The Vow (46 page)
Samuel rose and went to her. “Do what you think is best.”
She clenched her fists in frustration. “It’s not that simple. Reiver has threatened that I’ll live to regret it if I don’t do as he wishes.”
He drew her into his arms and held her. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
Hannah pulled away. “I’m not worried for myself. You live here on Reiver’s bounty. What if he decides to cast you out again? I can’t let him do that.”
He looked chagrined. “I’ll have you know I’m not quite the charity case everyone thinks me to be just because I’ve got this.” He held up his wooden hand. “I’ll have you know that several congressmen were quite impressed with me when I went to Washington.”
Hannah smiled. “How could they not be?” Her smile faded. “But there’s Lizzie. What if Reiver remarries and takes her away from me? She may be Cecelia’s daughter, but I love her as if she were my own, and it would break my heart to give her up.” She shook her head in disgust. “I thought Reiver loved his daughter better than his mill, but I was wrong. Shaw Silks will always be first in his heart.”
Samuel stood there in silence. “So what will you do?”
“I’ll ask Reiver to give me until Christmas to decide. Hopefully by that time I’ll know what to do.”
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The second Sunday in November dawned bitter cold and so still, not a bare branch shivered. After church services Benjamin reported that he had heard the Coldwater River was frozen solid and perfect for an ice-skating party.
With predictions of a long war and the North now blockading the South’s ports, both Hannah and Reiver agreed that a skating party would lift the family’s spirits. So Hannah bundled up Lizzie and invited Samuel and James to come along.
When they arrived at the river, they discovered that the cove was already crowded with skaters of all ages and sizes gliding around and around.
Hannah sat on an overturned log and put on her skates, casting a worried look at the river running past the cove. “Benjamin,” she said, “the river isn’t frozen. That’s open water out there.”
He gave her a supercilious look. “The river may not be frozen, Mother, but the cove is. Look at everyone skating. It’s perfectly safe.”
She was not reassured. “Stay away from the edge of the ice. It isn’t safe.”
“Yes, Mother,” he replied in a bored, placating tone before skating off.
Hannah watched him in growing annoyance. Ever since returning from the Orient, Benjamin had been acting like a spoiled brat, disrespectful to his mother and condescending to everyone else. He was turning into a most unpleasant young man.
“Aunt Hannah,” Lizzie said, “will you skate with me?”
“Just let me get your skates on, and we can take a turn around the ice.”
Once Lizzie’s skates were laced tight, Hannah took her hand, and they started off slowly, going around and around. Hannah smiled at people she knew, always keeping her eyes on her sons, who seemed intent on proving who could skate the fastest.
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After several turns around the cove, Lizzie announced that she was tired, so Hannah returned to the log at the edge of the ice to catch her breath and watch the skaters.
“Look!” Lizzie said, pointing to a thick log half-submerged in the water and frozen in the ice. “Davey’s going to jump.”
Hannah held her breath as her younger son skated in long, swinging strides toward the fallen log, gaining momentum with every second. Then he leaned forward, drew up his legs and jumped, sailing over it with inches to spare.
Miraculously he landed without mishap and skated on to loud applause from the onlookers.
Reiver skated over to Hannah. “Enjoying the contest?”
She shook her head. “One of them is bound to fall and crack his head open.”
“Spoken like a true mother hen.” He looked down at her. “Perhaps we’d better take a turn around the ice before people start to talk.”
“But people are talking now,” Lizzie piped up, frankly puzzled.
“Yes, honey, they certainly are.” Hannah looked up at Reiver, surprised that he would even ask her to skate with him. He had not been pleased with having to wait until Christmas to learn of her decision, and relations between them had been as cold as this day in November.
“Someone has to watch Lizzie,” she said.
Reiver hailed Benjamin skating past. “Son, watch your cousin while your mother and I go skating.”
“Father, I am not a nursemaid.”
Reiver’s wide jaw clenched. “You are while your mother and I are skating.
Now do as you’re told.”
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Benjamin muttered something under his breath, then extended his mittened hand to Lizzie, and off they went. Hannah joined hands with Reiver, and they skated off in tandem.
“At least pretend that you’re enjoying this,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’m not, so why should I?” she replied.
As they rounded the cove and came back Hannah noticed that Benjamin and Lizzie were too far away, out near the edge of the open water.
“Reiver,” she said in alarm, “Ben has taken Lizzie too near the river. It’s dangerous. Let’s call them back.”
He dismissed her fears with an irritated, “Ben won’t let anything happen to Lizzie. She’s safe with him.”
“I’m worried. I want to call them back.”
Reiver tightened his grip on her hands so she couldn’t pull away. “You’ve always wanted to keep those children wrapped in cotton batting. Now stop worrying.”
As they started to take another turn around the ice, Hannah glanced back around her shoulder to check on Benjamin and Lizzie. Without warning, the ice gave way with a sickening crack.
Ben and Lizzie dropped into the water and disappeared.
Hannah screamed and pulled out of Reiver’s grasp. “Dear God, they’ve fallen in!”
“Stay back!” Reiver cried, and before Hannah could blink, he was skating toward the broken ice and open water.
A collective gasp of shock rippled through the skaters, and everyone stopped. Several men went flying past Hannah, who stood there as if her skates were frozen to the ice. Then a grim-faced Samuel was beside her, gripping her hand.
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When Hannah saw Reiver’s intention, she screamed his name and lunged forward, but Samuel restrained her. Together they watched in horror as Reiver dived into the black, freezing water to save his children.
Hannah stood there, her hand pressed to her mouth to keep from screaming.
She saw three dark heads bobbing like balls in the water, and two men stretched out on the ice to distribute their weight evenly and keep from crashing through themselves, their arms extended. One of them was James.
Please God, let them be safe
, Hannah prayed.
I’ll do anything you ask. Anything.
One of the men caught someone and pulled him onto the ice, which was cracking ominously under the additional weight.
“Benjamin!” Hannah cried. “Dear God, he’s safe!”
One of the skaters rushed out with a lap rug and wrapped it around the drenched, shivering Benjamin, leading him back to safety. Though she wanted to go to her son, Hannah couldn’t tear her eyes away from the life-and-death drama unfolding on the edge of the ice. Lizzie and Reiver were still in the water, and it looked as though Reiver was keeping her afloat.
Suddenly both men grabbed another bobbing figure and hauled it out of an icy grave. Another rescuer wrapped little Lizzie in a blanket and carried her over to Hannah.
“Lizzie, dear God, oh, my baby…” The child was soaked and shuddering, her lips tinged with blue and teeth chattering, but her dazed eyes were half-open and she was alive. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Hannah kissed her on the forehead. “We’ve got to get her warm before she freezes to death.”
Then Hannah looked for Reiver, but he was nowhere to be found.
She searched the place where the men had rescued Benjamin and Lizzie, waiting for the third survivor. All she saw was James and the other man making their way slowly back over the ice.
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One look at Samuel’s stricken face and she knew.
“No!” she screamed.
Shivering James, his clothes wet and half-frozen, and cheeks stained with tears, stood before her. “I’m sorry, Hannah,” he said through chattering teeth.
His voice broke. “I almost had him, but he was in the water too long and he just gave out. He couldn’t reach me before—before the current took him.” He broke down sobbing.
Later, when they were all back safe and warm at the main house, Hannah asked James if Reiver had uttered any last words before the current took him.
Still dazed, he replied, “Just one word. Cecelia.”
Hannah just smiled through her tears, for Reiver had finally set her free.
Rummy Shaw’s eldest son departed this Earth in a style more befitting a king than the son of a no-account drunkard. Those same citizens of Coldwater who had jeered at the father came to pay their respects to his son, along with dignitaries from Hartford and New York.
If anyone heard Reiver Shaw’s widow’s amused bubble of ironic laughter behind her thick mourning veil, they attributed it to hysteria and bowed their heads in prayer.
“Benjamin, it wasn’t your fault.”
A week after Reiver’s lavish funeral, a black-clad Hannah stood in the parlor trying to console her son. Benjamin sat slumped on the settee, as gray-faced and red-eyed as Hannah’s doctor father whenever he lost a patient.
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“It is my fault,” Ben moaned, holding his head in his hands. “I shouldn’t have skated out so far with Lizzie. She could have drowned like Abigail, and Father is dead!”
Standing by the warm fireplace, Hannah shivered. How could she have forgotten that Abigail had died because her brothers were watching a rabbit hole instead of her? Now Ben blamed his father’s death on his carelessness.
Hannah walked over to the settee and stared down at him sternly. “Now, you listen to me, Benjamin Shaw. You were only a little boy when Abigail died, and you were not responsible. And as for last Sunday, several of the men at the pond said that the spot you were skating on should have held. Anyone could have fallen in.”
Fresh tears streamed down his face. “Why did Father have to try to save us?
Why didn’t he let somebody younger and stronger—”
“Son, listen to me.” Hannah knelt down and grasped his hands. “Your father tried to save you and your cousin—”
“You don’t have to lie anymore, Mother.” Ben pulled his hands away and leaned back. “I know Lizzie’s my half-sister. While Father and I were in Japan, he told me that she is his daughter.”
What else did he tell you?
Hannah wondered as she rose.
That Samuel and I were
lovers? That I took Shaw Silks in exchange for raising his daughter?
“We can discuss that later,” she said. “What I’ve got to make you understand is that in spite of his faults, your father loved his family very much. He could no more stand by helplessly than he could stop loving you.
“Son, I don’t know why the Good Lord chose to take your father from us. As painful as it is, we have to accept it because nothing is going to bring him back to us.”
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Ben flung himself off the settee. “I’ll never accept it! Never!” Before Hannah could stop him, he stormed out of the parlor and out the front door, letting in a blast of frigid air before slamming the door behind him.
Alone in the silence, Hannah rubbed her aching forehead.
“Mama?”
She turned to see Davey standing in the parlor entrance, looking somber and haggard in his mourning clothes. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Can I get you anything? A glass of sherry or a cup of tea?”
She smiled wanly and extended her hand to her younger son, who had surprised her with his strength and compassion during this sad time. “I’m fine, really, and I’ve had enough tea to last me a lifetime.” She looked at the front door. “I’m afraid Ben has been taking your father’s death especially hard.”
Davey shrugged. “I’m not surprised. He and Papa were always close.”
“Your father loved you, David,” Hannah said. “You mustn’t think that he didn’t.”
“I just wish he had told me.”
Hannah hugged her son, also wishing he were a little boy again. She indicated that he should join her on the settee. “Your father was a complex, difficult man. There were times when I loved him, and times I hated him.”
Davey raised his brows. “You hated Father?”
“Sometimes. Do you think me terrible for saying it?”
“No. There were times when I hated him, too.” He grinned. “And Ben.”
Then he became serious. “Perhaps I should go after him and see if I can help.”
“No, I think he needs to be alone.”
But Hannah needed company.
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Samuel’s papers cluttered the homestead’s dining room table, but he was not there working on them.
“Samuel?” Hannah called from the foot of the stairs.
“I’m up here,” a faint voice called back, “in the studio.”
Hannah found him standing before the window that looked toward the main house, the weak winter light playing up the bleakness in his pale eyes.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” he said, not looking at her.
“Neither can I.” Hannah rubbed her arms. “Isn’t it ironic that Reiver died the same way as Abigail?”
He stared straight ahead. “The daughter he could never love.”
“I like to think that he redeemed himself by saving Lizzie.”
“Perhaps that’s why he went in after her.”
“He had to. She was his daughter.”
Samuel turned. “And how are you, Hannah? With the funeral, and people surrounding you every waking minute, I haven’t had a chance to be alone with you.”