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Authors: Deborah Smith

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“I know her heart and soul already,” Carter answered with quiet confidence. “Before I met her I was a boy playing at being a man. Now I’m ready to
be
a man. This isn’t silliness. This is Ella. Ella Arinelli. Who believed in me from the minute we met, just like I believe in her.”

Olivia wrote for a while then handed the pad to Bea, who drew herself up proudly and read in a ringing voice, “ ‘Take joy where you find it and accept passion where it must be celebrated. I give my blessing on Ella and Carter. We need a wedding here. Tonight. Yes.’ ”

I gazed at Olivia bitterly. She returned the look with quiet challenge, as if saying I had no choice, and she hoped I accepted her edict. “My sister isn’t a Cameron possession,” I said in a low, even voice. “You can’t agree to this just because you think a wedding would be good for family morale. I’ll fight you on it.”

Olivia stared at me calmly. One gray brow arched slightly. She nodded toward Carter and my sister, who were mesmerized by each other even as we discussed them.
You’ve already lost
, Olivia’s expression seemed to say.

“ ‘Do we all know what this date is?’ ” Bea continued to read Olivia’s written statement. “ ‘What special event today’s date marks?’ ”

“Yes,” Ella said softly, looking at me. “Vee and I just couldn’t bear to talk about it. But it’s why Carter and I decided we have to be married
right now.”

Silence. My throat closed. I wanted to scream, drag Ella out of there, cry for corrupted joys and symbolic pride, and kill Carter Macintosh with my bare hands. “What’s everybody talking about, Mama?” I heard Jasper whisper.

Kelly added, “What’s today?”

“It’s an anniversary,” she answered gently. “We’ve been waiting for our guests to mention it first.”

I saw pinpoints of light and my knees went weak. I felt Gib’s strong left hand in the small of my back, steadying me. That made me arch away from him, and the renewed defense made him nod approvingly.

Because thirty years ago on this date, Mom and Pop had gotten married at the chapel.

“Is the sonuvabitch in that room?” I asked quietly. Gib stood in the hall near a closed bedroom door. The perfect bodyguard. He looked troubled, but firm.

“The sonuvabitch is getting dressed for his wedding,” he murmured. “And no, I won’t let you go in there and kill him.”

“He can’t marry my sister. He doesn’t have what it takes to care for her—he has no clue what she needs, how fragile she is. You know what I mean.”

Gib took me by one arm and led me a discreet distance away from the door. Then he said, “You think I approve of
what’s happening? This kind of half-cocked idea is the last thing we need right now. Are you saying she hasn’t told him about Detroit?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt she has. She wants to pretend Carter’s special. She wants to believe nothing bad will ever happen to her now that she’s here.”

“For the record, my cousin is probably the most stand-up, decent-hearted man she’s ever met. And he sure as hell ought to be warned about
her.”

“Warned?”

“Pull in your claws and don’t look at me that way. You want to be honest about this, well, so do I. Ella’s a sweet soul, but she’s got a history of mental problems.”

“Mental problems? She’s sensitive and highstrung. She had a nervous breakdown following a traumatic romance and a miscarriage. That’s not a
mental
problem.”

“Whatever you want to call it, she’s not likely to turn into a rock of stability overnight. I think a man ought to know exactly what he’s getting in a wife. I’d say the same thing if we were talking about alcoholism or a heart defect or any kind of disability.”

“How
could
you?” I grabbed his maimed hand in both of mine. “You of all people should have compassion for someone who’s not perfect—whether it’s physical or mental.”

His scarred fingers closed over mine like thick clasps. “I can’t
hide
my hand no matter how much I try I don’t make excuses for it. And I wouldn’t deceive a woman into loving me or marrying me with the idea that somehow she’s going to work a miracle and make my hand normal again.
Truth
is the issue.”

“Then you tell Carter that my sister spent a month in the psychiatric ward of a Detroit hospital. And you tell Carter she’s been pregnant, and she lost the baby.
You tell him
. And make sure he knows she also had a nervous breakdown ten years ago, after our father died. Go ahead.” I stepped back,
trembling, furious, heartsick, and jerked my head toward the closed door. “Tell your cousin the brutal facts. He’ll appreciate you for protecting his interests that way. Go ahead.”

Gib’s stony, frustrated expression said I’d made my point. “Goddamn,” he said, shutting his eyes briefly. He looked at the closed door. “You win. Ella has to be the one to tell him.”

Min and Isabel came around a corner in the shadowy hall and looked from us to the closed door anxiously. I quickly released Gib’s hand and stepped back. “I brought this for Ella,” Min said. She held out a slender jewelry box and opened the lid. A magnificent strand of pearls was coiled neatly inside.

“Something borrowed
, for good luck. I thought she’d like to wear these. They’re mine. My husband gave them to me on our twentieth anniversary.” She touched the pearls gently.

“And
something blue,”
Isabel added, holding out a lovely pale blue handkerchief with initials embroidered in one corner. “This belonged to Great-grandmother Vameer. She was a Yankee schoolteacher from Maine. Great-grandfather hired her to teach the local children. He sponsored the community school. When he met her at the train station in Knoxville he was drunk. She hit him with her valise. If you look at her handkerchief—see, right there?—that’s a tiny stain from his blood. The valise’s metal clasp cut his lip.”

In the middle of chaos I was being confronted with more Cameron heirlooms and another peculiar Cameron love story. My mind was on fire. “You’ve been kind to my sister and kind to me,” I said to Min and Isabel, “but I’m sorry, there’s nothing joyful about this marriage. It won’t last.”

Min smiled sympathetically. “That’s what my family said when Simon and I eloped. We were so young.”

“It’s not the same situation.”

“Oh, yes, it is. Olivia took me in immediately, no questions asked, the same as she’s taking in you and Ella. For better or worse. When you marry a Cameron you marry the whole family. I’m serious.”

“Venus,” Isabel interjected gently, laying a hand on my
arm, “I knew my husband for two years before I married him, but that didn’t help. We can’t promise you that your sister will be happy with Carter, but we can promise you she’ll be accepted here. And so will you. This kind of impulsive marriage isn’t all that bizarre. Not by our standards.”

“I don’t want to insult any of you, but I have no reason to think your cousin has what it takes to make a
normal
marriage work, much less this … this
excuse
for a wedding ceremony.”

The bedroom door flew open. Carter stood there, solemn yet preening in dark trousers with a buckskin fringed jacket. He adjusted a turquoise bolero at his collar then realized I was staring murderously at him. “I was about to come see you,” he said. “To beg you to give your blessing on us. For Ella’s sake. You’re the be-all and end-all to her, sister-wise.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Call off this wedding and I’ll give you our money. You can have all of it.”

Gasps. Min and Isabel looked stricken. Gib blew out a long breath and shook his head. Carter’s gaze dulled and his chin rose proudly. “You think I’m a half-breed Indian welfare case? I’ve got money in the bank. I don’t deserve what you just said.”

“I don’t know
what
you deserve. I don’t
know you
. All I know is that you’re going to wreck my sister’s life.”

“I’d say her life’s
been
a wreck for a long time. I’m not going to be disrespectful to you, Miss Vee. You’re Ella’s sister. But your daddy just about
did
wreck you and that sweet girl, and I thank you for loving her and looking after her as best you could, but now I’ll take over for you, and I swear to God you’ll never have to worry about her again. I swear to you.”

“You won’t keep that vow longer than it takes to use her and throw her away,” I said in a low, strained voice.

“You’re wrong. For the first time in my life I feel like I’m whole instead of
half
. I’m not on the outside of the candy store with my nose pressed to the glass. I’ve got the other side of my heart now. You don’t know how it is to grow up feeling that you’re not a whole person. Not Cherokee. Not white.
Well, your sister
sees
me.
Me
. Clearer than anybody ever has before.”

“I don’t give a damn one way or the other about your bloodlines. My father could teach you a lesson or two about the courage it takes to grow up half-white and unwanted.” I turned to walk away, then looked back in defeat. “You’re marrying
his
bloodline, and you’ll
never
live up to it.”

Ella was dressing for the wedding. A clock on the fireplace in our guest room chimed ten times. “I’ll wear this white blouse and the gold linen skirt that goes with my suit, and my gold pumps, and—” She halted. I was simply staring at her from the center of the room. Her shoulders sagged. She stood there in an ivory knee-length slip, wiping her eyes, then wiping her wet fingertips on the silk. She’d been crying since I shut the bedroom door. “Go ahead and talk to me,” she begged.

“You can’t do this. It’s insane.”

“All spiritual devotion is reckless. But I feel to the core of my being that this is what I
have
to do. We sat for an hour on a mountaintop just watching the eagles glide in the sky.
Eagles
, Vee. We didn’t say a word, and it felt perfect. And then other times we talked so quickly we finished each other’s sentences.”

“What happened when you weren’t talking or watching birds of prey?”

“We talked about sex, but then he said, ‘I want to be different with you. I want to be sacred.’ I agreed. And he asked me to marry him. And I said yes. It was so easy, Vee. So right.”

“Did you tell him about Detroit?”

“No. He doesn’t need to know that.”

“Yes, he does. He’s acting like a sweet kid in love because he doesn’t know the responsibility you’re handing him. Don’t make him go into this blind. If you can’t be honest with him about what happened to you and how sick you were—”

“I’m well now! I can have more babies—I’m sure of it.
And I’m not crazy
.”

“I didn’t say you are or ever were
crazy
. I’m saying you have a history of special health concerns, and the man you’re going to marry ought to know about them.”

“I’ve finished grieving. I can move forward. I’m full of hope—more hope than I’ve ever had before. This is different. With him—it’s special. You can’t change my mind.”

I felt weighed down, trapped. I needed to push my hands against the air and spread invisible walls. “You can’t marry this man,” I repeated between gritted teeth. “People won’t understand. They’ll gossip. They’ll say you want his money, his name.”

“I’m used to gossip. So are you.”

“We’re a team. An act. You can’t break that up.”

Ella smiled. “We’re a great team, but we’re not much of an act, and you know it. I want to retire from show business. I love this valley, Sis. I love this family. There’s an old Victorian farm cottage beyond the east pastures.”

“Gib showed it to me. What’s the point?”

“It was built by one of Carter’s relatives. It needs a lot of work, but Carter’s been making plans to restore it. He took me there and carried me over the threshold, and he said he could picture me in that house with him and our children! Oh, Sis! I’ll have a home! And children! And a husband I truly love. And you’ll always have a home, too. We’ll both be part of this family.”

I said softly, “You’re marrying a stranger because you’re desperate to replace your lost baby and you want to guarantee a home for us.”

“No! Oh, dear Lord, no. Don’t think that!”

“I won’t let you do it.”

“Vee, I’m not marrying just to have babies and a place to live! I’m marrying for absolute and total, passionate, honest
love
. To build a home and a family with my life’s partner.”

“I’ll make a deal with you. We’ll find a permanent job in
Nashville. We’ll sell the RV and get an apartment. You can visit here. Carter can visit you. Take it nice and slow, see how you feel about him as you get to know him better. How’s that for a compromise?”

“It’s very safe and reasonable,” she said, “but I don’t need to create artificial safety with Carter. I
am
safe with him. I’ve never felt that way before with a man.”

“He’s two years younger than you. He doesn’t have a real job or any apparent ambition. He has a two-bit harem in town. You don’t even know his family, other than his aunt and uncle.”

“Age makes no difference. And of course he has a job—he’s taken care of everything around the Hall, and the outbuildings, and the livestock this past year—and the Camerons are his family. The Macintoshes and the Camerons take care of each other.”

“You’re
my
family. I thought you trusted me to build a future for us.”

“I’m trying to stand up for what’s best for you, too. We can’t go on the way we were. I love you, Sis, but I’ve fallen
in love
with the right man, finally. The only man for me. Please try to learn to love him as your brother-in-law.” The thought was so preposterous I could only gape at her. The clock chimed ten-fifteen and I flinched.

She took my icy hands. “Give him a chance. Give this family a chance. Feel the difference these people can make in our lives. And the goodness we can add to their lives. They need us, Vee.”

I bit my tongue. “Sandsprings Resort,” I offered, watching her with urgent, strained enthusiasm. “I’m sure we can have six months if we want it. Starting the first of October. The main lounge.”

Ella loved Sandsprings. It was in northern Florida, a few miles from Daytona Beach. We’d wintered there twice before. The weather hovered around sixty degrees most days, and the clientele were mainly snowbird retirees and old folks
nesting on fat pension funds. Sandsprings guaranteed good tips, few hassles, and long, peaceful walks along the sand dunes of the Atlantic coast. “I’ll call the manager right now,” I said.

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