The very minute she finished reading the disastrous news of the batde of Fredaricksburg, Sarah Randall rushed over to see her brother's wife. When she reached Erica's home she ran up the steps and pounded with so frantic a rhythm that Mrs. Ferguson feared she would shatter the beveled glass in the heavy oak door before she could swing it open. As soon as the gray-haired housekeeper greeted her, Sarah pushed her way inside.
"Where's Erica?" she asked breathlessly as she glanced into the parlor and found it empty.
A woman of impeccable taste and fine manners, Anna Ferguson could see no possible reason for Sarah to call at so early an hour or with such unseemly haste. "Mrs. Randall has yet to rise from her bed, Miss Randall. Perhaps you would like to return this afternoon when—" She was interrupted in midsentence as Sarah waved her aside and dashed up the stairs. With a disapproving frown Anna closed the door, turned the key in the lock, and returned to the kitchen, thinking young women had no manners at all any more. At least Miss Erica did, she thought proudly. Since she had come to work in the Hanson home shortly before Erica was bom, she knew she could rightly claim part of that credit herself.
Caring not at all what a housekeeper thought of her, Sarah called out Erica's name loudly as she made her way down the hall. When she reached her bedroom, she threw open the door in the same instant she knocked upon it. "Have you seen this?" she cried out, waving the latest edition of the paper.
Erica had heard Sarah's approach, as indeed she
thought half the neighborhood must have. Since she knew it had to be obvious she had just awakened, she thought the young woman's question ridiculous. "I have just this minute opened my eyes, Sarah. What's wrong?" Her first thought was of Vij^er, but she had never mentioned his name to Mark's sister, although she susjjected from the curious way Sarah regarded her at times that she knew all about him.
Having no idea she might not be as welcome in Erica's bedroom as she believed herself to be, Sarah assumed a comfortable perch on the foot of the four-poster bed. "The casualty lists from Fredericksburg go on for pages and pages, but there's no mention of Mark's company, and I am so dreadfully worried about him. We are very close, and I have this horrible feeling that he's been hurt. You've not heard anything from him, have you?"
"Not this week," Erica admitted, but Mark had written to her quite faithfully since his return to the war, so she expected to hear from him a^ain soon. She could see Sarah was upset, but she wasn't in the least bit apprehensive herself. Since she didn't know what to say to ease her caller's mind, she chose instead to try and distract her. "You know it always takes several days, if not weeks, for the casualty lists to be complete, but it's highly unlikely anything happened to Mark. Why don't you stay and have breakfast with me? Mrs. Ferguson always has something special for me, and it would be a treat to have your company to share it."
Exasperated that Erica seemed so unconcerned about her brother's welfare, rather than accept her invitation, Sarah lashed out at her angrily, "What you really mean is that you don't carel There's no point in your pretending with me another minute. Mark told me about your Indian. He's off the hook now, isn't he? I'll bet you're hoping something does happen to Mark so you can run off with that savage again I"
Stunned by that insulting accusation, since she did indeed have every intention of returning to Viper, Erica simply stared at her uninvited guest for a long moment before she found the words to resF)ond. "I would never, ever, want to see Mark hurt. How can you pKDSsibly even imagine such an awful thing, let alone accuse me of it?"
Erica's manner and expression were so undeniably sincere that Sarah knew instantly her fears for her brother had influenced her to speak unwisely, and she burst into tears. "I am so frightened. Erica. I just know something awful has happened to Mark. I just know it."
Erica pushed her covers aside and reached for her pink silk dressing gown before going to the distrau^t young woman's side. She put her arm around Sarah's shoulders as she offered her what comfort she could. "You musm't carry on so, Sarah. I'm sure Mark would lau^h if he knew you were crying when you've no reason to believe he's been hurt. If you'll give me just a moment to dress, I'll join you in the breakfast room. You're always telling me I should get out more often. Why don't we plan to do something together today? We could go shopping, or perhaps pay a few calls. Whatever you'd like to do would be fme with me.
Listening to Erica's calm reassurances, Sarah became even more embarrassed that she had gone to pieces with fear for her brother when she had only unconfirmed suspicions rather than evidence that he had come to harm. Determined to take firmer control of her emotions, she brushed away her tears. With a carefully projected nonchalance she picked up the now wrinkled newspaper and moved off the bed. She had as exquisite a wardrobe as Erica again possessed, and she shook out the billowing skirt of a flattering gown of rich autumn gold and slowly crossed to the door. "I could use a cup of tea, I suppose," she admitted rather shyly. "I'm sorry for what I said about the Indian. Mark made me swear I'd never breathe a word of that story to anyone, least of all you. Will you forgive me?"
"There is nothing to forgive," Erica insisted warmly, the optimism of her mood undiminished by their brief confrontation. Since Viper's life had been spared, she couldn't believe Mark would come to any harm. "I'll be with you in just a few minutes."
"Take your time. I'll read the rest of the |>aper while I'm waiting." Sarah slipped out the door, and with a few loud sniffles, was on her way downstairs.
Erica cbessed hurriedly in a gown of slate gray elaborately trimmed with black velvet braid, then tried to
be pleasant as she sipped her tea. She nibbled upon the flaky apple pastries Mrs. Ferguson had baked that morning, but as usual she had little appetite so early in the day. Now that Sarah had actually been bold enough to mention Viper, the Indian's presence in her life seemed imfXDssible to ignore, and yet Erica remained discreet and was not even tempted to reier to him. It made conversation difficult, since Sarah was extremely curious about him, and Erica was equally reluct2mt to divulge any of her secrets. Despite the stilted nature of their discussion, they had just decided to visit the shops when Mrs. Ferguson returned from answering a knock at the front door carrying a telegram for Erica upon a small silver tray.
"Oh my God!" Sarah shrieked, her face going deathly pale. "It's about Mark, isn't it? Well, isn't it?"
While Erica was as greatly alarmed as her guest, she took care not to rip the envelope as she slit it open and withdrew the brief message. While the wound in her right palm had healed without leaving too horrible a scar, her hand was often sore and stiff in the mornings. Trembling as badly as she was now, it made grasping the paper tightly almost impossible. She read the wire through twice before glancing up at Sarah.
"It's from my father." Badly sh2iken, she hid her anxiety for Sarah's sake. "He says Mark is at the hospital where he's assigned and we should come right away. Is your carriage outside?"
Her most terrifying suspicions confirmed, Sarah leaped to her feet. "Of course, but it's more than one hundred miles to Washington!"
"Yes, I know that, and the sooner we leave the sooner we'll be there. I'll go upstairs and gather a few things, then we'll stop by your house so you can pack. With any luck, we'll be able to bring Mark back with us. He can recuperate here as well as he can in any hospital."
"Recuperate?" Sarah whispered hoarsely, her brown eyes wide with fear.
"Yes," Erica insisted, refusing to believe the worst as Sarah obviously did. "We can make plans on the way."
When she reached her room, Erica hastily folded three of her new gowns, and placed them in a leather satchel. She added a nightgown, a change of lingerie, tossed in her
toilet articles, and after adding a substantial amount of cash, considered herself ready to def>art. Returning to the first floor, she asked Anna Ferguson to send her father a wire so he would be expecting them, then kissed her goodbye. She grabbed her cloak, took S2irah by the hani and was out of the house within twenty minutes of having received her father's wire. At the Randall home, she rushed Sarah with her packing and enlisted the service of not only their driver, but also a young groom. While she doubted two women would be molested on the highway when the war had created so much traffic. Erica thought having an extra man along would prove useful if Maik needed help to walk.
They traveled only as far as Elkton, Maryland their first night, but the next day they were up before dawn and covered half the distance to Baltimore. The third night they stopped at an inn outside that bustling town on the Chesapeake. In another day and a half they reached Washington, D.C. Despite the fact that she was eight years younger than Sarah, as they entered the hospital Erica was still very much in chargjje of their mission, as indeed she had been of the whole trip. She walked up to the nurse at the front desk in a businesslike tone asked where a doctor by the name of Lars Hanson might be found.
The nurse needed only one glance at the remarkable blue of Erica's eyes to correctly guess she must be Lars's daughter. She quickly sent for him and he appeared at the desk almost immediately. He was embarrassed that he had not been home or written since Erica's return from Minnesota, but he had simply not known what to say to her. She had always been tar more headstrong than her dear mother, but that she had chosen to live openly with an Indian brave was not something he could excuse as easily as Mark had. It seemed to him to have been a totally immoral and unprincipled thing for her to do, but the instant he saw his daughter his shame at her scandalous behavior was instantly Forgotten. He swept her off her feet in a boisterous hug, then noticing she was not alone, he set her down gently and smiled as he greeted Sarah.
"Miss Randall, isn't it?" he asked in his most charming manner. He thought she resembled Mark slightly, but her features were far more delicate than her brother's, making
her a very attractive young woman.
Sarah stared up at Lars a moment too long, then blushed deeply, but she had never met Erica's father and had had no idea he was such a young and handsome man. That she would notice such attributes at so inappropriate a time horrified her, however. "How do you do, Dr. Hanson. May we see Mark now?" she asked primly, hoping he had not noticed how boldly she had been staring at him.
"In just a minute." Lars stepjDed between the two women, and taking each by the arm, he escorted them outside to the garden where the afternoon air, while cool, was not bone-chilling. "Mark has been here nearly a week. While his chances for survival grow better each day, he has been severely injured, and I don't want you to have unrealistic hopes for his recovery when there is no way it can be guaranteed."
Erica had frequently heard her father use similar words with relatives of his patients when he wished to soften the impact of his prognosis if the outlook wasn't good. She took a deep breath, then insisted he tell them the truth. "Nothing you can possibly say can be worse than what we imagined on the way. It's been such a long and tiring trip, but if we can see Mark for a few minutes it will be well worth our trouble. Just warn us what to exj^ect."
Lars nodded, thinking his daughter wise to make that request. "I think you better sit down first." He indicated the bench where he and Mark had once stopjjed to talk. He admired his daughter's courage, but he could tell by the way Sarah was shaking with dread and clutching Erica's hand that she was almost totally lacking in that quality herself.
Clearing his throat, he began to describe Mark's condition. "I think an artillery shell must have exploded almost in his face. He suffered a severe head wound as a result. There's no way I can remove all the fragments of the shell from his brain but—" Lars stopped in midsentence as Sarah gave a small cry of alarm and fainted in a graceful heap across Erica's lap. "What did I say?" he asked with a helpless shrug.
"Oh Daddy," Erica scolded. "Sarah has been so upset she would have fainted no matter what you said, but you
might have been a httle more diplomatic. Is there a place she can lie down for a few minutes?"
"Every bed we've got already has someone in it, sweetheart." Moving to her side, he plucked Sarah from the bench and started back toward the hospital with her in his arms. "We'll be lucky to find a vacant chair," he called back over his shoulder.
Erica ran along behind him, if possible more frightened than Sarah because she knew what the wound her father had been describing meant. "Has Mark been conscious at all?" she asked apprehensively.
They entered the back door of the hospital and Lars turned down a dark hallway, which led to the small room he used as his office. He placed Sarah in the chair at the desk and began to rub her wrists. *'A few times, yes, but very briefly. He was coherent, though, and that's a good sign.
"Did he ask for me?" Erica whispered with deepening dread.
"Yes, he did." Leaving Sarah to rest quiedy for a moment, Lars turned to face his daughter. He pulled her into his arms for another warm embrace, then began to apologize. "I've done all I can for him, baby, and it's precious little, I'm afraid. A head wound this severe mi^t affect not only his memory, but his ability to think, as well. His hearing may be impaired, and while it makes me sick to tell you diis, I'm almost certain he'll be blind."
Erica felt worse than sick at that announcement, but still grasped for any hope he could offer. "But you're not positive?"
"Well no, I'm not absolutely positive about anything as yet. Right now, I 'm just trying to keep him alive. There are four days until Christmas. If he's still with us then, I think the worst will be over, but there's a good chance he'll never be really well again."
Erica sighed sadly as she rested in her father's arms. She had had time on the journey to Washington to become resigned to the fact that her own plans would have to be postponed indefinitely. At nearly two months her pregnancy didn't show at all, but she knew it would only be a matter of weeks before it did. If Mark were still seriously ill then, she feared it would be extremely difficult for him to