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Authors: Eugenia Price

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Military

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BOOK: Beauty From Ashes
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“I hope it’s all right with you, Mrs. Demere, but I told him it would be fine if he dropped by again later today after he’s delivered someone’s new baby.” Pete turned to Pauline. “That’s the real reason he didn’t come to dinner,” she explained. “The new baby was due and he needed to be there.”

“You’re pretty nice after all, strange lady,” Pauline said warmly. “May I be excused from the table, Mama and Papa? I know that’s the new Robinson baby because Mrs. Robinson’s been sticking out something fierce for a long time. If I’m excused, I’ll run to meet Dr. Sam!”

“You’re excused, Pauline,” Jessie said. “Just don’t go too far if you don’t see the

doctor coming soon.” To Pete, after the 689 child left the room, she added, “You’re patient with our only daughter, Miss Fraser.”

“I like her a lot. And I hope I didn’t overstep my place as a houseguest by agreeing that Dr. Sam might call on me this evening. I really can’t imagine what made me do that! I realize I should have spoken with you first, Mrs. Demere.”

“Wouldn’t we both be happier if I became Jessie to you and you Pete to me? And you’re free to invite anyone you please to this house. Paul and I are so, so glad you’re here.” She laughed softly. “And weathering our daughter’s table talk so well.”

Pete laughed. “Think nothing of that, please. I grew up with my mother’s trying to calm me down at the table. And I’d love it if you and I used our first names with each other. My real first name is Rebecca, but probably because I was so noisy as a child, I’ve always been called Pete. Actually, Mama has always told me my father liked the nickname Pete so much that he was going to name me Peter had I been a boy.”

Beaming proudly because he was so fond of his

Aunt Pete, Fraser said, “The truth is, Dr. Sam already calls her Miss Pete, doesn’t he, Aunt Pete?”

An hour or so later, Pete was sitting by the parlor window in the Demere farmhouse, pretending to read, when Dr. Sam rode up on his big brown horse with Pauline behind him, clinging for dear life to his clean white shirt. Within seconds Pete was on the front porch, completely forgetting that a young woman was not supposed to act so eager to see any young gentleman she had just met.

Well, she thought, making herself stop at the top of the steps that led to the porch, I’m not all that young anymore and certainly not in the habit of receiving gentleman callers.

“Did you deliver the new baby, Dr. Sam?” she called, fully expecting talkative Pauline to answer her, which she did. Yes, the new baby was there and it was a boy.

“Why don’t we all go swing?” Pauline almost shouted, reminding Pete still again of herself as a child.

“Swing, Pauline?” the doctor asked, feigning surprise that she had even thought of such

an unladylike diversion. “I’ve come 691 to call on Miss Pete, sweetheart, and that means you think of something else to do.”

Pauline wilted. “I suppose I’m too young to be a part of your call.”

“No, not too young, but don’t you think Miss Pete and I need a little time alone to get acquainted? After all, you had dinner together.”

With another of her exaggerated sighs, Pauline gave them both a long look, turned, and ran abruptly toward the rope swing.

“I must say, Doctor, you’re as skillful with seven-year-olds as with newborn babes. Does this come naturally to you?”

Revealing attractive though slightly overlapped white teeth, Dr. Sam laughed as he took her arm and headed them toward a narrow path that led through a scattered stand of cabbage palms and gum trees beside Paul Demere’s flourishing patch of tomato plants.

“You must be tired after delivering that baby. Will we find a place to sit down near here?”

“I think I remember an old live oak up ahead, but at least we’re alone—and together. Am I dreadfully presumptuous to be so glad

about that?”

“I suppose not. In fact, I’m rather relieved too. Everyone here is new to me except Paul Demere, and when I knew him, he had eyes only for my lovely sister Annie, Fraser’s mother.”

“I know. But don’t sell his present wife short. She’s a remarkable lady.”

“No one has to convince me of that,” Pete said. “Jessie’s already done that herself.”

“Why did you come all the way to Jasper, Miss Pete?”

“Because I’ve loved my nephew, Fraser Demere, since the first moment I set eyes on him. He’s devoted to his stepmother and wanted me to know her. That’s enough for me.”

“Young Fraser’s devoted to you, believe me, and he’s also counting heavily on your convincing your mother that Jessie Demere is as fine a woman as he believes her to be.”

“Mama’s heart’s still broken over losing my sister Annie. I don’t mind telling you—and I don’t think I really need to tell you—that Mama still resents both Jessie and Paul for marrying so soon after Annie died trying to give

Paul a son—Fraser. Within a few 693 months Paul appeared at our door on St. Simons Island and took the baby away from Mother.”

“I know. Jessie told me herself.”

“Jessie?”

“She’s like that—direct, sensitive to the feelings of others. All these years during which she’s borne Paul Demere six more children, she’s known of your mother’s heartache and of her bitterness toward her.”

“I consider that impertinent,” Pete said firmly.

“You won’t, wonderful lady, after I remind you that your nephew, Fraser Demere, and I have been close friends for much of his life.”

Pete let her shoulders slump a little. “Fraser has known for a long time that Mama’s been bitter toward Jessie and Paul, hasn’t he?”

“Yes. And you know perfectly well that’s one of the big reasons he so wanted you to visit here. There’s really no need for you to pretend about anything with me, Miss Pete.” As tall as Pete was, Sam could actually look down at her when

he smiled his melting smile. “I don’t intend to pretend with you just because we just met and it’s probably considered proper. I—I think I loved you before we met, though, Pete. Do I need that Miss? May I call you Pete?”

With a startled laugh, Pete said just above a whisper, “I guess I loathe pretense more than anything else. Please do call me Pete. But also don’t make me suffer any more shock at myself.”

“You’re shocked at yourself?”

“Yes, I am! I’ve never spoken so plainly to a gentleman in my entire life. I’m not sure I like doing it. It—gives me a strong feeling that somehow I should take myself in hand. I don’t think I’ve known this giddy feeling since the day we were on a picnic at Kennesaw Mountain up in Marietta and I decided to let myself go and run down a fairly steep mountain path—so fast I couldn’t stop.”

“And did you like the way that made you feel, Pete?”

“Yes, but I didn’t like myself for liking it. All my thirty-four years, I’ve been disgustingly proud of my ability to control my

feelings.” 695

“And do you know why that made you proud?”

“Of course I know!”

“Why?”

“Because when I’m in control, I feel— safe.”

Sam stopped walking, took her by the shoulders, and turned her toward him. “I think that surprises me more than anything else either of us has said in this rather surprising conversation.”

“Why does it surprise you? Any woman needs to feel safe.”

“Forgive me for being blunt, but I just plain don’t believe that about you. You’re not any woman, Pete.”

“What am I?”

“You’re—well, you’re Pete. And to me that makes you different from any other woman in the world. I’ve known for a long time that if I ever had the good fortune to meet you face-to-face, you would be unlike anyone else—anywhere. You see, I’ve been far more than just interested in you since young Fraser came home from his trip seven years ago to Savannah and to Marietta. He told me you were not like anyone else. Are you anything like his

own mother was?”

“Annie? Heavens, no! She was all beauty. A near angel. One would never have guessed we were sisters.”

“As I expected,” Sam said, “the lad loves you because you’re altogether—you.”

“Well, I certainly love Fraser. In fact, since we’ve both lost our sanity in this conversation, I may as well tell you that for the first time in my life, I almost long to have a son, if he could be like Fraser.”

“Are you telling me the truth?”

“Have you ever known such an appealing young man?”

“No, I haven’t. And I’ve long ago lost count of how many times I’ve had the same wish—for a son like Fraser.” His smile came again. “At least we have that in common. And the loss of our sanity. Both of which I like. To prove it, here comes another wild question: Pete, have you ever loved anyone?”

“No. I mean—not since I was a child, and you will think I’ve taken leave of my senses. But I did love an Island boy who died when we were both children. Until—until—was She broke off abruptly.

“Until what, Pete?” 697

“You have gone too far, sir. I require at least a small amount of sanity in my friends.”

“That’s odd,” he laughed. “So do I. But I can wait. Not always gracefully, but I can wait.”

Chapter 54

When she left Marietta in March 1860, Pete had every intention of beginning the return trip at least by mid-April. She not only hated to miss the violets that spread their purple wonder across Mama’s front yard, but fully expected to be more than ready to leave the Demere house within a month or so. It was now May fifteenth.

All those half-formed plans had not taken into account the pure joy of knowing that almost every day she would have at least a few minutes alone with Dr. Sam Smith. Being Pete, this both intrigued and annoyed her. Yet, she had to admit that even though Fraser teased her about Dr. Sam, after a time the intrigue began to win out. She no longer minded her nephew’s teasing. Her guarded but

definite change of attitude registered plainly with the boy, whose extraordinary good looks never failed to cause Pete to think of his mother and of Paul Demere. Fraser was slight like Paul and had Annie’s pale blue eyes. And although she was only his stepmother, something about his highly sensitive nature and good humor was very much like Jessie Sinclair Demere, whom Pete liked enormously.

“Do you know something, Jessie?” she asked as the two sat over a second cup of coffee one May morning. “I’m still here—taking up sleeping space in poor Pauline’s bed every night and causing you extra trouble—as much because of you as Fraser. I like you. I just plain like you and I’ll miss our talks together when I’ve gone home.”

Jessie touched Pete’s hand. “Then we’re even,” she said with her appealing smile. “I’ve wanted you to be my friend since the first day you and your mother visited at the Caters’ on St. Simons back when I was a hired governess. I envied your glorious red hair, and you always seemed so sure of yourself.”

Pete frowned. “No more. Haven’t you noticed? I’m anything but sure of myself these

days.” 699

“Are you in love with Dr. Sam? He’s in love with you, and the man believes, almost with the certainty with which a child believes its mother, that both of you have simply been waiting for each other all these years.”

“And do you believe that, Jessie?”

“I believe Sam means it with all his heart. He’s a fine doctor, struggling to practice in the wrong place. He’s a lonely man, too. Pete, don’t you believe it?”

“Do I believe him or do I believe we’ve been waiting for each other?”

“I’m not quite sure.

But except when he fails to leave his wine bottle alone, he’s a most dependable, trustworthy, truthful man. And never, never has he neglected a patient because of his tippling. That tells me something important about the man. He needs more focus to his life, more of a reason not to dull the pain of his uselessness.”

“I think if anyone else used that word useless about him, I’d resent it. I don’t with you because I know you had a reason for using it. Please tell me.”

“He’s anything but useless! Still, the effect on

him is the same because much of the time when he’s just waiting between patients, he genuinely feels useless.”

“And then he drinks.”

“I could weep over him sometimes, Pete. I’ve never seen him out of control or even acting foolish. He just reaches for a glass of wine, as he says, `to kill the pain.` As I’ve said, he’s very lonely.”

“And that makes me feel as though you’re somehow blaming me!”

Jessie laughed. “Well, I’m not blaming you, but he does need a reason for living.”

“For—living?”

“Yes. Both his parents are dead. He has no brothers or sisters. His medical practice is his life, and we’re just so sparsely populated around Jasper. Has he talked to you much about Marietta?”

“Too much! At first I talked and talked about the bright prospects anyone in almost any line of work would have in a growing, prosperous place like Marietta—until I caught on. Jessie, how would I or any other woman know the real reasons he keeps asking about life up there? I

know he doesn’t earn a decent living 701 here.”

“Wait a minute, Pete. Not so fast! If you’re even hinting that Sam is an opportunist, forget it. He is not. I’d swear to that.”

“He proposed to me last week,” Pete ventured, almost shyly. “Marietta is growing by leaps and bounds. He could build a good practice there. I can’t help thinking of these things.”

Jessie looked at her for a long time, then said, “You do keep on surprising me, Pete.”

“Why?”

“Because I happen to know you’ll be thirty-five in November and you should recognize—I think any woman with a mind like yours would recognize— when you’re being lied to. I knew Paul thought a lot of me, but I also knew he needed a mother for his infant son, Fraser. It so happened that I loved him enough to marry him and take my chances on giving him such a good life, he’d eventually love me. Pete? Don’t you believe Sam loves you for yourself?”

After a moment Pete said, “If I told you how little I know about men, Jessie, you wouldn’t

believe me anyway. The truth is, I don’t know at all whether he loves me for me or not. Laugh if you like, but when I was a child, I pledged myself to marry my best St. Simons playmate. Then he died before he was seven and I was less than eight.”

Jessie stared at her. “Pete, have you stayed faithful to that childhood pledge all these years?”

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