"Yes, our weather has been very pleasant. How is it in Washington?" Sarah replied, feeling every bit as awkward as he. She could not help but note that Lars seemed ill at ease and was certain something she had done, or had failed to do, was the cause.
"Humid, as it is every summer," Lars admitted with a nervous smile.
"Your patients must be quite miserable, then," Sarah observed thoughtfully.
"Well yes, they certainly are, poor devils." Lars sat forward then, tempted to say more about the wounded men in his care, but then he caught himself. "I'm sure you don't want to hear about them."
Disappointed that they were having such a difficult time holding a simple conversation, Sarah assured him that wasn't the case. "I spent nearly three months visiting at the hospital while Mark was there. While I'm certain most of the men who were patients then must have recovered sufficiently to go home, I'm still interested in how those who remain and the new arrivals are doing. Won't you please tell me something about them?"
Surprised to find her interest genuine, Lars at last began to relax and talked at length about his patients and his continuing beUef in the benefits of having a positive attitude. "Unfortunately, we see so many men we have little chance to get to know them as individuals, but I do my best to match the names with the faces and let them all know I care about them, just as I did with Mark."
While Sarah had enjoyed hearing his comments, now that their discussion had returned to her brother, she asked the question she had never dared mention to Erica. "I was so thrilled just to have Mark survive his injuries and come home, but shouldn't he be more like his old self by now?"
Lars looked away for a moment, wondering what had happened to the kitten. Then he saw him beneath a roseoush, snuggled in a tight ball sound asleep. "There is a vast difference between having a positive lookout and having totally unrealistic expectations, Sarah." He looked back toward her then, thinking her brown eyes wonderfully expressive, and hating to think how swiftly they would fill with pain. "Mark is as well as he will ever be. He'll have to have someone like Etienne to accompany him wherever he goes. He'll never be able to earn a living to support my daughter and their child. It's a blessing that won't create a financial burden for either your family or ours. I'm truly sorry, but while I managed to save your brother's life, there was nothing I could do about the injuries to his brain. Just love him for who he is, but don't exf)ect any more from him than he is able to provide now."
While Sarah had suspected that might be the case, she had kept hoping and praying that Mark would graduallv continue to improve, so that even if he were always blina, he would one day be as bright and fun-filled as she remembered him to be. Her eyes filling with tears, she drew a lace-trimmed linen handkerchief from her sleeve and brought it to her eyes.
"Forgive me for being so foolish. I have known all along that miracles don't really happen, and I shouldn't have kept waiting for one. Would you excuse me, please? I really must be getting home."
"Of course." Lars rose and offered his hand to help her to her feet. "It's Saturday, and I know despite the war there
must be parties and dances tonight." Still dabbing away her tears, Sarah hesitated upon the
Eath before gathering all her courage and replying in a reathless rush. "As a matter of fact, I am going to a party tonight. It's at the Bergstroms' home. I'm certain it they knew you were in town they would be happy to include you, too. I could come by for you with my carriage, if you'd like to go."
That she would want to invite him to go with her surprised Lars so greatly that it took him several seconds to think of a reason to refuse. "That's very nice of you, but no. I came here to see my daughter, and obviously she's not up to going to parties now."
Sarah nodded, grateful he had used Erica's pregnancy as an excuse rather than saying he had no interest in spending the evening with her. Her hopes dashed for both her brother and herself, she bid him farewell and left, but she cried all the way home and considered sending an excuse to the Bergstroms' rather than attending their party alone.
Erica had not even tried to sleep, and when she heard Sarah's carriage leave she knew there was no longer any need to pretend to be resting. When she found her father still outdoors, she joined him. She loved the fragrant serenity of the garden, but she seldom spent time there, since Viper and Mark preferred it to the house and she avoided the brave's company whenever possible.
Lars greeted his daughter with kisses ujx>n both cheeks and kept her hand clasped in his as they strolled along the winding path. "Sweetheart, you know how much I love you, but there's something I feel I must say."
Fearing the worst. Erica braced herself. "What is it. Daddy?"
"You're only eighteen, baby, and well, I know Mark isn't the man you married. Alter your baby is bom, I'm afraid you'll have two children to care for rather than one." Lars feared he was stating what he wished to say poorly, but knowing it was important, he forced himself to press on. "Wdl, what I mean is, it isn't easy to be married to an invalid, especially for a woman as beautiful and young as you, and you're bound to be tempted to form alliances with other men."
That warning was so unexpected that Erica started to giggle and couldn't stop. "Allilances, Daddy? Isn't what you're really talking about affairs?"
"Damn it all. Erica, this isn't a bit funnyl" Lars scolded.
"Oh yes, it is!" Erica couldn't help herself. She had been so worried her father would guess Viper's identity that it was a tremendous relief to discover he was worried about something else entirely. Overcome with laughter, she made her way to the bench and sat down. When finally she was able to regain her composure, she apologized.
"I'm sorry, but just look at me. Do you hcwiestly think I could drive any man wild with passion now?" she asked with an impish smile.
"I said after the baby comes. That's what I'm talking about, but believe me, there are plenty of men who find pregnant women attractive. I never could leave your mother alone, but that's neither here nor there. What I'm trying to say is that while some women in your circumstances might be prone to having affairs, it is something you must avoid. I don't mean for you to stay shut up here in the house all the time. You ought to go to diurch, join ladies' circles and clubs, but as long as Mark is alive, don't let a breath of scandal touch your name. You owe that to your dear mother's memory, if not to Mark and me.
Now alarmed, Erica interrupted what she considered a totally unnecessary lecture. "What do you mean, 'as long as Mark is alive'? Is there something you haven't told me?"
Lars si^ed, fearing he was upsetung everyone that day. Joining his daughter on the bench, he tried to be more tactful. "I told you I couldn't remove all the shell fragments from his brain. Does he still have headaches?"
"Yes, occasionally he does, but you told us that was to be expected."
"Well, I think it is, but I don't know enough about his type of injury to say whether or not he'll have worse problems in the future. We'll just have to hope that he doesn't, but at the same time be prepared that he might."
Puzzled now, as well as worried. Erica did appreciate his honesty. "I understand," she whispered softly, all traces of humor gone from her expression. "We'll just continue to do the best that we can for him."
"Yes, that's all we can do." Lars wasn't certain he had made his original point, however, and returned to it. "Look, I have no idea what could have possessed you to run off with an Indian, but since your behavior has been, to say the least, wild in the past, I don't think it is pre> sumptuous of me to caution you to be more circumspect in the way you live your life now. As an example, I don't think it's a good idea having Etienne living in the house. His behavior appears to be respectful toward you, but who is to say he won't someday try to take advantage of you? He is a nice-looking young man, and you're bound to be lonely. You could find yourself beginning something with him you might swiftly regret but find impossible to end. It could happen. I've seen now good he is with Mark, but for your own sake, I think you should dismiss him and find an older man. Someone who won't provide an ounce of temptation for you."
It was the reference to her "wild" behavior that had snapped the thin hold Erica had on her emotions, and when he paused to take a breath she immediately defended her actions. "It was love that prompted me *to run off with an Indian,' as you put it, and I don't consider what I did wild at all. As for Etienne, his friendship means far too much to Mark for me to dismiss him simply because you think I might someday have an affair with the man. That's an absurd request, and I'll not even consider it.
"Since you are so free with your advice, I have some for you, as well," Erica continued in the same hostile tone. "Sarah thinks you're the most wonderful man she's ever met. God knows why. You are handsome, but so oblivious to her charms it's a wonder she will even speak to you. I know how much you loved Mother, but you're a young man still, and you can't go on grieving for her forever." Erica realized she hadn't been in the least discreet as she had promised Sarah she would, but damn it all, her father had made her mad.
Lars was so astonished by Erica's revelations about Sarah that he could scarcely believe she was serious. "Isn't Sarah about your age?" he asked incredulously. "Why would she be interested in me?"
"Sarah will be twenty-six soon, so she's certainly old enough to know her own mind. You have intelligence,
looks, charm upon occasion, so why wouldn't she be attracted to you?"
"I had absolutely no idea," Lars replied in dismay. He slumped back against the bench, certain he must have unintentionally hurt Sarah's feelings by rehising her invitation for the evening. "She's an attractive woman, and very sweet, but, baby, it would be wron^ of me to encourage her affection when I've none to give in return."
"It was Mother who died. Daddy, not you," Erica reminded him gently.
Unconvinced, Lars continued to frown. "She asked me to be her escort for a party at the Bergstroms' tonight. At least I think now that was what she was trying to do."
"Then you're going with her?" Erica asked in delighted surprise.
No, I said I had come home to see you, not the Bergstroms," Lars admitted sheepishly.
"Oh Daddy, you're hopeless." The kitten had awakened, and after stretching languidly it bounded over to Erica and rubbed against her ankles. She scooped him up in her hands and gave him an affectionate squeeze. "I think you better go over to Sarah's this very minute and apologize for being such a dolt. If she still thinks she can tolerate your company, ask to take her to the party. After all, you and Nils Bergstrom used to be good friends."
"Yes, we were." Lars reached over to scratch the kitten's ears. "You'd not mind if I went to the party?"
"Of course not. Go and have a wonderful time. You can tell me all about it tomorrow." With her father's assistance, Erica managed to rise from the bench without too much difficulty, out it wasn't until he had left for Sarah's house that she drew a deep breath. He could imagine she might be tempted to have affairs if he liked. She didn't care what he thought, actually, as long as he didn't guess the truth.
Viper was reading aloud to Mark from a worn copy of The Last of the Mohicans, but when he looked up, he found the young man sound asleep. He was lying on his stomach, his right arm dangling over the side of the bed, his hand curled around the sleeping kitten who had made himself at home in an old wicker basket Viper had found in the carriage house. A happy smile graced Mark's lips, and Viper marked his place and closed the book slowly to avoid waking him.
The brave had seen few novels in Minnesota, but that Mark had wanted to hear an adventurous tale concerning an Indian's love for a white woman had struck him as a peculiar coincidence. Mark never mentioned the time he had spent in Minnesota, and Viper couldn't help but wonder if he even remembered being there now. It was highly probable that he didn't, since all his memories tended to be hazy.
Mark had remembered kittens, though. The minute he had seen the playful little animal Viper had wanted to take it home for Erica, but it was clear that Mark considered the kitten his. With all their other problems, that mix-up was a slight disappointment, however. Erica would soon have a baby to take up all her time, while Mark would be content with the kitten.
Certain his charge would sleep until the morning. Viper left the book on his chair, snuffed out the lamp, and started
iar the door. Then he hesitated. He was certain Erica kept her door locked now, but she was so devoted to Mark that she would surely not lock him out of her room. Making his way carefully in the dark, Viper went to the connecting door between Erica's and Mark's room and slowlyj turned the handle.
Erica was seated at her dressing table. Too restless and uncomfortable to sleep, she was brushing her hair with long, even strokes when she saw Viper's reflection in her mirror. She first raised her finger to her lips to beg for silence, then motioned for him to come in. 1
Viper stepped through the door, then turned to close it « with the same care he had given toop>ening it. Crossing the room to Erica's side, he bent down to brush her cheek with a light kiss. "How are you this evening, my darling?" he whispered in the thick French accent he conjured up whenever he became Etienne.
Waving him away with her hairbrush. Erica scolded him crossly. "My father actually believes you are who you're pretending to be. He also told me you are far too handsome and suggested I hire an older man instead, so I'd never be tempted to have an affair with you."
Viper couldn't help but laugh at Lars's advice. "Fire me, if you must. I will be back tomorrow with a white wig and a cane and you can hire me all over again. Of course, I will « still have no references," he added with a mocking grin.
Erica stared up at him, disgusted that he would tease her when she had been so frightened of what her father might discover about him. Obviously he didn't care how ^atly she had suffered because of him. "You'd do it too, wouldn't you?" she asked with a haughty toss of her curls.