Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (29 page)

I managed to make my way back through the
thick crowd that had formed around the men. A dozen or so were
Confederate soldiers, the others only curious bystanders who could
do little to stop the impending fight.

Just as Horace was about to throw the first
punch, an officer appeared, reprimanding his troops. “That will be
enough! Private Happ, Corporal Baxter! Remove yourselves from this
scuffle!”

The men hesitated but forfeited the fight
without defiance and went on their way. The crowd scattered,
leaving the gentleman who had saved me from certain abuse wiping
the dust off his trousers. As he turned around, my legs nearly gave
way. He called out to me before I had a chance to disbelieve the
chance encounter.

“Amelia Arrington!”

I would have never imagined seeing Perry
Montgomery again! Forsaking a proper greeting, I threw my arms
around him, relieved and grateful that he’d arrived just in
time.

“Where did you come from?” I asked,
desperately clinging to him.

“It doesn’t matter where I came from; it’s
where I’m going,” he replied and pulled me back. “Let me get a good
look at you.”

His sparkling eyes looked me over, his full
lips displayed a sincere smile. “You are breathtaking. More
beautiful even than I remember.”

Perry Montgomery wore civilian clothes, which
caused me to question his state of affairs.

“I thought you were serving for the
Confederacy, like Daddy.”

“Shhhhh, Amelia, not so loud. Come with me
and let us get reacquainted,” he suggested, and I agreed.

He led me to the nearest hotel saloon. “Oh, I
shouldn’t go in there,” I whispered and stayed back.

He took my hands in his, and his face turned
serious. “Amelia, it is no coincidence that you and I have been
reunited today. It has been my intention all along.”

My eyes opened wide with disbelief. Perry
Montgomery had returned to Savannah just to see me!

We sat at a table in the far corner and he
ordered a mint julep for me and bourbon for him. The pretty saloon
girl didn’t seem to think anything of us, barely making eye contact
as she set the drinks down.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“I need a room for the night,” he said,
smiling across at me.

I took a gulp of my drink; my throat was
parched from the long day.

“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of that for
you.”

He sat back, sipped on his drink, and stared
at me. From my neck to my face a heated blush rose, and I bashfully
looked away. He always had a way of drinking me in and gazing
straight through me, right into my soul. I took another gulp and
tried to relax, waiting for him to reveal all the details of how he
came to Savannah to see me. But instead, he wanted to know what I
was doing in Savannah.

“What were you doing alone at the train
station? Do you know what just about happened to you?”

I didn’t know what to say. Should I confess
the truth and reveal all the events that led me to escaping the
walls of Sutton Hall? I asked myself. Or was a lie in order, just
to save myself, and Perry Montgomery as well, from unnecessary
grief?

I quickly decided to tell him half truths. I
told him about the state of the plantation and my brother’s
arrival, of course leaving out the details of our secret
relationship and Daddy’s departure. I described Warren and revealed
his marriage proposal, making that the reason I ran away.

“I can’t marry him; I don’t love him!” I
cried.

“There, there, sweet Amelia. You don’t have
to marry that man. You shouldn’t marry him,” he said in a hushed
voice, reaching over and dabbing the tears off my cheeks with the
tips of his fingers.

“I don’t?” I sniveled.

“My wife is long buried, my children are gone
away with their grandparents, my plantation is no more. My
intentions were to volunteer for the Confederate Army, but I
couldn’t gather enough courage, I confess, and I am ashamed,” he
said in a hushed voice. He leaned in close to whisper in my ear. “I
feared that if I died in battle, I would never be with you. I love
you, Amelia. I came back to Savannah to ask for your hand in
marriage and to take you away. I’m leaving for Florida tomorrow,
and I want you to come with me. Will you do me the honor and agree
to be my wife?” he asked, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

Just when it seemed that no one cared for me
anymore, there was Perry Montgomery, who began a lengthy private
confession. For all the months that had passed, as his grief over
his losses nearly consumed him, it was the thought of returning to
ask for my hand in marriage that kept him from falling into the
deepest despair.

I didn’t know what to think. I was
speechless. Perry Montgomery loved me, loved me and wanted to marry
me. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard it right.

Perry noticed my uncertainty, and before I
could ask a barrage of questions, he quickly took my hands in his
and looked deep into my eyes. “Marry me, Miss Amelia Arrington, and
I will make you the happiest woman alive,” he implored. “This I
promise you.”

“But Eugenia? Daddy? What will they say?” I
stammered, unsure, confused. “We can’t go to her. She will not
allow you and me to be married. She will think it’s sinful, as we
are related,” I implored for him to understand.

“We’re only related by marriage.” he patted
my hands and added reassuringly, “It’s all right. We won’t go to
her. Your father isn’t here. We will go away without their consent.
Without anyone’s consent. I am fine with that.”

“Eugenia will think it is improper, sinful,
and wicked,” I said, recalling the night she forced me into the
church and made me beg for mercy for being such a sinful, evil
girl, just like my mother. Then, I instantly thought of Patrick, my
beloved Patrick. Was there any hope for us at all? I asked myself
as I looked deep into Perry’s eyes. Had there ever been a future
for us? I wanted to think so in the worst way. But it wasn’t
Patrick sitting there before me, begging me to run off with him.
No, Patrick Garrett hated me, left me, cursed our love, or what I
thought was love.

All at once I went from wishing that Patrick
and I could run away together and live as lovers to becoming Perry
Montgomery’s wife and running off with him instead. After all the
years I had dreamed of him and had written about my infatuation
with the most handsome man in Savannah in my journal, never once
did I consider those dreams would ever come true.

My predicament certainly left me with no
other choice, and after being forsaken by Patrick and madder than
ever at him, wishing I’d never laid eyes on him, I was, in fact,
joyful and relieved.

“I will marry you.”

We wasted no time and went to the justice of
the peace. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t a proper wedding dress or
even a clean dress, for that matter. It didn’t concern me that my
hair was unkempt and there was no wedding ring, nor was there an
impending celebration. All that mattered to me then was I no longer
needed Patrick Arrington to make me happy and that I was away from
the lustful eyes of Warren Stone and far from the rage of my evil
stepmother.

I floated from one dream to another. It felt
surreal when the justice of the peace pronounced us man and wife
and Perry embraced me and kissed me. I hadn’t a chance to catch my
breath or to catch up to the reality of what was happening before
we were up in the hotel room, alone, preparing for our first night
together.

At that moment my mind caught up with the
day’s traumatic events, leaving me trembling with anxiety. Perry
came half undressed, lifted me, and gently placed me on the bed. I
tried not to let him see my fear, but he felt me quiver with each
kiss he placed on my neck as he worked the buttons of my dress.

“I will be gentle. You have no idea how long
I have waited for this night, how I’ve played this dream over and
over in my mind,” he murmured. “You don’t have to do a thing, just
let me love you. Allow me to properly consummate our marriage.”

I closed my eyes, trying to fight the panic
that was setting in. I continued to see Patrick’s face flashing in
my mind. I felt as if I were betraying him. As much as I wanted to
share myself with Perry, it was Patrick who consumed me as I
reacted to the lustful kisses. Finally, I surrendered to his
affections.

“It will only hurt for a moment,” he assured
me. My hands gripped into his bare back, trying to contain my
screams of pain. He pressed his lips firmly onto mine, muffling my
agonized moans.

“Oh, Amelia, you excite me. You are, my
lovely flower, oh…” he groaned, and though I feared what was about
to happen next, I couldn’t stop it. Then, it was over. Perry lay
beside me catching his breath. I rolled over to my side and began
to sob.

“It’s all right. It was difficult for Myrna
the first time as well.” He snuggled up against me. “Soon you will
come to enjoy it. It only hurts the first time or two,” he assured
me, then turned me over and kissed me. I stared up into his dreamy
eyes, knowing he was sincere.

“I love you. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt
you. You believe me, don’t you?”

I nodded yes. I did want to be with him; I
wanted his love. I hadn’t regretted our becoming man and wife and
having him love me as a husband should.

Perry fell asleep and I sat up and watched
him for a while. He slept peacefully with a natural smile. It was
difficult to fathom all that had occurred, and I was too
emotionally and physically exhausted to go over it in my mind any
longer. Instead, I eased down under the covers, nuzzled close to
him, and said a silent goodbye to Patrick, the only other man who
would always have a secret place in my heart, even if he never
loved me at all.

~ ~ ~

The morning sun shone through the dusty
window and onto my face. I had been sleeping soundly all night,
dreaming only of happy days to come for Perry and me.

I stretched and finally opened my eyes and
smiled to myself. I was Mrs. Perry Montgomery! Perry wanted me,
needed me, longed for me, and would forever love me. The day seemed
just a little brighter because he loved me.

I rolled over and noticed he wasn’t in bed.
He had scribbled a quick note to me, left on his pillow.

Amelia,

I had to run an important errand. I should be back
before you rise. If not, dress and wait for me.

Perry

I glanced over at the clock. It read eleven.
I jumped out of bed and began to freshen up. There was water in the
pitcher and a bar of soap lying on a cloth beside it. I washed my
face, and as I was patting dry, there was a rap on the door,
followed by the voice of the saloon girl.

“Mrs. Montgomery?” she called, however, she
didn’t wait for my reply and eased the door open.

I wasn’t dressed, and I snatched the bed
sheet to shield my nakedness.

“I’m terribly sorry for disturbing you.”

“What is it? Can’t you see I’m dressing?” I
snapped. It was rude of her to barge in without permission.

“It’s Mr. Montgomery,” she said.

“What about him!”

“He’s. . . he’s . . .” she stammered.

I was becoming irritated. “He’s what?”

“He’s been killed.”

Instantly the room started spinning and I
fell to the floor, passing out from the shock.

I must have been out for some time. I woke
dressed and lying in the bed of the same hotel room, with the
saloon girl applying a cool cloth to the bump on my head.

In a flash I tried rise, but she guided me
back down. “Easy. Don’t get up just yet. Here, take a sip of
cider,” she said and eased the glass to my lips.

I pushed it away. “Where is my husband?”

Her face was forlorn and full of pity for
me.

“His body is at the undertaker’s.”

I would have never thought I had a tear left
to shed after the harrowing days I’d recently endured, but they
flowed continuously, saturating the pillow beneath my throbbing
head. I went from light sobbing to full-blown bawling.

The girl hushed me, trying to calm me down,
but I ordered her to go away. “Leave me alone!”

She didn’t take my callousness personally.
“If you need me, I will be down in the saloon.”

As soon as she was gone, I got up out of the
bed. I was emotionally numb. I felt dizzy and stumbled to the
closet, barely managing to hold myself up from falling. As if in
some kind of trance, I pulled out Perry’s travel bag and lifted it
onto the bed. I unlatched the buckles and went through his
belongings. Right away I found what I was looking for. The day was
turning late; already the sun was near setting. I needed to hurry.
I found the saloon girl behind the bar.

“What are you doing. You should be
resting!”

“The undertaker, where can I find him?”

“The funeral parlor is a block down. But Mrs.
Montgomery, you shouldn’t…”

I interrupted her. “How much for the
room?”

“The room?” She was clearly distraught.

“How much do I owe the hotel for the room?” I
snapped.

“One dollar,” she replied flatly.

I handed her the dollar, then said in a
kinder tone, “Thank you for your help. I’m sorry for my
discourtesy.”

“I understand,” she said and patted my hand
and added, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Little did she realize how many losses I’d
had in my life.

I proceeded over to the funeral parlor with
Perry’s bag in hand, fighting the sudden urge to simply crawl up on
a desolate street corner and die. Instead of succumbing to the
reality of my situation and drowning in despair, I made my way into
the parlor where I was greeted by the undertaker.

“My husband . . . Mr. Montgomery. He is
here?” I choked.

The frail old man, who was several inches
shorter than I, nodded and somberly led me toward the back room.
Before opening the curtain to the door, he turned and said,
“Haven’t had a chance to prepare him yet.”