“Brina… Pet…” Dru whispered.
“I’d like to see them now. Will you help me sit up? Comb my hair?”
“Yes, Dru. Of course. I’ll help you.” She was blinded by tears and fought to keep them from falling.
“Please, won’t you eat something? You’ll feel stronger if you do.” She rose from the bed and grabbed another pillow to place behind Dru’s back.
“No. I just need to see my girls.” Gavin tossed a rake of hay into Scamp’s stall, then made his way toward the house. His mood was as dark and heavy as when he’d taken off that morning, but he’d been gone too long already. Dru would be wondering what was wrong. He didn’t know yet what he would tell her. He only knew he couldn’t tell her the truth. The moment he pushed open the door, he sensed something was wrong. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Rachel appeared suddenly in the bedroom doorway. Her face looked pale and drawn.
“Gavin,” she whispered. His heart skipped a beat, cold tentacles of dread spreading through his veins. She took a step forward.
“Dru…” Quick strides carried him across the parlor. He brushed past her and into the dimly lit bedroom, stopping just inside the doorway. Dru’s arms were around Petula’s shoulders. She kissed the child’s forehead, then lay back against the pillows. Her eyes met Gavin’s and she offered a tiny smile.
“Here’s your pa. It’s time I talked to him. And then I must rest. Good night, children. I…” Her voice broke.
“I love you.”
“Ma…” Sabrina was having a hard time controlling her tears.
“I know, Brina. I know.” She sighed as she closed her eyes.
“Now go with Miss Harris.”
Gavin watched as Sabrina took hold of Petula’s hand and led her little sister across the room. Hazel eyes, identical to her mother’s, glanced up at him as they walked by. He felt immobilized by the pain he saw written in them, helpless to remove or heal the hurt.
“Come along, girls,” he heard Rachel say behind him. A moment later, the door closed with a soft click. Dru opened her eyes once more.
“I was waiting for you.” He moved forward on stiff legs.
“Hold my hand, Gavin.” He knelt on the hard floor and did as she’d asked.
“You’ve been a good friend.
To me and to Charlie.”
“Dru ..”
“No, don’t say anything. There isn’t time.” Her gaze, although weary, was tender.
“From the moment I first laid eyes on Charlie, I knew there was something’ special between us. There wasn’t anything in this world that would’ve kept me from being’ his bride. Not anything.” He nodded, his throat too tight to try to speak again, even if she hadn’t told him to keep still.
“I’m not afraid to die, Gavin. The girls have got you and Rachel. They’ll be fine. Just fine. And I’ll be with Charlie.” Her eyes closed again, and she was silent for a long time. Her chest scarcely moved. Gavin tightened his grip on her hand.
“Don’t be afraid to love someone… like I did Charlie. It ….. makes . everything in life… worthwhile.” She looked at him then, and it seemed to Gavin that she was already far away.
“What happened in the past… can’t be changed… but the future… can.” Again the lengthy silence.
“I… wish you… love.” She pulled her hand from his, lifting her fingertips to touch his cheek. Then her hand fell listlessly to her side as her eyes fluttered closed.
“Charlie ..” The name was whispered with an exhaled breath. There was no matching intake of air to replace it. Gavin had no idea how long he knelt there, unmoving, unthinking, scarcely even feeling. There was a great hollowness inside him, devouring everything, leaving only emptiness. He didn’t hear the door open, wasn’t aware of the rustle of petticoats as Rachel entered the room, coming to stand beside him. He didn’t feel her hand upon his shoulder.
“Gavin?” He lifted his head, raising his eyes toward the woman at his side. He wondered why she was there.
“Gavin, she’s gone.” He looked once more toward the bed. He knew that what he saw was only an empty shell. The essence that had been Drucilla Porter Blake was gone, escaping the bonds of earth, leaving behind the pain.
“She’s with Charlie,” he said hoarsely. A sob caught in Rachel’s throat.
“I know.” He picked up Dru’s hand and tenderly laid it across her chest. Her voice seemed to echo softly through the room. I wish you love. And as he heard the silent words repeated, a chink appeared in the carefully constructed wall around Gavin’s heart.
Chapter Eighteen
Rachel stood on the grassy knoll, her right hand on Sabrina’s shoulder, her left on Petula’s. Patrick stood beside her, likewise offering what comfort he could with an arm around Rachel’s back. Gavin stood on the other side of the grave, his face a controlled mask. The minister’s voice droned on, dispensing words of consolation and hope. Overhead, gray clouds rolled across the heavens, driven by a frigid wind. The weather seemed in keeping with the sorrow that blanketed the friends and neighbors who had gathered to bid Drucilla Blake farewell. As Reverend Keating’s final prayer was carried to the mourners on the wind, the snow began to fall. People departed somewhat quickly after that.
Rachel gazed across the grave site at Gavin, but he made no move to leave, even after the last person had offered his condolences and gone. Her heart ached for Gavin. She wished desperately for a means to console him. But even as she wished it, she knew she couldn’t. She was an outsider to his grief. He’d made everyone an outsider in the two days since Dru’s death.
“Come along, girls,” she said.
“We must get inside.” When Petula, blinded by tears and sobbing, stumbled over a ground squirrel hole, Patrick caught her up and cradled her against him. Rachel held tightly to Sabrina’s hand as the foursome made their way down the gentle slope and back to the house. As the others entered the front door, Rachel turned around and looked back toward the knoll. The snow was falling in large gentle flakes, but she could still see Gavin’s silhouette against the mountain.
“Rachel?” She turned toward the sound of Patrick’s voice.
“You’ll take cold, lass. Come in. Sure and I’ve got a fire goin’ on the hearth.” She nodded, then cast one final glance over her shoulder before entering the house and closing the door. Patrick seemed to understand her concern.
“Give him time, Rachel.” That’s what Dru had said. Give him time. But, lord help her, she wanted to give him much more than time. She wanted to offer real comfort. Not just words and platitudes. She wanted to share his grief, help him carry the burden of sorrow.
“Come here, lass.” Patrick said gently as he took hold of her hand and drew her toward him. He pushed the hood from her hair then loosened the clasp of her cloak and removed it from her shoulders. Finally, he pulled her into his embrace.
“There now. You’ll not have to worry. Patrick O’Donnell is here for you.” She was grateful for a strong shoulder to lean on. Even now, with so much else on her mind and in her heart, she knew that by doing so she was indicating the direction her relationship with Patrick was headed. But that was what she’d wanted, she reminded herself. Nothing had changed since she’d made that decision. Not really. Gavin seemed as forbidden to her now as ever before, though why that should be she wasn’t quite sure. That was a lie, she thought as she pressed her face against Patrick’s shirt. She had envied another woman her husband. She had succumbed to his kisses. She had been tempted to do much more than that. She was guilty of a cardinal sin, lusting after a married man. Her punishment now was to be forever denied what she wanted most. She felt as if she were shattering into pieces. How was she to keep her promise to Dru, to help Gavin and the children through this time of sorrow? How was she to survive Gavin’s nearness, knowing that their time together was fleeting at best? Patrick’s arms tightened around her.