The Color of Ivy (27 page)

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Authors: Peggy Ann Craig

BOOK: The Color of Ivy
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“And the infant?”

Sam paused, as if debating whether to tell her or not.  When she looked up, he sighed and told her, “Apparently, the Earl was furious your sister had become pregnant with his child.  After her death, he had the child disposed of.  It was suffocated.”

A tear fell from each of Ivy’s eyes.

“The Earl’s son testified his father had been feeding Moira poison in hopes that she would miscarry the child.  We believe it was the effects of the poison which ultimately killed your sister.”

She nodded, though it felt limp.

Sam went to reach for her, then caught himself short and drew his hands back.  “Ivy, try and take comfort in the knowledge that they were buried together.”

A
humorless chuckle escaped her lips.  The only comfort Ivy received was knowing the Earl was dead.  She could only hope it had been a painful death.

Lifting a hand, she swiped at the tears and found Sam watching her closely.  There was concern in his expression.

“I had hoped that she had somehow survived as I had, but in my heart I’ve always known she was gone.”

He drew in a breath and would have said something
, but the sound of a distant train whistle interrupted him.

Glancing in the train station
’s direction, she impressed herself when she was able to produce a wobbly grin.  “It looks like it’s on schedule today.”

When she looked back at him, there was so much sorrow in his eyes
, she had to fight the urge to bury herself against his chest.  The level of despair in his gaze had her wondering if it was for her and Moira, or for her and Sam.

She swallowed the painful lump in her throat.  “Again, thank ye.  This means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome.  I’m glad we were able to put some closure on this for you.”

She hated the way he said
we
.  It sounded entirely too much as one.

“Goodbye.”  With all her effort, she forced her hand out and offered it to him.

He stared at it, but did not take hold of it.  When several seconds past, Ivy said, “Y-ye’re going to miss yer train.”

But still he did not move.

“Sam. . .” she whispered his name, unable to look him in the eye.

“Are you still going to
Ireland?”

Her eyes fell to the formal letter still clutched in the opposite hand.  Her eyes automatically sought out Moira’s name.  None w
as found.  The only mention of her was in reference to the bodies being positively identified.  “No.”

“Ivy,” he muttered
in anguish, and then leaned slightly forward to whisper.  “Come with me.  Please.”

She dropped her hand and brought her eyelids down hard over the growing tears.  Unable to speak, she simply shook her head.

He sighed heavily.  “All right.  I guess this is goodbye then.”

“A-aye.”

He paused, then said, “I won’t forget you.”

“Nor I y
ou.”

Without another word he t
ook his leave.  Only then did she raise her eyes and watch as he leaped onto a passing electric car.  He turned to look back, but did not wave.  Ivy was unable to tear her eyes from him as she watched the electric car crest the top of the road and disappear.  Only then was she able to drag her gaze away and head for the prison.  Every step she took were difficult steps.  So great was the urge to spin back around and follow him instead.

But she could not allow herself to surrender to those impulses.  It was choices like that which had gotten her into trouble in the past.

Still she could not prevent the longing in her heart for what Sam represented.

Hadn’t she learned enough lessons?  Hadn’t she paid for enough mistakes?  But
, in spite of her own reasoning, the pestering thought could not be so easily ignored.

What if Sam was the real thing?  What if he were her chance at finding true happiness?

Truth, no matter how much she hated to admit it to herself, she was so terribly happy around him.  He made her feel things she thought she’d never feel again.

But he had the power to hurt her and she swore never would she give that power over to anyone again.

Coming to stop at the edge of a busy street, she spied the prison in the distance.  Before her the road was littered with horses and buggies as well as the odd merchant cart or bicycle.  They temporarily blocked her view, but she noticed the gray wall of the prison being surrounded by a crowd of curious spectators, doing their best to get a glimpse of the gallows within.

It reminded her of Sam’s retelling of his mother’s death.  What had been a very private and painful event for him, had been entertainment for others.

The reminder had Ivy thinking about Sam’s own past and his own path through the dark forest of his childhood.  He had suffered greatly.  Even more than Ivy had.  The one person in the world he trusted above all had failed him.  A person whose love and faith were the cornerstone to a child’s mental stability any lasting relationships formed in later in years.

The corrections patrol wagon
which had delivered Ivy that night to this prison, pulled up in front of the crowd.  The back opened and an officer emerged, followed by Stella.  She looked the same except for the eyes.  Never before had Ivy ever seen so much anguish fill their depths.

Her heart broke for her old friend, and she wished there was something she could do for her.  But more importantly, she realized with a start, she wished there was something she could do for Sam.

He had broken through that dark forest a lonely and needy young boy.  He reached out for the love he so desperately wanted, and got hurt in the process.  If it had been anyone else, they would have given up right then.  But he hadn’t.  A little shaky and a little bruised, he held it out once more, to Ivy.

And she
rejected it.

Her lids came down hard at the painful realization of what she had done.  She had put her own fears before him, not even bothering to acknowledge his.

She turned on her heel and stared blindly down the street from which she just came.  Of course, he wasn’t there.  Her chest heaved as she felt her pulse escalate.  Could she be as brave as Sam?  Could she hold out her heart, even at the risk of having it crushed?  For that was surely what would happen if Sam abandoned her again.

She didn’t know, but she had to try.

With a little cry, she started heading back down the street.  If they tried together they could be that much stronger.

As if to torment her, the train’s whistle echoed over the town’s buildings.  Picking up speed, Ivy hurried down the cemented walkways until she reached the corner Sam had disappeared from.  The station could be seen at the
far end of the street, the train’s black engine like a huge black smudge on the horizon.

Thank goodness, it was still there.

She began to hurry, fearful it would pull away any moment.  The whistle blew once more giving passengers their last warning.

Ivy reached the overcrowded station and looked around
desperately.  Horses and buggies filled the depot.  Women in highly elaborate hats with children in matching attires lined the platform.  While men of various sizes and color accompanied them.  But none were Sam.

Folks
started to embark and Ivy’s fears increased.  If he boarded the train, she’d never see him again.  Nearly running, she pushed past passengers annoyed by her shoving, but Ivy gave them no heed.  She needed to find Sam.

Her eyes darted everywhere, her head felt like it was spinning, but still no sign of him. 
Smoke from the steam engine filled the platform as she ran down the wooded planks.  Her skirts billowing around her legs.  A porter stood near one of the cars, helping an old lady board.

“Excuse me.  Has a man with blond hair already boarded?”

He frowned down at her blankly and said, “Plenty.”

She bit her lip in worry, then said, “A cowboy?”

An understanding look lit up his face, but he shook his head.  “Sorry ma’am.  No cowboys.”

She sighed and thanked him before continuing her search.  It didn’t take long before the crowd had thinned considerably as passengers loaded the train.  Not sure what else to do, she returned to the same porter.

“I’m sorry to bother ye again, but would it be all right if I went on board and had a look?”

“You have a ticket?”

“No.”

“Then I can’t help you
, ma’am.”

“Please.  I won’t be long.”

But he only shook his head as he glanced at his pocket watch.  “Train is on schedule and we want to keep it that way.  If you like, I can leave him a message.”

Feeling distraught
, but realizing there was nothing more she could do, she nodded.  “Thank ye.  Tell him—” She broke off and stared at the man who raised his brow while waiting.  “Never mind.  But I thank ye anyhow.”

He offered her a quick smile the
n boarded the train.  She stood where he left her and watched as he closed the door and locked it into place.  The whistle gave a final blow and then, very slowly, it pulled out of the station.

Black smoke billowed from the smoke stack while the huge pistons cranked the
train’s front driving wheels.  With glistening eyes, Ivy watched the fleet of five cars crawl out of the station.  But somehow, deep inside, she found condolence with the thought she would follow him to Oklahoma.  Use the compensation money from Mr. Hendrickson and purchase a ticket out West.  She was certain many would know of him and his bounty hunter reputation, or at least the marshal.  Suddenly a spark of relief filled her heart.

Yes, Roy would know where he was.  After her acquittal, he had personally offered her his apologies and promised if she ever needed anything to give him a call.  That was one call she intended to cash in on.

Feeling a great deal more determined than she had in a long time, she turned around and came face to face with Sam.

“Sam!”

He simply stood there looking at her oddly, yet hope twinkled in his hazel eyes, which at the moment bore into her.  “What are you doing here?”

“I-I—why aren’t ye on the train?”

He stiffened and said, “I changed my plans.”

“Oh.

Shrugging and trying to appear nonchalant, he said, “I figured if I were ever to regain your trust, it would need time and a hell of a lot of convincing.  Can’t achieve that if I’m three states away.”

Her mouth fell open, hardly believing she heard him correctly.  “But Sam—”

He held up a hand.  “Don’t even bother.  You’ve said it all already.  I ain’t asking you to love me in return, just you give me a chance.  That’s all I’m asking.  One simple chance.”

Love?

She sucked in her breath so overwhelmed by emotion simply from hearing those words pass his lips.  “Ye love me?”

He frowned.  “Of course.  Why the hell do you think I’m still here in this crud-infested town instead—”

This time, she didn’t even bother to withhold the urge.  She went to him and buried her face against his chest.  It must have caught him by surprise, for it took a second before his arms came up and circled her.

“Please don’t tell me that was all it took?  Hell, I would’ve confessed my feelings to you that morning up in the wilderness.”

She tilted back her chin, her vision blurry from the tears welling in them.  “Ye love me truly?”

He actually grinned and reached up and wiped away a tear that had escaped with the pad of his thumb.  “Truly.”

“Oh Sam, I was such a coward.  I
feared loving someone and not having that love returned.”

“Hey.”  His smirk was gone and replaced with a serious scowl.  “I’m not that insensitive.  I realize what you’ve been through.  It’s going to take a hell of a lot of time, but I’m willing to wait it out.  For the long run.  Couldn’t get rid of me
now if you wanted.”

Her cheeks felt warm at his words.  He had not given up on her.  Ever.  He had believed in her innocence, been tempted by suspicion, but never lost his faith in her.

She offered him a wobbly smile.  She owed him the same.  If it took the rest of her life.  A warmth spread throughout her body at the mere thought.  Nothing could make her happier than spending the remainder of her days with Sam by her side.

“For the long run.”

“So the question remains.  We stay here in Chicago or return to Oklahoma.”  One of his hands came up and slipped into her hair, his eyes following the movement.  “As I said, if you have your heart on remaining in Chicago, I can do that.  Though I got to tell you, there ain’t quite nothing like the fresh air found out in the countryside.  As a matter of fact, I’m thinking I’d probably live a lot longer breathing in the tangy air of fresh manure then I would of these polluted streets.  But I leave the decision entirely up to you.”

She grinned
.  “Well, I would hate to see yer unfortunate and early demise due to the ungodly stench of human waste as opposed to the refreshing scent of animal feces.”

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