The Ghost (43 page)

Are you scared going to Paris this time? he asked honestly as he reached out and took her hand. It was hard to go back sometimes. In a way, as much as he wanted to return, he was dreading London.

I'm a little bit scared, she confessed sheepishly.But I won't be gone long. I'm leaving Monday, and I'll be back on Friday. As long as I'm going, I want to see a few friends, do a little shopping.

Are you taking Monique with you? he asked, concerned about both of them. He could see that the trip was going to be a challenge.

She has school, and it's better if she isn't there for this. I don't want her to feel pulled between us. She's staying with a friend from school.

He nodded. I'll call her.

She'd like that, she said, and then they danced for a little bit, and neither of them said anything. He loved holding her in his arms, but didn't dare do more than that, though he would have liked to. But he could still sense she wasn't ready. And he wasn't so sure he was either. A lot of things had gone through his mind in the last few days, a lot of changes, a lot of new ideas, like wanting children, and not being quite as angry at Carole. He wasn't sure he was angry at all anymore. He wished her well. He just wished he had as much in his life as she did. like Sarah and Francois.

They talked about the journals on the way home, and the house, and he wished he could find the plans that Francois had worked on. For him, that would have been really exciting. But the journals were even better. And when they got to Francesca's door, he walked her inside and she paid the sitter. Monique was sound asleep by then, and it was nice being alone with her in the silence.

I'm going to miss you when you're away, he said, and meant it. I like talking to you. He hadn't had a friend in a long time, and lately, she had been one. He didn't know yet what more she would be, but even having someone to talk to was rare and precious.

I'll miss you too, she said softly. I'll call you from Paris. He hoped she would, and she told him where she was staying. It was a small hotel on the Left Bank, and it conjured up dreams for him. And he wished he could go there with her. It would have been so romantic, and he could have supported her when she saw her ex-husband. Like Fran+oois protecting Sarah from Edward. He said as much to her, and they both laughed at the image. You'd make a good knight in shining armor, she said gently, standing very near him.

I think I'm a little rusty, he said, aching to kiss her. But he took her hand and kissed her fingers instead, remembering Francois's gesture. Take care of yourself, he said. He knew it was time to go, before he did something foolish. And as he drove away, she watched him from the window.

He read a little bit of the journals again that night but most of it was about the house, and everything they'd done to it that winter. And he fell asleep dreaming of Francesca.

The next day, he thought of dropping by to see Francesca and Monique, but in the end, he didn't. He took Mrs. Palmer to lunch instead, and had to fight himself not to tell her about the journals. But he wanted to let Francesca finish them before he turned them over. And Gladys Palmer was happy for the attention, and there was plenty to talk about. He wanted to tell her about Carole, and Francesca.

But as the day wore on, all Charlie could think about was Francesca. He called to see if she and Monique could have dinner with him, but they were out all afternoon, they had gone ice-skating, and when he finally reached them they had already eaten. But Francesca sounded touched that he had called her. She was sounding wistful these days, and he suspected she was worried about her trip to Paris in the morning. She was leaving after she dropped Monique off at school, and he offered to take her to the airport but she had already made other arrangements.

I'll call you from Paris, she promised again, and he hoped she meant it. He felt like a kid being abandoned.

Good luck, he said before they hung up, and she thanked him and told him to say hi to Sarah. He wished he could, and that night, as always, he listened but heard nothing.

The week crawled by interminably, and Charlie felt distracted. He tried to do some work, started a painting, read a little more in Sarah's journal, and looked at all the architectural magazines he could lay his hands on. He called Monique a couple of times, but heard nothing from Francesca, until Thursday. And then, finally, she called him.

How did it go?

Great. He's still a jerk, but I made a lot of money. She laughed into the phone, and she sounded terrific. And the little Olympic champion is getting fatter by the minute. Pierre hates fat women.

It serves him right. I hope she weighs three hundred pounds by the next Olympics. She laughed again, but there was something else in her voice, and he couldn't tell what it was. It was morning for him, and afternoon for her. And she was catching the plane to Boston in a few hours. She hadn't been in a rush to call him. Can I pick you up tomorrow, at the airport? he offered, and she hesitated, and then accepted.

That's a long drive for you, isn't it?

I think I can make it. I'll get the coach out and hire a couple of Indian guides. I'll be there on Sunday.

Okay, okay, she said, and then seemed to be in a hurry. I have to pack. I'll see you tomorrow. She was due in at noon, local time, on Friday.

I'll be there, he assured her. And he felt like a kid the next day, as he drove to Boston. What if she never wanted more than to be friends with him? What if she stayed scared forever? ' what if Sarah had never gotten over Edward? ' he was beginning to feel as though he should have been meeting her in buckskins and eagle feathers, and the thought of that amused him.

She went through customs before he could get to her, and it was one o'clock before she came through the gate and saw him. She looked better than ever. She was wearing a bright red coat she'd bought at Dior, and she'd had her hair cut. She looked very French and very striking.

It's great to see you, he said, and walked swiftly beside her and carried her bags to the garage, and as soon as they found his car, they set off toward Deer-field. It was odd to think of how long it had taken Sarah two hundred years before. Four days, as opposed to an hour and ten minutes. And another ten to Shelburne Falls. They chatted easily on the trip, and she said she'd finished the first journal. They talked about it for a while, and she asked him if he'd read any more that week, but he looked at her sheepishly and shook his head. I was too nervous, he admitted.

Why? She seemed surprised, and as he drove, he was honest with her.

I kept thinking about you. I didn't want him to hurt you.

I'm not sure he can anymore, she said as she looked out the window. That's the funny thing. I haven't seen him for a long time, but somehow I kept endowing him with these magic powers to ruin my life. He almost did. But I don't know what happened since the last time I saw him. Something changed that. He's just this very self-centered, not quite so good-looking French guy I used to be in love with. And yes, he hurt me a lot, but I think I'm past it. It really surprised me.

You're free now, he said gently. I think that's what's happened to me with Carole. I haven't seen her, but how involved can you be with a woman who's marrying someone else and having his kid ' and never wanted mine ' it's kind of a losing proposition. That was the difference. They were losers. Pierre and Carol had screwed things up, or maybe they'd just gotten what they wanted and didn't have. But Francesca and Charlie wanted to be winners.

Sarah had won the prize in the end. She had found it all with Fran+oois, once she had the courage to leave Edward. And Francesca nodded in agreement and they both fell silent as he drove her to her house, and helped her with her bags. He looked down at her in the doorway with a question.

When am I going to see you? he asked pointedly and she looked him straight in the eye with a small smile, but said nothing. How about dinner with your daughter tomorrow night? he suggested, not wanting to pounce on her too quickly, although he would have liked to.

She's going to a sleep-over birthday party, Francesca said, feeling slightly nervous.

Can I make you dinner at my house? he asked, and she nodded. It was a little scary. For both of them. But Sarah would be there, at least in spirit. And Charlie kissed her on the cheek then. She was a very different woman now than the one he had first met. She was cautious, hurt, still frightened sometimes, but she was no longer bitter, angry, or destroyed by what had happened. And neither was Charlie. I'll pick you up at seven, he said, and turned to leave and she thanked him for the ride from Boston.

And then he went back to his house, and out of sheer nervousness, he picked up the last of the journals. He had left them comfortably settled in their new house, and Francois had not ridden out with the Army in a long time, but Sarah continued to report on the situation in the West between the Shawnees and the Miamis and the encroaching white settlers. It did nothing but worsen.

And in the summer of 1793, a year after Fran+ooise was born, they had another baby. Another little girl this time, and she came almost as quickly as the last one. And as Charlie read the journals, he realized she had been born right in the bedroom he slept in. They had named her Marie-Ange because Sarah said she looked like an angel.

Sarah was ecstatic with her little family, and with the fact that Francois wasn't riding with the Army, and hadn't in ages. He kept improving on the house, and she recorded all the architectural details in her journals. It made Charlie want to pore over the house again and find every nook and cranny she spoke of. He suspected that most of the details she described would still be there.

She also wrote that Colonel Stockbridge died that same year, and was mourned by all who knew him. And the new commandant was far more ambitious. He was a friend of General Wayne's, who was the new commander of the Western Army, and had already been spending a year drilling troops to go after Little Turtle. But so far, nothing had happened since General St. Clair had retired in disgrace after his crushing defeat the last time.

It was a time for her family, and Sarah sounded peaceful but busy and she wrote less and less often in her journals. It seemed as though she had her hands full with three young children, the farm, and her husband.

But in the fall of 1793, Sarah mentioned with concern that one of the Iroquois, Big Tree, a friend of Fran+oois's had attempted peace talks with the Shawnees again, and been rejected. The problem was that the Shawnees had previously allied themselves with the British, so that when the British were defeated, the American Army felt that the Shawnees in the Ohio territory should disappear with them, relinquishing their land to the settlers. But the Shawnees did not wish to go down in flames with the British, and were now refusing to give up their land, and demanding a fifty-thousand-dollar repayment for it and a ten-thousand-dollar annual annuity, which was out of the question. It was unheard of. And General Wayne was not listening. Not even for a minute.

He continued to train his troops at Fort Washington, and Forts Recovery and Greenville in Ohio, through that winter. Nothing was going to sway him, and everyone agreed by then. Blue Jacket and Little Turtle, their two proudest warriors, had to be defeated. But so far no one had succeeded.

There was talk of a campaign organized by General Wayne in May of 1794, but it never got under way, and Sarah was enormously relieved. She was looking forward to a peaceful summer, and had begun to tease Francois about being a settler, no more the warrior or the Indian brave. He was an old man now, a farmer. And she loved it. At forty-three, she wrote that he was as handsome as ever, and she was glad he was no longer risking his life constantly to ride with the Army. In fact, they were thinking of visiting the Iro-quois that summer, with all three children, since for once, she did not appear to be pregnant. It was the first respite she'd had since she and Fran+oois were married, and even before that. And it was obvious from what she wrote how much she loved her children. But it was equally clear that she adored her husband. Francois was truly the love of her life, and she wanted more than anything to grow old with him, and enjoy their family together. She worried about his being restless at times, but for a man like him, that seemed normal and for the most part he was content living with his family.

But as Charlie read her entry in early July of that year, he could see clearly that her hand was shaking. There had been an attack on a pack train and its escort of a hundred and forty men in Ohio on the thirtieth of June, led by Blue Jacket and Tecumseh, followed by an attack on Fort Recovery by the Ottawas, and within days, the new commandant of the Deerfield garrison had sent a message to Fran+oois. Within a month nearly four thousand men, from the regular Army and militia men from Kentucky, were to go to Fort Recovery to attempt to regulate the problem. It was an enormous number of men, and even Fran+oois had never heard of anything like it. And predictably, General Wayne wanted Fran+oois to go with them. His vast knowledge of Indian tribes, his ability to deal with all but the most hostile braves, was invaluable to them. But Sarah did everything she could to fight it, including beg him not to go, for the sake of their children, and insult him by telling him he was too old to survive it. But all he did was try to reassure her.

With so many men, how can anything happen to me? They will not even find me, he told her gently, keenly aware of his sense of obligation.

That's nonsense, and you know it, she argued. There could be thousands of men killed, and there will be. No one can defeat Blue Jacket, and now he has been joined by Tecumseh. Thanks to all that Fran+oois had explained to her, she had become knowledgeable about these tilings, and Tecumseh was known as the greatest warrior of all. Sarah did not want Fran+oois anywhere near them.

But by late July, Sarah had been defeated. Fran+oois promised her he would never go again, if that was what she wished, but he could not let General Wayne down now, after he had specifically asked for him. And he knew that in truth, he could be useful.