Alana (3 page)

She was also very aware she had created a scandal along the river and in Charleston itself. Never before had a plantation been left to be run by a sixteen-year-old female child. Cries of outrage from every quarter had resounded, but Alana had won out even in that.

The Landows–Jason, his brother Robert, and their mother Esther–had come forward to claim guardianship until Alana reached her maturity. Their act helped to keep Riverbend under her control and to stifle the scandal that her father’s death had brought about.

Although Alana believed herself to be in love with Jason, she understood it was not a love of great passion but a love of loyalty, gratitude, and hope for the future. Jason had done so much for her–how could she not love him? When he had asked her to marry him, shortly before war broke out, she had accepted without qualm, knowing she would never find a kinder man, or one who better understood her needs. She was certain Jason would make a good master for Riverbend.

She had kept her hopes high throughout the war, never once surrendering to self-pity. She had kept Riverbend alive. She had salvaged much from what might have been lost and had lived every day hoping for the war’s end. But, when the end came, it had not brought Jason back to her as she had prayed.

Now, five months after the war’s end, her waiting was finally over. Her life would begin again.

Rising slowly, Alana again drew upon her deep well of determination. It was time to return to the house and ready herself to meet Jason. Come what may, she knew she would stand by her promise to Jason, and their wedding would take place as soon as possible.

When she took the first step toward the house, her legs froze and her heart lurched. Within her mind’s eye, Rafe Montgomery’s face appeared. She stared at the image for a full two seconds before realizing what she was doing. Then, forcefully, she banished the handsome face from her mind.

Rafe
Montgomery
stood bare-chested, staring out the window of the guest bedroom. Behind him, spread out on the bed, were the few items he could call his own.

A young former slave named Kitty had taken him to this room, unpacked his traveling bag and taken his one change of clothes for pressing. Five minutes later, she’d returned with a basin of hot water.

After washing the grit of the road from his hands and face, Rafe walked to the window and tried to sort out his thoughts, which were running rampant.

He had known better than to come here. He had known not to accompany Jason but to return home and avenge those who had been so treacherous to him.

For two years, he had been Jason Landow’s cellmate. In those two years, strong feelings had grown between the men. They did not have a conventional friendship, but there was a strong bond between them nonetheless. Rafe had cared for the injured Jason, nursing him after his operation and had done whatever he could to make Jason’s life comfortable. They had shared a common life–and shared, too, the same dreams.

When the war ended and freedom came, they were given clothing and enough money to return home. Jason received one other item: a wheeled chair.

Upon their release, Jason had asked Rafe to accompany him home. The comradeship they had forged had kept Jason alive, for Rafe had not let Jason die, as Jason had wanted. It would be a difficult but not impossible task for Jason to go home and face the rest of his life as a cripple. He needed help, and Rafe had been unable to refuse him this.

Besides, Rafe had realized, California was a long time away, and after two years, a few days’ delay would mean nothing.

In reality, Rafe knew he’d had another reason for agreeing to return home with Jason. The reason was raven hair, blue eyes, and the face of the angel that had allowed him to keep his sanity.

Although he thought he had prepared himself for meeting Alana, he had not in fact been ready for what he'd found. He had known of Alana for two long years, from having listened to Jason’s unending talk of her. She was the only reason Jason could find for living. Rafe knew everything about her, from the moment she had been born to the start of the war. He thought he knew her as well as any other man in the world.

But, when he’d stood before Alana, he'd realized he had been wrong. Her large, almond-shaped eyes had looked questioningly at him. Her long, dark hair had glistened wherever the sun caught its waves. Her tanned face was elegant, her beauty radiating not from her skin but from within her very person.

Above all else, the strength Alana Belfores possessed struck him the most. When he had told her his news of Jason, he’d watched her close her eyes, had seen her gather herself proudly. It had been in that instant he knew she was different from any other. He hadn’t wanted it to happen, but the moment he’d set eyes on Alana, he knew no other woman would ever satisfy him again.

Rafe knew, too, the intensity of his conviction was not simply because of his years of being deprived of the company of women; rather, it was because Alana Belfores had become a part of his life.

He recalled the stricken look on her face when he had told her of Jason’s injury. The image tore at his heart. He had wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close, but that was impossible.

torn apart by his life and his desires, Rafe knew even if there were no Jason Landow to stop him from loving Alana, there were too many miles he must yet cover and debts that must be repaid. Not debts of money, but of revenge.

What now
? he asked himself. To leave seemed the only sane response, but he knew he couldn't go. He’d known from the first moment he’d seen Alana that he could not leave. Whatever thoughts had driven him during his years as a prisoner, whatever desires and dreams he’d had, all came rushing back in that instant. Until that very moment, he could have gone away, he could have been free–but once his eyes had met hers, he could not turn away.

I am in love with her
, he told himself.
I can’t be
, he remembered.

~~~~~

An hour and a half after Rafe Montgomery had appeared, Alana was again sitting on the veranda, waiting for her first sight of the carriage and of Jason Landow. Her nerves were taut. Gone were all her hopes, her dreams, and plans she had made during the long years of war, replaced by…what?

Doing her utmost to compose herself for Jason’s homecoming, she tried to understand what was happening to her life. She refused to yield to tears. Instead, she replayed her conversation with Rafe repeatedly, trying to imagine what her future might hold.

Can this be happening
? she asked herself sadly. Alana made herself think of how fortunate she was. Jason might never have returned.
Was this not better?

Alana grasped the locket on her neck. She took the necklace off and stared at the golden scrolled surface. As thunder resounded in the distance, Alana opened the locket with trembling fingers. As she had done almost daily for the past four years, she gazed at the small photograph within. Jason’s visage–his fine-spun light hair, his intelligent, querying eyes, and the firm set of his mouth–looked back at her.

Taken the day before Jason had ridden off to the war, the picture did not show Jason’s strong and muscular body, his broad, powerful shoulders, or his long, tapering legs that had lent themselves to the lines of his uniform. But Alana, whenever she had looked at the picture, had seen not just Jason’s face but all of him.

Alana shivered. Just as she would never desert Riverbend, she would never desert Jason. No matter what fate had befallen Jason, she would stand by him, just as he had done for her before the war. She would marry him and be his wife. Together, they would run Riverbend; for without Jason Landow, Riverbend would have been lost long before the war.

A memory of years ago flashed in her mind. She had been seventeen and had been obliged to attend the wedding of a neighbor.

She had been in the salon, sitting with three young women of her own age. They were talking about the men in their lives–their desires and their needs. Marietta Handly had turned to Alana.

“Isn’t this exciting?” she’d asked girlishly.

Alana had shrugged her shoulders but remained silent.

“Oh–you have such airs,” Marietta had declared, fanning herself elegantly while she smiled snootily at the other two girls.

Alana had ignored the remark, but she had not been able to ignore what followed as Marietta started talking about her beau, Clayton Drysdale.

“Whenever he kisses me, I swear I almost swoon. I–” Marietta paused to raise her fan and cover her face, leaving only her eyes for the others to see. “When he kisses me, I get so…warm inside. Sometimes I think I’ll give in to him right then and there. It’s so hard to wait. I do love him so, and I want him!” Her last words, spoken with such conviction, took Alana by surprise.

“Want him?” she had asked without realizing she’d spoken aloud.

Marietta looked slyly at her. The other two girls smiled. “Don’t you want Jason? Don’t you just burn with desire?” she’d asked.

Alana had become embarrassed, partially because of the vulgar talk but also because she had never experienced any such desires. Then her face flushed, she had stood and glared at Marietta. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she’d stated. Without another word, she had left the room, but not before she’d heard the girls giggling at her.

Outside, she’d leaned against the closed door, but the wood was a thin barrier to the acid of their words. “Can you believe her?” a voice had said. “She puts on those virginal airs but we all know she’s been living alone with no one watching over her, don’t we? And we know how she trapped Jason Landow, don’t we?”

Alana had fled then from their false accusations–and from her own inability to understand why she couldn’t truly desire Jason and be in love with him.

Alana had thought a great deal about that exchange and had often wondered why she had never felt the passions of which Marietta had spoken. It had bothered her for a long time, and she had tried to understand that unknown part of herself. She had let Jason kiss her ardently. She had felt his excitement and passion. Try as she would, she could feel nothing in herself.

She believed that her own coolness toward Jason existed because she had put all her passions into Riverbend. She accepted this as best she could, while understanding what her duties were to her home and land.

And now Jason is coming home
, she told herself, and she would be his, with or without the passions that husband and wife are supposed to have.

She closed the locket. After replacing the golden chain about her neck, she shut her eyes for a brief moment. When she did, another picture blossomed fully, startling her with its power. It was the same image that had come to her in the garden–it was Rafe Montgomery.

Alana shivered, remembering her reaction to him. Again she felt the burning touch of his lips on her hand, and her stomach knotted as it had in the garden.

Forcefully, she opened her eyes and willed his image away. Alana turned her head and saw the sun had set and the horizon was alive with a hundred varying hues.

She could smell the jasmine in the air, and the scent of rain grew stronger. Only a few insects welcomed the coming of the night, and Alana, waiting to greet the man she had not seen in over four long years, did her best not to think of anything else.

~~~~

Dusk settled over the river country; Alana watched the shadowy form of a carriage pull up the drive. Her nerves tightened, and her legs threatened to give way.

Refusing to show any weakness, Alana started toward the steps of the veranda. A feeling of dread overcame her. She grasped the railing and took a deep, preparatory breath. Suddenly a warm, strong hand was holding her arm. Support and strength flowed from it to her.

“He’ll be in a lot of pain from the ride. He may not even be conscious. He takes a great deal of laudanum for the pain, especially when traveling.”

Alana glanced at Rafe’s face, partly obscured in the shadows of the day’s end. In the drive, some of the household staff and fieldworkers awaited Jason Landow’s arrival. Ben and Gabriel stood at the forefront, ready to carry Jason.

The carriage was halfway to the house when Alana set her foot upon the first step. A jagged streak of lightning illuminated the sky; thunder followed closely on its heels. “Courage,” she whispered to herself, not realizing she spoke aloud.

“You have that and more,” Rafe said, releasing her arm.

Alana whirled to stare at him. Her nerves were ragged, her hands shook, and her mind seemed numb. She was unable to take her eyes from him. She wanted to say something but was afraid that if she spoke, she would lose her courage. Silently she turned and went down the steps and to the front of the waiting group. Her heart raced nervously. Be calm, she sternly ordered herself. I must show no weakness.

When the carriage came to a halt, Alana stepped forward. In the same instant, the thunderstorm erupted. The violence of the storm was nothing in comparison to the violence of Alana’s emotions.

The storm’s fury roared about her, but Alana ignored the torrents of rain. She walked proudly to the carriage and gazed up at Jason Landow for the first time in over four years.

Not in her walk, nor in her face, nor in her eyes did she allow the least sign of weakness to show. No matter what hurt came upon her, her prayers had been answered, and Jason had been returned to her.

A lancing ache shot through her heart when she looked at Jason’s face. His cheeks were sunken, his face gaunt and filled with pain. His eyes were the worst. They were dull, lifeless, and unseeing.

She stared up at him and waited, unsure of what to do. Then she felt, more than saw, Rafe Montgomery step into the carriage, and the driver followed suit. Between them, they lifted Jason. Ben and Gabriel waited for the two men to maneuver Jason from the carriage and into their waiting arms.

Still ignoring the torrents of rain, Alana reached out and grasped Jason’s hand, bringing it to her breasts as she stared into his eyes. Tears fell from her eyes and mixed with the rain that had already soaked her skin and clothing as she raised his hand and pressed it to her cheek.

Her eyes held his for several more seconds before she spoke. “Welcome home, Jason,” she whispered, unable to say more lest her voice break and the fear behind her mask of welcome show through.

Jason stared at her but did not speak.

She released his hand and stood aside so Ben and Gabriel could carry him into the house.

When she started up the steps after Jason, she felt a strong hand grasp her arm and help her. Turning, she again looked into Rafe’s face.

“You must give him time,” he cautioned.

“I know,” Alana replied. Then Alana remembered her other duties. She called out to the driver, who was unlashing Jason’s wheeled chair from the carriage, “Will you stay the night?”

“I can’t, ma’am. De boss, he wants dis rig back by mornin’.”

“At least have something warm while you wait out the storm.” Alana called for Lorelei, and an instant later, the housekeeper appeared. “Fix a warm drink for the driver, and food, too.”