Fields of them.”

  Carrie gave a sound very much like a whimper.

  “I see,” ’Ring said. “Anything else?”

  “A few beetles, a rather nice crop of weeds, but corn worms are my specialty. Nice fat green ones. They eat every ear of corn I grow.”

  “ ‘O thou weed, who art so lovely fair and smell’st so sweet that the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst ne’er been born!’ ” ’Ring said.

  Carrie ignored ’Ring’s poetry spouting. “ ’Ring, it’s not true that Josh grows only weeds and worms, at least it’s not the whole truth. Josh can do many things very well.”

  Both men turned to her, both of them with identical looks of interest on their faces.

  “Pray tell me what I can do, my dear,” Josh said.

  Carrie narrowed her eyes at him.
He was taking this as a joke. When they were dealing with Josh’s brother it had been serious business, but now that her own somewhat difficult brother was here it could be treated like a joke. “He loves his children very much and he loves me and I love him.”

  Josh smiled at ’Ring. “She has no reason to love me, she just does.”

  ’Ring smiled back. “ ‘I have no other but a woman’s reason: I think him so, because I think him so.’ ”

  “Exactly,” Josh said and seemed extremely pleased with ’Ring. “More of this fine brew, brother-in-law?”

  ’Ring held his glass aloft. “ ‘O thou invisible spirit of wine! If thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!’ ”

  “What is wrong with you, ’Ring!” Carrie snapped. “Can’t you say anything but that awful poetry?”

  ’Ring gave an exaggerated look of self-pity. “ ‘She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect to the north star.’ ”

  “Stop it!” Carrie said and banged her fist on the table. “What in the world is wrong with you?”

  ’Ring shook his head a bit, as though to clear it. “I don’t know. Ever since I stepped off the stage, every Shakespearian phrase I’ve ever heard has been running through my head. In the bath I was trying to do all of Hamlet.”

  “You can do them at home,” she said fiercely. “Right now I’d like to spend time with you and my husband and not with some two-bit stage player.”

  ’Ring opened his mouth, looked as though he were going to quote something again, but closed it. Then, with a serious look, he said, “You were telling me about your husband. About the worms, I believe.”

  “And the weeds,” Josh added.

  Carrie sat across the table and looked at both of them. She had no idea what was going on, but she felt like getting up and leaving them there alone. They both wore the same smug, self-satisfied look that only men can put on, as though they were superior merely because they had been born men.