Sioux Slave (29 page)

About that time, Lenore swept down the stairs in an elegant daffodil yellow gown of rustling silk–a grand entrance that Kimi was sure had been perfectly planned. “For pity's sake! Am I late?” she cooed. “I do apologize.”

There was an exchange of greetings, during which Lenore ignored Kimi. Then she took Rand's arm and led the way into the music room. She walked with a mincing, off-balance step, Kimi thought, and it dawned on her that Lenore was attempting to downplay her large feet by wearing shoes that were much too small. No wonder there seemed to be a perpetual frowning expression on her pretty face.

There was something almost hauntingly familiar about this room, Kimi thought as she entered and looked around. She couldn't remember whether Rand's home had a music room or not. Perhaps she had heard one described or dreamed of one like this. It was done in pastels, fine Oriental rugs with a large fireplace and glimmering lamp light, not the gaudy, dark Victorian look that Rand's mother favored.

The others were busy greeting each other. Shelby Merson arrived, bringing with him the aroma of cheap hair oil. Before she could finish looking about, the judge diverted her attention. “Here, my dear, I want to introduce you to Mrs. James Carstairs, mistress of Carstairs Oaks. Elizabeth, this is the young lady I told you about.”

“Hello, Kimi. So glad you could come.” She held out a frail hand and Kimi took it. The elderly lady peered at her a long moment. “Have we met before?”

“Not if you weren't on the fox hunt this morning.”

Mrs. Carstairs laughed easily. “I heard about it. Pierce said he hadn't seen such spunk and spirit since I took a whip away from a slave trader to save a boy's life.”

Kimi wondered what had happened to the young boy. Then she looked up and saw the strange, tattooed butler look with adoration at the old lady and knew. She hadn't been prepared to like Lenore's grandmother, but she found herself warming to her in spite of everything. There was something haunting about this majestic lady, Kimi thought as she accepted a glass of sherry. If she could choose a grandmother, Elizabeth Carstairs seemed to fit the image she had pictured.

Then Kimi caught sight of the big grand piano near the fireplace. “Oh, may I?”

“Do you play, my dear?”

“I–I don't think so.” Kimi shook her head, fascinated by the instrument. It was as if there was some magic here that pulled at her. Without thinking, she walked over to the piano, put down her glass of sherry, and stroked the keys with her left hand. Rose, Lenore and Vanessa smirked, obviously thinking she was about to make a fool of herself again.

Kimi ran her fingers over the ivory keys, liking the feel of them. She struggled with her thoughts for a long moment, realizing the others were staring in silence. She didn't care; a memory was trying hard to surface. Slowly she picked out a melody, one slow note at a time with her left hand:
Alas, my love, you do me wrong to caste me off discourteously, and I have loved you for so long. . . .

She heard Mrs. Carstairs gasp, and when she looked up, the elderly lady had gone pale and the others were frowning. “Have I done something wrong?”

Mrs. Carstairs took a deep breath. “I just haven't heard anyone but me play that in many, many years.”

“It was his favorite song,” Kimi whispered.

Elizabeth Carstairs stared at her. “How do you know that? Who are you speaking of?”

Kimi blinked uncertainly. “I don't know.” She had to find that shadowy memory that came and went.
She had to
. She began to pick notes out again:
Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight. . . .

Lenore glared at her. “What kind of cruel joke is this?”

Mrs. Erikson took a deep, wheezing breath and her hands fluttered. “I must apologize for my houseguest, Elizabeth, but she doesn't know any better.”

Rand shot his mother a black look and said gently, “Kimi, I don't really think you should play Mrs. Carstairs' piano without her permission.”

“I'm sorry, I meant no harm,” she turned toward the old lady, realizing the others in the room were glaring at her in grim disapproval.

Mrs. Carstairs cleared her throat, touched her lips with a handkerchief. “My little granddaughter was left-handed, too. She used to sit on my lap and pick that out. It was her father's favorite song.” She gestured toward the painting on the opposite wall.

For the first time, Kimi saw the painting. Almost in a trance, she moved across the room to stare up at it.

 

 

Rand watched her. What on earth did Kimi think she was doing? The judge and Mrs. Carstairs stared at her, the others were glaring in frank disapproval of her rudeness. “Kimi,” he said, and went to her side, “I think perhaps . . .”

Kimi seemed entranced by the painting as if she had not heard a word he said. She clasped the gold charm in her hand and turned very pale as her gaze swept over the portrait.

Rand paused, looking up at the painting. He had grown so used to it hanging there, he hadn't really looked at it in years. He just barely remembered that it was a portrait of Lenore's family who had left many years ago. Rand had been a small boy then. He took a good long look at the people in the portrait, the gold fob on the man's watch, the beauty with the white flowers tucked in the low bodice of her dress. Kimi reached up to put her hand on the beauty's face. “She would never let us call her ‘mama,' ” she whispered. And then she said her own name. “Kimimila.”

Rand glanced at the white blossoms in the beauty's low-cut bodice and an impossible idea came to him. “Mrs. Carstairs, what—what was your daughter-in-law's name?”

The old lady was already on her feet, her lovely face pale as the snowy blossoms. She looked from Kimi to the painting. “Camelia.”

Kimi nodded, still lost in the painting. “Camelia, and Sister and Daddy and little Laurel.”

Rand stared at her. Camelia. Kimimila. Could it possibly be–?

The judge cleared his throat. “This isn't funny, young lady. I'll not have you upsetting Elizabeth–” He paused, took a really good look at Kimi. “Great Caesar's ghost . . .”

The elderly lady looked visibly angry. “What is it, Pierce?” She crossed the room to Kimi's side. “Now, see here young lady, I don't know what kind of prank you're pulling, but it's gone far enough–”

At that point, she seemed to see the spirit object hanging on a chain around Kimi's neck. With a cry, the old lady gasped and fainted dead away.

 

 

The next several minutes were a blur of confusion to Kimi, with maids running for smelling salts, Mrs. Erikson and Vanessa's shocked faces, and Lenore screaming that this primitive savage couldn't possibly be her missing baby sister. Rand didn't say anything. He only stared at her with wide eyes as if he'd never really looked at her before.

Kimi felt bewildered as the memories came flooding back and she answered questions. She didn't have very many answers.

Lenore's pretty face screwed into a mask of jealousy and anger. “I think she's a fake! She doesn't remember very much.”

The judge looked Kimi over. “A two-year-old wouldn't remember very much, I'm afraid, but she looks like Camelia, except for the eyes. No wonder we all keep thinking we've met her before. I'd say she's a Carstairs: green eyes like Jim's, left-handed, and she's got the gold acorn from his watch fob.”

Elizabeth Carstairs lay on the sofa while the judge rubbed her frail hand. Obviously the shock had been almost too much for her. When she recovered somewhat, she plied Kimi with questions. “What–what do you remember besides what you've told us? Do you remember the night you all left here? The trip?” She looked almost afraid that Kimi might.

Lenore stuck her face close to Kimi's. “Yes, tell us about that night. Do you remember the thunder?”

“Thunder?” Kimi asked, bewildered.

“Never mind, Lenore,” the judge said hurriedly.

Kimi shook her head. “I–I don't remember much except a man carrying me in his arms. He hummed my spirit song.”

Mrs. Carstairs looked questioningly at Rand. “Greensleeves,” he explained. “Mrs. Carstairs, how old would your missing granddaughter be?”

Before she could answer, Kimi answered that herself. “Eighteen winter counts.”

The white-haired lady blinked. “That's right.”

Rand slapped his hand against his thigh. “I've been three kinds of a fool.”

Kimi stared at the painting, still dredging up forgotten memories. “Lost. Thirsty, very thirsty.”

Rand stepped in at that point and volunteered what little he knew of old Wagnuka's husband finding the child in a dying man's arms out in the wilderness, the bodies scattered along the trail as if a wagon train had gotten lost and the people tried to walk out.

Elizabeth sighed deeply. Tragedy was etched in the wrinkles of her lovely old face. “I suppose I always knew it. Somehow I just kept hoping–”

“But what about the rest of them?” Lenore demanded, pushing her face close to Kimi's. “What about Camelia?”

She tried to remember, then shook her head helplessly. “I don't recall anything else.”

Vanessa and Mrs. Erikson still looked skeptical. The older woman fanned herself and wheezed. “Surely, Elizabeth, you aren't going to take the word of this waif that she's your missing granddaughter?”

Mrs. Carstairs glared at her. “Rose, you knew my daughter-in-law and my son. Can you not look Kimi in the face and see she looks like both of them?”

“Now, Mrs. Carstairs,” Vanessa soothed, “maybe you're seeing a resemblance that's not really there; I mean, just because this ragtag girl has green eyes. Why, look at Lenore; you
know
she's your granddaughter and while she looks more like her mother than this Kimi does, she doesn't have green eyes and isn't left-handed, so that doesn't mean anything.”

Kimi saw Elizabeth Carstairs glance toward Judge Hamilton. A look passed between them that she couldn't quite understand. The old man stroked his gray mustache. “If you want to know what I think, Elizabeth, I would stake my life that this is Laurel.”

“What I never understood, Elizabeth,” Mrs. Erikson mused, “was why Jim and Camelia left so suddenly in the first place?”

The old lady hesitated and the judge stepped in. “Like she's told everyone many times, they had made plans months before to go West. Jim had a hankering to take the Oregon Trail. They were going to send for Lenore later and then come back and visit when they finally got settled.”

“Oh, don't lie, Pierce. Yes, there was a family fuss,” Elizabeth admitted grudgingly, looking at Rand's mother. “If you remember my daughter-in-law, we never got on well.”

The other lady nodded in sudden understanding. “Well, of course everyone knew she wasn't from as fine a family as the Carstairs. But she was such a great beauty, that none of us were surprised when Jim met and married her so quickly over in Memphis.”

“Yes, Camelia was a great beauty,” Elizabeth agreed. “She could turn any man's head.” There was an infinite sadness in her gray eyes. “At least I finally know what happened and can quit hoping. Pierce, call my butler in.”

The judge went to the bell pull, rang it. After several minutes, the big tattooed man came into the room. “Yes, Miz Elizabeth?”

She motioned toward Kimi, still standing by the painting. “Take a good look at that girl.”

There was a deathly silence and a question on the big black's face as he turned and took a long look at Kimi. As he stared, his expression grew more and more troubled. He looked from her to the painting, back again. Very slowly, he crossed the room, still staring at her. “Miz Laurel, is it you?”

Part of the memory fell into place. His name; she knew his name. “Yes, Nero, it's really me.” She began to cry.

Elizabeth sat up on the sofa. “That does it,” she said and held out her arms to Kimi. “Welcome home, dear, we have a lot to make up for.”

“Nana,” Kimi wept and went into her arms.

“Yes, that's what you called me,” Elizabeth said softly, “Oh, Laurel, if you only knew–” She began to weep.

 

 

Rand blinked back tears at the touching scene. His father looked as if he couldn't quite deal with this show of raw emotion and the judge pulled out a handkerchief to blow his nose loudly. Shelby appeared to be quite disturbed. He kept looking from Kimi to Lenore, shaking his head and playing absently with his diamond stickpin. Only the other three women looked betrayed and angry.

Rose Erikson seemed dismayed and annoyed as she fanned hard. “If I were you, Elizabeth, I wouldn't take her at face value. She may be a fake, trading on your loss.”

“You aren't me, Rose, and I don't remember asking your opinion.” The elderly lady had recovered her spunk.

It had been a long time since he had seen his mother at a loss for words. He rather enjoyed watching her mouth open and close like a surprised fish thrown up on a river bank. Then she seemed to remember Elizabeth Carstairs was the richest woman in the county and not one to offend. “Elizabeth,” she said gently, “perhaps we should cancel the big harvest ball? I mean, with this news of your son and his wife's deaths, it might not be socially correct–”

“No, don't cancel it,” Elizabeth said firmly. “With all the invitations already out for Saturday night, it would be difficult to cancel at this late date anyway.” She sighed and looked at her veined hands. “After all, it must have happened almost sixteen years ago. I reckon I've always known it all along deep in my heart. I just wouldn't face it.” She smiled at Kimi. “At least some good has come of this tragedy.”