“Marry me,” he said.
Ciana burst into tears.
Jon recoiled, looked shocked. “I—I didn’t mean to—I mean—”
She shushed him with a kiss, pulled away, said, “I love you, Jon Mercer. Dammit.”
He laughed loudly. “Dammit? You do have a way with words, Ciana.”
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, opened her tightly closed palm holding the ring. “I am battered and stitched and I have big ugly bruises all over my body and you think it’s the perfect time to get engaged?”
He ignored her complaint, peered into her cinnamon-colored eyes. “Thought I’d pick a time when you were vulnerable. Did it work?”
She held up the ring, slid it on her finger, but it wouldn’t slide over her knuckle. “Previous owner had small hands.”
Jon watched her turn her hand to catch the feeble light on the exquisite ring. “It once belonged to my great-great-great-grandmother on my mother’s side. Isabella Elena Cordoba-Cortez. According to Mom, she was from an old Castilian family, a descendant of German, Visigoth, and Roman conquerors. Her husband had this ring fashioned for her as a wedding gift.”
“Tell me more.” Ciana spun the ring, admired the carvings clearly created by a master artisan.
“Well, his name was Bolívar and he brought her from Spain to Mexico, and together they built a cattle empire that was said to span a third of the country. She was blond and blue-eyed and so beautiful that peasants fainted when they saw her.” He grinned. “Great story. Course, the cattle empire is long gone and my mama’s people are poor and living in Texas. Mom wore this ring when she married Wade, took it off when they divorced. When I went home over the holidays, I told her I’d found the one girl in the world I wanted to give Isabella’s ring to, and she let me bring it back. I want you to wear it, Ciana.”
She watched his eyes as he spoke, her heart so filled with love for him that it ached. “Well, since this is a wedding ring, on the day we marry, I’ll put it on forever.”
“Is that a promise?”
“My oath.”
“Then all we’re discussing here is when, right?”
“Can I heal first?”
His grin made his green eyes glow. He gathered her in his arms, lay across the old quilt with Ciana pressed against him. She felt the rhythm of his heart under her hand resting on his chest. Above, she heard the music of hard rain and distant thunder. Below, she heard the horses moving in their stalls. She was surrounded with the scent of spring rain, fresh hay, old lumber, and the spice of Jon’s skin. She floated between her past and her future on the dreamlike cusp of all her tomorrows. In Jon Mercer she had found her soul mate. It had been written in the stars that night they’d first met, but impossible for her to see at the time. And later, when they’d again come together, her friendship with Arie had held her feelings for Jon hostage, so that even after Arie’s death, Ciana had been unable to allow herself to love him the way she wanted to. No longer. From this moment on, she would face her life with this one perfect person by her side.
Two days later, Eden and Garret bounced into the flow of Bellmeade life inside a white camper loaded to the brim with camping gear and luggage. Even before the vehicle stopped rolling, Eden bounded out like an exuberant puppy, ran up the porch steps, and threw herself into Ciana’s waiting arms. Ciana held her breath, willing her ribs to not hurt through the squeeze of Eden’s embrace. Alice Faye hugged Eden next and finally Jon.
“G’day, mate.” Garret’s words from the porch step cracked into their reunion.
Eden whirled, grabbed Garret’s hand, and pulled him up next to her for a round of introductions. “Where are my manners? This is my mate … my friend, Garret Locklin.”
Ciana kissed both his cheeks in the manner she’d learned in Europe. “Good to see you again.”
“You too.” He looked around with keen blue eyes. “Nice digs.”
Eden had called from the airport the day before to announce their arrival, so Ciana had watched from the porch the whole day. She’d said they’d drive over and get them, but Eden had insisted they’d arrive under their own power. “A camper?” Ciana now asked, looking out at the truck with metal housing that could sleep two.
“Bought and paid for in Nashville. Figured we’d need it to get around the country,” Eden explained. “Plus we can stay in it while we visit.”
Ciana understood the unspoken message. Eden and Garret were lovers and the camper would be their nighttime home. “You’d better stay a while!”
“We’re here as long as you want us.”
Garret said, “Won’t wear out our welcome, though.”
Alice Faye intervened. “I have fresh sweet tea and a homemade cake waiting to be cut in the kitchen. Come inside. And later you two bring in your luggage. No guest of ours is going to sleep in my driveway in a truck. It’s uncivilized. Eden, your old room is waiting, clean sheets on the bed. And Garret, you’re on the third floor in the room with Jon Mercer.”
Ciana saw Garret and Eden exchange glances, a look of panic passing between them. With unmistakable charm, her mother had just laid down the house rules—no cohabitation allowed. Ciana suppressed a smile as Alice Faye hooked her arm through Garret’s and walked him to the door. “Welcome to America, and to Bellmeade, Garret. So happy you’re here.”
Eden lingered in bed, stretched, reached for Garret, then remembered he was upstairs in another room. She sighed. It was the first morning she’d awoken without him beside her in many weeks. They’d slept together at his house throughout the long process of telling friends and family goodbye while waiting for tickets and Garret’s visa. Even on the long flight from Australia, they’d slept holding on to each other. Eden formed dark thoughts toward Alice Faye, felt contrite and quickly erased them, realizing the woman still embraced the Southern morality code: propriety above all else. Even Gwen, not always the best reflection of motherhood, had complained about appearances when Eden had moved in with Tony. Eden knew there had been other reasons for her objections, but with Garret, it was different. They were madly in love, and being in each other’s arms every night had only strengthened their bond.
“It is what it is,” she told herself, and tossed off the covers. Olivia’s former room was just as she remembered it—quaint and cozy, decked out with lace pillows and old quilts and highly polished mahogany furniture over a hundred years old. And despite not being able to have Garret in the room with her, it felt wonderful to be back. To be home. She saw the alarm clock, realized she’d overslept, dressed quickly, and hustled downstairs to the kitchen where all except Jon sat around the table talking and drinking coffee.
Garret got to his feet, kissed her soundly. “Ciana’s mother thinks I talk funny,” he said, seating Eden and going for coffee.
“No way,” Eden teased. “He speaks four languages, including Aussie.”
Alice Faye had turned bright red. “I didn’t say funny. Just different.”
“You only need to know a few phrases, Mom,” Ciana said. “ ‘G’day’ is good morning or good afternoon or good evening—”
“ ‘Short black’ and ‘long black’ refer to the size coffee you want to buy,” Eden interjected.
“A ‘bloke’ is a man,” Ciana added.
“A ‘sheila’ is a girl—”
“ ‘Billy boil’ is a teapot of hot water.”
“ ‘Ear bashing’ is something a nonstop talker does—”
“And in the south we say ‘kiss my grits’ when people are heckling you,” Alice Faye announced with a flourish.
Everyone laughed. Alice Faye went to fixing breakfast, and soon the smell of bacon mixed with the aromas of coffee and baking biscuits. Garret turned to Ciana. “My bunk mate was gone when I woke up. Maybe I was snoring.”
“Jon went to tend to the horses. He’ll have breakfast with us,” Ciana said.
Jon did, but as soon as he was finished, he headed back to the barn. Eden poked Garret. “Go see if he needs any help. Ciana and
I are going to settle in for a nice long chat. Lots of catching up to do.”
Ciana had barely closed her bedroom door when Eden pounced. “What happened to you? Did you think I might not notice your bruises? Or the way you favor your right side?”
Ciana stretched out on her bed gingerly, leaned against the headboard. “Gee, and I thought you’d tell me about your near drowning experience and Garret’s hateful old girlfriend first thing.”
Eden had emailed Ciana about the beach party and Alyssa’s outing her dark secret but had insisted that she was doing fine and that she’d fill in details when she got home. The two friends stared at each other, then simultaneously threw their arms around one another and sniffled, telling of how each had missed the other and how glad they were to again be together. When they finally settled down, Eden grabbed tissues, blew her nose, and said, “You first, Ciana.”
Ciana started with the vandalism, which Eden knew about, and ended with the accident, which she hadn’t known about. “You should have told me.”
“Nothing you could have done from so far away except fret. You’re here now and can see for yourself I’m banged up, but fine.”
After grumbling at Ciana anyway, Eden recounted her story, finishing with the camping trip.
“So I guess Mama’s edict about separate rooms for you two seems prehistoric.”
“We won’t go against your mother’s wishes.” Eden conceded defeat. “But we’ll find private time together because we need to be with each other. Maybe drive the camper someplace where we can be alone. You and Jon can borrow it if you wish,” Eden added, cutting her eyes to Ciana.
“Not going there with Jon until I can move freely. I want our first time together to be perfect.”
“When two people are in love, it is perfect,” Eden said.
Ciana tipped her chin. “And no need to use your camper for alone time. There’s a loft in the barn, and an old trunk with a quilt and throw pillows in it. Barn’s mostly empty all day, and after Jon shuts it down, place is empty most nights, too … except for the horses, and they won’t talk. Take a bottle of wine with you,” she added with a wink.
Eden grinned. “I’d have never thought of that. Any reason you have a quilt and pillows in the loft?”
“I go there when I have downtime and read Olivia’s diaries.”
“The diaries!” Eden smacked her forehead. “How’s that going? You discovering all about her past?”
Ciana grew somber. “Maybe more than I need to know.”
“Tell me.”
Ciana sighed, shook her head. “I think … I believe she had an affair with Roy.”
Eden’s eyes widened. “Really?” She saw the tortured impact of the revelation on Ciana’s face, decided to tread softly. “What makes you think that?”
Ciana shifted to try to get comfortable. “For some reason, she was all alone for almost a week during a January ice storm. Roads were impassable. She had no electricity, not much food. She had to melt ice for drinking water in the fireplace, and actually burned some furniture to stay warm. It wasn’t long after Charles Junior had been killed. She wrote that she thought she was going insane with loneliness.” Ciana looked up, shook her head sadly. “She was trapped, couldn’t leave Bellmeade, but in spite of the weather she had a visitor.”
“Roy?”
Ciana nodded. “He got out here somehow. Somehow knew she’d be alone. He stayed for three days. And he ‘comforted’ her. That’s how she wrote it in the diary—comforted. There were no other details. I think I know what she meant. What about you?”
Sunlight spilled across Ciana’s bed in buttery yellow pools as Eden took a minute to formulate what she wanted to say. What had happened during those days between Olivia and Roy was speculation, and yet knowing how Olivia had been drawn to Roy, Eden could not come to any other conclusions. She took Ciana’s hand, which felt cold in spite of the warm sun. “From all we’ve read, the two of them were on a collision course. We know she was fascinated with him. They were hung up on each other—love-hate, fatal attraction—call it what you will, but maybe this encounter, and how it turned out, was inevitable.”
“Why didn’t she make him go away when he showed up? She was married! And from other things she wrote, Roy was married too. Had a child too.”
“I know how you worshipped her, but I also know what it’s like to be in someone’s snare … in their thrall. I felt that way about Tony in the beginning. He was … addictive. I wanted him so bad, I was physically ill over it. And I sure lived to regret it.” Eden’s admission came with physical pain, yet she couldn’t stand seeing Ciana’s disillusionment with the grandmother she had idolized.
“You were a kid. My grandmother was a grown woman.” Tears of anger and frustration brimmed in Ciana’s eyes. “She loved my grandfather. She told me so many times.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But Roy wanted her. And she was vulnerable. Alone, grieving, scared. He took advantage.” Yet Eden knew there was more to the story by the look on Ciana’s face. She waited.
“She—she wrote about it again, but not until months later.” Ciana reached into her bedside table’s drawer, pulled out an old water-damaged book, opened to a bookmarked page, and read, “ ‘This is my punishment. This is divine retribution. Oh God, what have I done?’ ” Ciana closed the book.
“Okay. See? Whatever happened with Roy, she regretted it.”
Ciana offered a tired, indulgent smile. She had to help Eden understand the awful importance of what Olivia had written fifty-four years before. “She wrote these words in April, three months after the ice storm. And right after she’d found out she was three months pregnant with my mother.”
Ciana’s words hit Eden like a splash of stone-cold water.
“Don’t you get it?” Ciana asked.
Eden racked her brain for a kinder spin on Olivia’s assessment of her pregnancy. Eden leaned forward, took Ciana by the shoulders, forced Ciana to look into her eyes. “Olivia was married. And as you said, she loved her husband. There’s no reason for you to think Alice Faye isn’t Charles’s child.”
“Olivia thought so.”
“No. Guilt and shame drove her, not certainty.”
“So? It built a wall around her heart, and Mom paid the price.” Ciana hugged her knees, chewed her bottom lip. “Should I tell Mom? It might help her understand Olivia’s rejection, which as it turns out was absolutely real.” She buried her face against her knees. “I—I don’t know what to do.”
Eden wanted to ease Ciana’s hurt, but she didn’t want Alice Faye, who’d been so kind to her, to suffer either. “What’s that oath that doctors say? ‘First, do no harm.’ I mean, what purpose would it serve to tell her? She’s a recovering alcoholic. She’s happy. Why drag this up? How can knowing this help? It isn’t like she can go to Olivia and hash things out, you know.”
Eden’s logic made sense, but still Ciana felt guilty withholding information that might bring her mother insight into Olivia’s motives and feelings.
Seeing Ciana’s hesitation, Eden pressed her advantage. “And now that you know, my advice to you, my dear friend, is to forget it. Don’t let it color your feelings toward your grandmother. I never had a grandmother I knew. I’ve always envied that you loved yours so very much.”
Ciana saw the wisdom of Eden’s words, but still her anger simmered. She’d slavishly clung to her image of Olivia, unwavering, defended her religiously to her mother. And now, seeing her in a different light, Ciana felt sorry for being so blind to the woman’s flaws. Sure, the knowledge might vindicate Alice Faye’s feelings, but what good would it do? Wasn’t it bad enough that her image of Olivia was tarnished? She remembered the old woman’s last days, her dementia and confusion. In spite of everything, Ciana still missed her. “I guess you’re right.”
“Exactly,” Eden said with a smile. She stretched her legs, felt the needles-and-pins sensation of blood flowing into cramped muscles. She leaned back on her hands. “So now tell me something happ
y.”
Ciana brushed aside her troubled feelings, offered a sly smile. “Well, you and Garret can’t go rushing off on your tour of America anytime soon.”
“We can’t?”
“I’m planting extra fields this year. Corn. I’ve already had the soil samples tested and analyzed for pH levels. That way I know how to best amend the soil—”
“Yikes! My eyes are glassing over,” Eden yelped.
Ciana grinned impishly. “Okay, if you don’t care about hanging around watching corn grow, how about hanging around for my wedding?”
Eden startled, then launched forward, grabbing Ciana. “How could you have not told me this the second I came in the door?”
“I’m a drama queen.”
“Have you picked a date?”
“This summer, before the corn harvest.” Eden rolled her eyes. Ciana continued, “Of course, I also need to line up a maid of honor.”
“Me?” Eden pointed to herself. “I’d be honored,” she added smugly. “Found a dress yet?”
“Haven’t had time to look for one.”
All at once, Eden’s eyes went wide. “Then you haven’t looked for my dress either.” Her expression turned panicky. “Oh, Ciana, please, please put me in a dress, not coveralls!”
Ciana burst out laughing.
Around lunchtime, Ciana and Eden took a picnic basket to Jon and Garret at the new corral and track. The men had ridden Caramel and Sonata, and Soldier rested beside the water trough. Both men were seated on the ground, and Garret was drawing on a pad of paper in his lap as Jon looked over his shoulder. Ciana asked, “What’s up?”
“We’re designing stables,” Jon said. “If I’m bringing in horses to train, they’ll need a place to stay. Turns out Garret has a background in construction.”
Garret looked up, grinned. “Growing up I spent every summer with my uncle, who owns his own building business. I learned how to handle every job. Just need to research your building codes. Jon and I will get a stable up in no time.”
Eden settled on the ground beside him. “Guess that means we’ll be staying awhile.”