The Ghost (44 page)

It would be wrong of me to abandon my friends now, my love. He was, above all, a man of honor. And although she argued with him about it constantly, she knew he could not be stopped now. But she cried piteously all night, the night before he left her. All he could do was hold her close to him as she sobbed, and kiss her. And just before the dawn, he made love to her, and Sarah found herself praying that she would become pregnant. She had the most terrible premonitions about him leaving her this time, but Fran+oois kissed her gently and reminded her that she had those same feelings whenever he went to Deerfield. You want me tied to your apron strings, like your children, he said, grinning. It was true, in part, but she also knew that if anything happened to Francois she would not be able to bear it. And even as she saw him astride his horse in the dawn, she knew who he was, and whom she loved. He looked like the same warrior who had terrorized her four and a half years before when she met him in the forest. He was a proud eagle high in the skies, and even she knew she could not force him to earth quite so swiftly.

Keep safe, she whispered as he kissed her for the last time, come back to me soon ' I shall miss you.

I love you, brave little squaw, he smiled down at her from his paint mare that had been a gift from the Iroquois long ago in another life. I will be home before the next baby, he laughed, and then rode off into the valley at a gallop as she watched him. She stood for a long time, and could still hear the hooves of his horse on her heart, as she went back inside to her children.

She lay in bed for hours that day, thinking of him, and wishing she could have stopped him. But no matter what she told herself, she knew he would have gone anyway. He had to.

And in August she heard at the garrison that they had reached Fort Recovery safely, and built two new forts, Fort Defiance and Fort Adams, and their spies had told them that Little Turtle was ready to negotiate peace, but neither Tecumseh nor Blue Jacket were willing to hear it. They were determined to defeat the Army. But the fact that at least one of the great warriors was willing to yield seemed a good sign, and the men at the garrison felt sure that with four thousand men at his command, Wayne would defeat both Tecumseh and Blue Jacket quickly. But through the entire month, Sarah could not feel easy. August droned around her head like a swarm of bees, stinging her constantly with her own terrors. And at the end of the month, she felt still more worried. There had been no news. And then finally, the entire garrison was alive with what they considered a rout. General Wayne had made a brilliant attack on Blue Jacket on the twentieth of August at Fallen Timbers. Forty Indians had been killed or severely wounded, and very few of the Army. They had used great strategy and defeated the Indians mercilessly, and within three days, Blue Jacket retreated. And General Wayne was moving victoriously toward home through Ohio. There was cause for celebration, and yet Sarah felt almost ill as she listened. She knew she would not find peace again until Francois returned to her safely.

She waited for him to return or for news of him from the few men returning to the area. Many men had stayed in the West to continue the battle. Blue Jacket had been beaten, but had not yet conceded total defeat, nor had Tecumseh. Perhaps Frau+oois had also chosen to stay in the West, to follow the. battle through to its ultimate conclusion. But that seemed unlikely. That could be years or at the very least months, and she didn't think Francois would stay to do that.

But by mid-September when she heard no word she was frantic, and she appealed to Colonel Hinkley, the commandant of the Deerfield garrison, to get what news he could from the men returning from Fallen Timbers. For nearly two months now she had heard nothing. And he promised to see what he could do to alleviate her anguish.

She rode home that afternoon, with only one of her hired boys to accompany her, and when she got there, she found the children laughing and playing, and as she sat looking at them in their games, she thought she saw a man watching them from the treeline. He was wearing Indian dress, but she could see that he was not an Indian. He was a white man, but before she could question him, or send someone else to, he had vanished. And she stood for a long time that night, watching the sunset. She had an uneasy feeling.

And two days later, she saw the man again. But this time, he seemed to be watching her and then disappeared even more quickly. And the week after her visit to the garrison, the commandant came out to see her himself. He had just had the news from a scout returned from Ohio. And Sarah knew even before he said it. Fran+oois had been killed at Fallen Timbers.

Only thirty-three men died, and he had been among them. And yet she had known it. She had always known that Blue Jacket would kill him. She had felt it. And then she knew who the man in the woods had been. The man she had seen watching her, and who had seemed to vanish in thin air ' had been Francois, come to bid her farewell. She had seen him.

She sat very still when Colonel Hinkley told her the news that shattered her world, and he left her very quickly. And she stood looking out over the valley he had loved, the place where they'd met, and felt in her heart that he would never leave her. And at dawn the next day, she rode quietly to the waterfall they had loved, and where he had first kissed her. There were so many memories ' so many things still to say to him ' and she already knew there would be, no more babies ' Marie-Ange had been the last one.

Frangois had been a great warrior, a great man, the only man she had ever loved ' White Bear ' Fran+oois de Pellerin ' she knew she had to go to the Iroquois to tell them. And as she stood at the waterfall, she smiled through her tears, remembering all he had been, all she had loved ' and knew she would never lose him.

And as Charlie read the page, huge tears rolled down his cheeks. How could it have happened? They had only had four years together. How was that possible? How could one woman give so much, and get so little back, only four years with the man she loved, and yet Sarah didn't feel that. She felt grateful for every day, every moment, and for their three children.

The entries were fewer and shorter over the next years, and yet he could see that she had a good life. She seemed peaceful. She had lived to be eighty, in the house he'd built for her. And she had never loved an-other man, or forgotten Fran+oois. He had lived on through his children as she did. She never saw the man in the clearing again. It had been Fran+oois come to say good-bye to her, and she knew it.

And the last entry in the last journal was in a different hand. It was written by her daughter. It said that her mother had had a good life, and lived to a great age, and although she had never known her father, she had known what a fine man he was. She said that their love, and their courage, and the bond they shared was an example to all who knew them. She had written it on the day Sarah died, when she found the journals in the trunk in her bedroom. And she had signed her entry on the last page, Fran+ooise de Pellerin Carver. And she had written after it, God Bless Them. The date was 1845. And the handwriting was almost the same as her mother's. There were no further entries after that. No way of knowing what had happened to her children.

Good-bye, Charlie whispered, as tears continued to roll down his cheeks. For a moment, he couldn't imagine what he would do without them. What a gift Sarah had been in his life, what an extraordinary woman ' and Fran+oois, how much he had given her in such a short time. It was hard to imagine. Charlie was deeply moved by everything he had read, and knew about them. And as he went to his room that night, thinking of her, he heard the sound of a silk skirt moving swiftly across the floor and he glanced up, almost without thinking. He saw a shape moving swiftly across the floor in a blue gown, and then it was gone, and he was no longer sure if it was real or his imagination. Or was it like the man she had seen at the edge of the clearing. Had she come to say good-bye to him? Could she even know that he had found her journals? It seemed impossible to believe that. And seeing her again was like the final gift from her, as he stood feeling bereft in the silence.

Charlie wanted to tell someone that she had died, to call Francesca and talk to her about Sarah and Francois. But it wouldn't be fair. And it would spoil the rest of the journals for her. He couldn't do it, and besides, it was three o'clock in the morning. Instead, he lay down on his bed, still seeing her as he had, still thinking of everything he'd read, and mourning Francois's death at Fallen Timbers, and hers so many years later. There was no sound in the house and in a little while, he was sleeping deeply.

Chapter 23

CHARLIE AWOKE WITH the sun streaming into his room the next day, and the feeling of a weight on his chest as though something terrible had happened. He had woken that way for months after Carole left, and he wondered if it was her again, but he knew it wasn't. It was something else, but he couldn't remember ' and then he knew what it was. It was Sarah. Fran+oois had died. And so had she, nearly fifty years later. It was such a long time to live without him.

And the worst thing for Charlie was that there was nothing to read now. She had left him. And she had taught him yet another lesson, that life was so short and the moments so precious. What if she had never opened the doors of her heart to Fran+oois? They only had four brief years, and yet it was the best part of her life, and she had borne him three children.

It had made everything that had happened to her before seem so unimportant. And as he stood in the shower that morning, thinking about her again, his mind wandered back to Francesca. She had changed since her trip to Paris. He had seen it in her eyes when he picked her up at the airport, and it was even more significant that she had let him. And all of a sudden, as he dressed, he could hardly wait to see her. He realized that an entire new life could be waiting for both of them. The day was going to seem endless until seven, when he was supposed to pick her up. And as he thought of it he heard the knocker on the front door downstairs. He wondered who it was, probably Gladys Palmer. No one else in town knew him, other than Francesca, and he wasn't seeing her until that night for dinner. He couldn't imagine now why he hadn't asked to spend the day with her. It seemed so stupid. But as he hurried down the stairs, and looked out the window, he saw her. She was standing there, waiting for him, and she looked worried. It was Francesca.

I'm sorry, she said nervously, she was frowning, but she still looked beautiful as he asked her in, and she stood in the front hall. He was smiling. I just thought ' I dropped Monique off at her friend's, I wasn't far from here and ' I wondered ' There were tears in her eyes, she was so nervous, and she thought she shouldn't have come, but she had done it. I finished the journal last night. She's in Boston, and she's about to come to Deerfield.

You're only just beginning, he said thoughtfully, looking down at her. Maybe we all are. I finished the last of them last night ' I was feeling as though someone died, and someone had, but a long, long time ago. But he still mourned her. I'm glad you came by. I couldn't imagine who was knocking at my door, it had to be either the police or the landlady ' I'm awfully glad it was you. He looked gently down at her, and suddenly had an idea. Maybe it would bring them luck, or have special meaning to them later. Do you want to take a drive with me?

Sure, she said, looking relieved. It had taken so much courage for her to come to visit him, she was still a little bit shaken. Where are we going? she asked nervously.

You'll see, he said mysteriously. He grabbed a coat, and went back outside with her, and drove her the short distance that Sarah had walked so often, even when she was pregnant. And then Francesca recognized it. She had been there with Monique once. They'd loved it. They'd brought a picnic. But only Charlie knew it was the waterfall that Sarah had written about so often in her journals. It's beautiful, isn't it? he said as he stood next to her, the falls were iced over, but they still looked so enormous and so majestic. It was a special place for them. He remembered why, though Francesca didn't know yet. And without another word he pulled Francesca slowly close to him and kissed her. They had said enough to each other since they met, about the past and the present and the future, what they wouldn't do, and couldn't stand, the people who had betrayed them, and the scars they would keep forever. Maybe it was time to stop talking, and follow Sarah and Fran+oois's example.

She could feel his heart beating hard against her chest, and she smiled at him when he finally pulled away from her, and she put a finger on his lips ever so gently.

I'm glad you did that. She spoke in a whisper.

So am I, he said breathlessly. I didn't think I could stay away from you for much longer ' I'm glad you didn't' . I've been so stupid, Francesca said as they sat down on a rock that had a familiar curve to it, and Charlie couldn't help wondering if it was the same place where Francois had kissed Sarah. He hoped so. When I read about her, I realize that all that stuff that happened to me was so unimportant. Francesca looked so much more free now.

It's not unimportant, he corrected her, and then kissed her again. It's just behind you ' that's different. You've resolved it. And she knew that Sarah had helped her too.

She nodded, and then they walked for a while, and he put his arm around her. I'm so glad you came over this morning, he said, and meant it.

So am I, she smiled at him, she looked years younger than when he had met her. He was forty-two and she was thirty-one and they had a whole life ahead of them. They were roughly the same ages Fran+oois and Sarah had been at the end of the life they shared, and theirs was just beginning. It was a remarkable feeling, particularly after they'd both been so convinced that their lives were over. And now there was so much to think about, so much to dream, and hope for.

They drove back to his house eventually, and he asked if he could still cook her dinner that night and she laughed at the seriousness of the question. I was afraid you'd be tired of me by then, he explained, since you came over so early.