Chase the Wind (6 page)

The next Sunday was the first in Advent. It was a beautiful winter
day with the sun sparkling on the coating of ice on the trees. Ian had been at church, in the back row as usual, and his grin flashed
as he rode by her carriage after church. Faith realized it had been
a while since she had seen it. She couldn’t wait to meet him. She
began imagining the moment, and then realized that their carriage
had passed the turn to their house.

“Where are we going?” she asked her father. He had just urged the horse into a trot on the frozen ground. Ahead of them was the
Masons’ carriage, with Randolph riding alongside on Armageddon.

“We’ve been invited to dinner.” Miriam smiled sweetly at her
from her perch beside her husband.

Once again, Faith was trapped. She narrowed her eyes at the
back of Miriam’s head. She knew Ian would wait for her in the
woods, but she also knew that he would look for her when she
didn’t come. He would see that their carriage had not returned.
When they made the turn into the Masons’ drive, she surrepti
tiously dropped her glove over the side of the carriage.

Later that afternoon, the two families were gathered in the library. Faith had chosen a straight-backed chair to sit in, the rest
were casually arranged on sofas around the fireplace. The men were
enjoying snifters of brandy while the women sipped sherry. Faith
had declined the offer of a drink. Her perch gave her a view of the
drive, and her heart began to pound when she saw Ian coming up it on the chestnut. He dismounted in front of the house, and they
soon heard his steady knock on the door. The butler hastened to
answer it and soon presented Ian.

“Yes, Duncan, what is it?” the elder Mason asked, and then
quickly explained who Ian was to his guests.

“I found this out on the drive.” Ian stepped into the room with
the glove in his hand. “I thought perhaps it might belong to one
of your guests.”

Faith put her hand to her mouth in pretend surprise. “I believe that could be mine!” she exclaimed and rose from her chair. “Let
me check my cloak to see if one is missing.” She was out in the hall before anyone could protest, and the butler led her to where
her cloak was hanging. She examined her pockets and held one
glove up to the man. He stepped aside to let Ian hand her the
other. Ian gave him a look, and the man raised his eyebrows and
went back to his post.

“Leave your window open,” he said with a wink and went out
the front door.

“We believe he’s found a girl in town. He spends every Sunday afternoon there,” Mrs. Mason was saying to Miriam when Faith
came back into the library.

“He’s good with horses, that’s for sure,” Mr. Mason added.

Randolph snorted his contribution. “His horses don’t have any
stamina. That mare of his failed the first time I rode her. He’s going
to weaken our stock, I tell you.”

Mrs. Mason apologized for her son. “He thinks every horse
should be like his Armageddon,” she explained.

Faith mentally compared the big, bulky horse with the delicate Katrina, or even the tall chestnut, and found the black lacking in
every category except size. She looked up to find Randolph gazing at her. He tilted his glass to her in a silent toast, and Faith shivered.

“Are you cold, my dear?” Mrs. Mason asked, concern written on
her face.

“A little,” Faith answered. “I really haven’t felt well since last Sunday. I guess I just need to rest.” She looked pointedly at her father. “It looks like it might snow again.” The clouds were indeed
starting to gather outside.

Shrugging, her father got up to leave. It was obvious Faith was
not going to cooperate today, so they might as well go home.

Faith was sound asleep when Ian crept into her room later that
night. She had left her window wide open and was buried under
the covers. It had indeed snowed again, and wet flakes dripped off his hair and into her face when he moved the covers down to find
her. She came up out of the bed and threw her arms around him.

“Silly thing, I just meant for you to leave it cracked, not wide
open to let all the weather in.”

“Oh, Ian, when can we leave?” she cried into his neck. He pushed her back so he could see her face. He smoothed her hair back and smiled tenderly at her.

“Next Sunday eve, at bedtime,” he said. “The moon will be starting its cycle again, so we’ll be able to travel at night.” He kissed her forehead. “Make your bed up so if they check Monday morning they’ll think you’re still sleeping.” He hugged her again. “I just hope I can make it through another week without wringing Mason’s neck.”

Faith put a pillow over her mouth to stifle her laugh. “Me too,” she squeaked.

Clouds were gathering in the summer sky. Tall thunderheads began stacking one upon the other on the Ohio side of the river. In the upstairs comer bedroom of the Taylor house, Faith’s sleep became troubled, her face lined with stress as she dreamed about a winter’s day in mid-December.

They were leaving that night. Ian had ridden past her after church and included a wink with the standard grin. After the usual quiet Sunday dinner, Faith had escaped to her room to pack. Her warmest clothes were waiting in the bottom of her wardrobe. In a small carpetbag she placed a few essentials, along with her mother’s Bible and the quilt. There was nothing left to do now but wait. She had nothing to hold her there. The only relation she had in this world was a father who had barely noticed her in the twenty years of her life. She realized she wouldn’t miss him a bit.

She restlessly puttered about the room, straightening odds and ends, and then decided to try to rest. She knew that they would be riding all night, so it was best to sleep now, but slumber eluded her. The anticipation of being with Ian filled her mind. Eventually she did doze off and was awakened some time later by a feeling of disquiet. She lay there a minute, trying to decipher the mood of the house, but all was still. Maybe her father and Miriam had gone out, she thought.

She decided to visit the kitchen to see what kind of stores she could collect for their escape. She crept down the back stairs and had started into the kitchen when a flash of color caught her eye. She peered around a corner and saw Miriam standing in the main hall, her ear pressed to the closed door of the drawing room. Something was going on.

Faith went around into the dining room and crept up on the closed double doors that separated the two rooms. There was a crack between the doors, and she peered through. She saw her father deep in conference with Randolph Mason. She put her ear
to the crack to hear.

“I tell you the bastard is planning to steal her away.” Randolph’s
words hung viciously in the air.

“How can you say that?” Her father’s voice was desperate.

“He has a bad habit of talking to his horses. I overheard him
myself today.”

“But she doesn’t even know the man,” her father exclaimed.

“How many women named Faith are there that look like a silver
angel?” Mason sneered.

“What are we to do?” Her father dropped wearily into a chair.

“You keep your daughter in line, and I will take care of him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s threatened to kill me over that worthless mare. It would
be a simple thing for me to gun him down and claim self-defense.”
Mason seemed to relish the idea. “There were witnesses to the threat, and I’m sure some could convinced to say they saw the
deed—perhaps even you, Taylor.”

Her father wrung his hands.

Faith felt as if she were sliding into a hole.

“Of course you know I can’t pay you as much now, since she will be a tainted bride.” The words hung heavy in the room.

“I swear to you, she’s not been with any man.” Her father was
practically begging.

“I won’t know that for sure until our wedding night, and by then it will be too late to return the damaged goods,” Mason continued.
“You’d best take what I give you and be happy with it.”

Her father’s face was that of a man who had just made and lost
a fortune. Faith could not believe it. Her father had sold her to
Randolph Mason.

“Do you have to kill him?” the beleaguered man finally asked.
“I would hate for this death to be connected to our name somehow.
It would be a shame to tarnish the reputation of your bride.”

Apparently, Mason hadn’t thought of that. “No, we can’t have
that. We’ll just have to make sure she stays out of it.”

“Perhaps we can convince him that she won’t go with him.”

“I plan on having a talk with him myself about that very thing,”
Mason said with relish. “I have a few men in my employ who are even now arranging a surprise for that arrogant stable boy.” Mason rubbed his fist as if in anticipation of using it against Ian’s strong bronze jaw. “I also have men posted on the road to the east. If he’s decided to take her back to Richmond, he will be killed on sight and she will be returned posthaste.”

Faith looked out the window in panic. Dusk was coming, and Ian would arrive soon, to wait for her in the barn. She knew beyond a doubt that Mason would kill him, and no one would care or do anything about it. Worse, if Ian killed Mason, he would be hanged right before her eyes. She had to protect him, and the only way to do that was to send him away without her. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and went out through the kitchen to the barn.

Ian arrived nearly an hour later. Faith had taken shelter in the stall with their one horse for warmth. She was standing with her arms around the animal’s neck when she heard a soft creak from the back of the building. She came out of the stall and saw him standing in the shadows.

He stepped out into the light. His hair had fallen over his eyes again and he pushed the mass back. “You’re hardly dressed for traveling,” he said, moving his hand to indicate the Sunday dress she was still wearing.

“I can’t go with you.” Her voice broke on the words, and she clenched her fists together in the folds of her dress. She couldn’t cry now or he would know she was lying and do something foolish.

Ian grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her. “What do you mean?” His deep blue eyes bored into her soul, and anguish covered his face.

“I can’t go with you. I need to know that I’ll have a home, a nice home, and clothes, and parties and . . .”

“All the things that a man like Randolph Mason can give you.” He ground the man’s name out between clenched teeth.

She tremblingly nodded her assent, and he pushed her away in disgust. She caught herself and put her hand over her mouth to cover the sob that erupted from within. Ian had his back to her.

“Was it all a lie, then?”

She couldn’t answer; she had to make him leave before it was too late.

“What’s going on here?” It was her father, coming through the
door in a rush. Faith prayed that Mason wasn’t with him. Her father
walked up between them. Ian turned and looked beyond him at Faith, who could not control the flood of tears that burst from her
eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re doing here, Duncan, but if you’ve
come for my daughter, you’re wasting your time. I haven’t invested
all this money raising her to see her take up with the likes of you.”

Ian never took his eyes off Faith.

“Please go,” she cried. Ian’s dark blue eyes were fixed on her. He
finally turned and went to the door that opened into the woods. He paused, his hand gripping the jamb, and then he ducked out
into the darkness beyond.

When Ian faded into the night, Faith felt all the light and warmth
go out of her. She became aware that her father was shaking her
when her head snapped forward and she bit her tongue.

“Do you hear me?” he screamed. She looked at him as if she had never seen him before. “Do you understand me?” His face was red
with anger. “You are never to speak of him again.”

Faith nodded in agreement. That was fine with her, she couldn’t bear it if she heard them say his name. “Father, let go of me,” she
begged. He released her, and she fell to the floor of the stable.

“I expect we’ll have no more of your nonsense where Mason is
concerned.”

She shook her head again. Anything, she’d agree to anything.
Just please, God, don’t let them hurt Ian.