Once We Were (20 page)

“
Or a clever selection by a man who has studied his prize. There's no hiding it, Cora. You have a secret admirer.”

“
No such thing.”

“
If you won't tell me, I'll get it out somehow. I
have
my ways,” Beatrice grinned.

“
She wouldn't shut up about it,” Cora told Mr. Luckett. “I couldn't believe it was Ioan and most certainly couldn't tell Beatrice. I knew exactly who she thought of when stroked her ring finger. She blackmailed as cleverly as she could to get me to say it. It was practically a dream. One moment I was downing a bottle of brandy and wishing on stars. The next, he was there. Who knew how to tell that story? I decided I wasn't the expert and kept quiet. Ioan ran away for a reason and Beatrice wasn't ready for another heartbreak. I kept him a secret for both their benefit. I didn't expect it to turn out as it did. For all I knew, the ship would dock and we'd carry on with our lives again.

“
I wish she knew how sorry I am. I suffer too, Mr. Luckett. I wish I had the answer that gave us both peace. It may never come. Yet we must trust in our hearts that it worked out all the better for her and she fell into a sound sleep in heaven.”

Mr. Luckett felt worse than he had walking in. Cora sincerely loved Beatrice and her disappearance tortured her. He held the salvation to her suffering, but sat still and said nothing.

Ioan casually strolled along the dock. The drunken brute wasn't bothered by him. The quiet waves put him to sleep. Ioan let the bat slip from his coat. His grip tightened.  He didn't think. He just swung. Over and over again. He couldn't hear the man scream over the dysphoric outcries of his own soul. He felt nothing but satisfaction.

“Signore, please! What have I done?” the man wailed. Ioan meant to break every bone. Every blow would prove more destructive than the last until there was no man left. “She had nothing to do with it. She was just a passenger. Look at me, you coward! You sent for me, didn't you? We deserved a chance? Is that what you want? You want someone to blame something on? Here's your chance. I'll give you good reason to hate me.” Ioan drew his pistol.

“
Signore, I don't know what you say!” he cried. “I don't know you!”

“
She didn't deserve what you did to her. She is not
the reason this is happening. It's our problem. We have to live with it no matter how much it kills us. I have to live with it. If you want someone to blame, you're welcome to me. You have a moment to decide. After which, I'll kill you.”

“
Signore, please!” the man pleaded, as Ioan dropped in the bullets. “Please, I beg you! My wife expects me to come home! She's frightened to be alone! She'll never stop crying! Please don't shoot!”

Mr. Spruce seized Ioan's arm. “Enough,” he hissed. He stared bewildered into Ioan's eyes. He hardly knew him. Ioan looked at the Italian man. He was unrecognizable now. His eyes were swollen shut. His hands trembled violently in front of the pistol. “Please!” he sobbed. “My wife! For her sake! Please don't kill me!”

Ioan opened the revolver. The bullets fell back in his palm. “It's not him,” he said quietly. “This is the wrong man.”

He turned and started for the car.

Chapter 16

Cora peaked through the church doors. Her side of the church filled with excited faces. Mr. Spruce sat stiffly next to Mrs. Dillsworth on Ioan's side. She slapped him with her fan when he got too close. “Have you seen my father?” Cora asked Lavinia. “I'm worried he's lost himself. He's gone missing since Thursday. He should be here by now.”

“You think he would miss his daughter's wedding?” Lavinia said, touching up her dress. “Not for the world, Miss Harlow. You have nothing to worry about. Just breathe. Put one foot in front of the other and keep your eyes on Ioan. He is the most important thing in your world right now.”

“
How am I suppose to look at him?” Cora asked. “I'm so nervous. I know it's mad. I've known him for so long. How can this time be any different?”

“
Like seeing him for the first time again, I suppose,” Lavinia smiled. “You'll be fine. Save that color in your cheeks for your wedding night.”

Cora blushed.

“I saw that Miss Cora, you dirty devil. What are you thinking about?” Lavinia demanded.

“
Probably not the naughty things you want to hear,” Cora answered. “It's actually quite innocent.”

“
Go on then. What were you thinking when you first saw Mr. Saier?”

Cora pictured Ioan again on the docks. “I thought how lucky a girl I would be if his eyes were for me,” she said quietly. Lavinia kept her silence as she fixed Cora's curls. The remedies for a nervous bride are happy thoughts.

Ioan walked ahead of her. Cora followed him around the officer's quarters to a staircase on the starboard side. They came to a long white door with a polished brass handle. Ioan took out his key and slipped it into the lock, glancing around to make sure the halls were clear. When he finally had the door open, he stood aside for Cora. She hesitated.

“No worries. I don't have a bunk mate,” he told her, as if that was her biggest worry. Carefully, she stepped into the cabin. It was dimly lit by a lamp hanging over the a wooden polished desk. A huge map of the world's oceans and ship routes was posted below the lamp. A detailed model of the Titanic perched on the desk next to a stack of unfinished paperwork. Three golden portholes crossed the room, and clocks set for every time zone ran down the wall. Next to the desk was an iron coat hanger with Ioan's freshly washed uniform for the next morning. His trunk stood neatly by the bedside table, mounted by a bottle of brandy and a shot glass. Another suitcase sat below his bed, next to an extra pair of polished dress shoes, and a stack of sailing books. An extra hat rested on the bedpost. The bed was neatly made, but cluttered by letters and books.

A trunk draped with a white table cloth sat in the middle of the room. Dinner was set amidst small flickering white candles. “I'm sorry I couldn't take you to a nice restaurant. Crew regulations and such,” Ioan apologized. “I thought this should do.”

Cora bashfully sat on one side of the trunk and Ioan took the other. He sat his hat on the desk and served Cora's plate. His hand shook slightly. For a long while, they said nothing. He looked all the more handsome in candlelight.

“
I've never had lamb,” she remarked.

“
This job does yield its privileges,” Ioan answered.

“
You shouldn't have done this,” Cora said.

“
Why shouldn't I? I'm having dinner with an old friend.”

“
I'm not accustomed to friends spoiling me like this.”

“
I don't know how good I am at spoiling,” he said. “However, every lady deserves to be served, whether she's first, second, or third class, whatever the devil that means. I'm glad it hasn't happened before. I take pride in being the first.”

“
You, sir, need a wife.”

“
Why do people keep telling me that? Don't I look happy? A man can have everything he desires. Wealth, property, and influence, but if he's unwed then he must be
miserable
. Is that the female opinion these days?”

“
But of course!” Cora agreed. “Utter misery and no hope of ever returning to happiness. Marry, Ioan, marry. Good for the soul. Keeps you happy. Keeps you out of trouble. It's loathsome.”

Ioan laughed. “It's agony. I'm happy. I always have been. Yet I suppose if I listened every once in a while and did find a woman who made me a little happier, whom I could serve all the time and learn to spoil, she'd be very much loved. And she'd know it. I'd give her the world if I could, though I'm sure she'd throw it back at me. It's not that pretty of a place. Have you got something in your eye?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

“
Have I done something? You're all teary.”

“
I'm
not
crying!” she protested. “It's the onions.”

“
But there are no onions.”

“
I'm sure there was at least one. You should really talk to the cook about that.” Cora turned to dab her eyes with her handkerchief. Ioan blinked. “What should I do?” he asked awkwardly.

“
What do you mean to do?”

“
I don't know!” he said. “I've never had a girl cry at dinner before.”

“
I'm not crying!”

“
Well, you can tell me anything,” he assured her. “At least I can be of service there. You know I'll do anything you ask.”

“
Life was much simpler when we were children, Ioan. Remember our little sailboat? I wish we could do that again. We chased shooting stars around the bay.”

“
You're in luck, miss. Atlantic nights are ruled by those rogue sparkling things. You can make as many wishes as you want here,” he said, helping her to her feet. He didn't let go of her hand. He checked the halls.“We'll round the wheel house. Too many lookouts on duty.”

“
Why is that necessary? Where are you taking me?” Cora questioned. 

“
To sea, Miss Harlow,” Ioan grinned. “ Out to the Atlantic in a little sailboat.”

“
Are you mad?” she cried after him. He strode for the officer's promenade deck. No one was around. The air was too cold.

Ioan approached lifeboat 2, which hung on its davit ready for use. “I could get thrown off the ship for this,” he said, pulling back the canvas.

Cora glanced at the hundred foot drop straight to ocean. “My God, you are mad.” Ioan laid his coat on the bottom and held his hand out to her. “After you, miss.” Cora hesitated, but slowly took his hand and allowed herself to be lured into the boat. She curled up inside and Ioan slipped in next to her.

“
I'm getting fired for sure,” he whispered.

Cora shivered. “Are you scared of heights?” he asked.

“It's so cold,” she said. Ioan stripped down to his under vest and shirt. He draped his navy jacket over her. “All better?”

Cora watched the sky glisten. She could almost touch it. “I've never been this close to heaven before,” she said. “It's indescribable.” She turned to Ioan, but he wasn't looking at the stars. “Nor have I,” he whispered as he gazed into her eyes. He wanted to say more, but nothing was good enough. “I really would give you the world, Cora, if you asked me to.”

“I don't want the world,” she whispered. “Just you. Your heart is enough.”

“
You've always had it.” He kissed her forehead gently. It was enough to melt the pieces of a broken heart back together. His lips lingered there for moments. Cora wanted more. She searched for his lips until his nose caressed hers. Finally, she found them and though they were gentle, they were dangerously addictive. She lost her heart again, but took his prisoner in the battle. She locked it tightly away.

“Ladies and gentleman, I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Ioan Saier.” The words couldn't come sooner for Ioan. He endured the usual congratulations before stealing Cora away from Lavinia. He held her as the sun slipped from the sky. She was breathtaking. “Cora,” he whispered. “No, I should address you as I now have every right to. My wife, Mrs. Ioan Saier.”

“
If you've got something to say, Mr. Saier, get on with it. You're duller than a virgin,” Cora teased him. “Come on. We'll miss dinner.”

“
Damn the dinner,” he persisted. “Damn the dancing. And the gifts. And the guests. And the church.”

“
Stop swearing at the church! That's bad luck,” Cora sealed his lips. “Lavinia worked her fingers to the bone to arrange this.”

“
Let her have it then,” Ioan said. “It's unnecessary now. I got what I wanted. Come with me.”

“
Come with you where?” Cora cried.

“
Well, I'm suppose to carry you away. Isn't that how it goes?” Ioan asked. “On a horse to Africa?”

“
Where did you get that stupid idea?”

“
Well that's the rubbish they write in those books, and then you women get those ideas in your head and we have to match up to it or it's hell to pay.”

“
Just take me home, Mr. Saier, in your two seater car.”

“
Yes, ma'am. Right away.” Ioan scooped her into his arms and hurried toward the car.

“
Ioan, wait!” she cried. “What will you tell the guests?”

Before Ioan opened the door, a
car raced by. “That loony is going to hurt someone,” Ioan protested. The rest happened so quickly. A man rolled out the backseat into the street. His wrists and ankles were bound. “Father!” Cora screamed. The car turned around and charged to crush him. Ioan had no time to grab her. She ignored the speeding car and ran for her father. It would not stop.

"Cora! Wait!” Ioan called. He waved down the driver. "Stop the car!" he shouted. Cora fell beside her father. A knife gutted his chest. The car raced full speed. "Cora, it's a trap!" Mr. Harlow gasped. "Don't worry over me! Get out of here!"

Cora desperately dragged him from the road, but her wedding gown got in the way. Blood, gravel and soot stained the white lace. "Cora, please!" her father pleaded. "I won't see him kill you! That's all he wants!"

“
Push yourself forward! I'll pull,” she ordered.

The
car veered to the side. A shotgun rested on the window. The barrel searched for Cora.
Ioan sprinted toward her
. She looked up into the gunman's hateful eyes. They immobilized her. Mr. Luckett got there first. He fell on top of Cora as the gunman pulled the trigger. A bullet pierced his side, and another strayed into the lampposts nearby. The last struck the wedding carriage, piercing a horse in the heart.

Cora clenched her father, watching her fairy tale fall apart.
Ioan charged after the car. His rage blinded his reason. Mr. Spruce tackled him to the ground. "Get down, you fool!" he shouted as a bullet swept over their heads. The car sped away. The guests scattered around the churchyard in panic. The terrified horses trampled over their wounded companion, killing the horse instantly. The reins threatened to snap. Mr. Spruce shrieked for order. “I need a physician!” a young man cried, supporting Mr. Luckett over his shoulder.

“
Darling, are you hurt?” Ioan questioned, turning her face to his. She didn't know when he got there. The heartache was too great. Her shocked body numbed it all. She felt nothing. She did nothing. Ioan pulled Mr. Harlow from her arms and dragged him away. He shouted something at Lavinia. She appeared at Cora's side immediately. “Come, Mrs. Saier, let's get you out to the car. He'll be fine. Mr. Saier will take care of him.”

Ioan was no doctor, but his years as a sailor taught him enough to sustain a man until help arrived. “That's a good fellow, Mr. Harlow,” he assured him. “Let's have a look at you. Come now, sir. It's not so bad. You want to look sharp when Cora sees you, don't you?” The blood darkened Ioan's black trousers. He yanked his shirt off and tightly wrapped the wound. He avoided Mr. Harlow's eyes. He wanted to believe there was still hope for him. He had to hope for Cora. For all his hope, it was not enough to clot the injury. Ioan turned away to knot the tourniquet. It was only a moment. He looked back into the man's face. Mr. Harlow died quietly in his arms.

*              *              *

Beatrice Luckett died on Titanic. Mr. Luckett made it very clear the story wouldn't change. The missing heiress remained missing. After hearing of Mr. Harlow's murder and Mr. Luckett's condition,  Emmett packed his bags for Boston. The whole lot of them were cursed. Cora was truly the devil. Anyone associated with that woman ended up dead. Not him. He was fed up with the madness. He wanted to forget this ever happened, settle down with a nice submissive woman, and enjoy his wealth. No, forget the woman and devotion. He'd attend parties, have expensive club  dinners, and spend time with many interesting young women. That's the life he should be living. Not the mess he entangled himself into. He'd felt, seen, and heard enough. He'd exit this story blissfully.