White Dreams (16 page)

By midafternoon, hunger drove the group to sampling various displayed sweets, meat pies and cheeses. As they sat to do so, people passed, some smiling, some not. They all acknowledged Grady; his previous absence seemed well known by many of the most elegantly clad citizens. There came a blur of invitations to dinners and promises of visits. When at last one final couple stopped before them, Star braced herself for the familiar once-over that had been making her self-conscious all day.

It didn’t come. The woman, after being introduced, smiled warmly. “How nice to meet you, Mrs. Cartier.”

The woman’s name was Rachael Browning, and as the two men exchanged news, she chatted about her four young children. Renny and Morning Moon ran over to them, Hattie in tow. Zeke, laden with purchases, followed too.

“Why don’t you and the two girls come to lunch on Thursday, Mrs. Cartier? Renny and Emma have been frequent guests for many years. Our parents were old friends of Grady’s own.”

“I’d like that.” And she did look forward to it—as much as she now looked forward to returning home. They all rose and went back into the market proper.

After a while, the sights, sounds and crush of shoppers became too much. The mass of humanity had shoved her forward from one shouting vendor to another. Worse, voices here always seemed insistent, demanding, merging into one. Hands waved items for sale in front of her; young children held out trinkets, shouting prices, striving to be heard.

At last, in a tobacco vendor’s stall, everything blurred.

There were too many colors, too many people. Too much noise. Too many demands.

From inside the stall someone bumped her, knocking her back out into the street. She tried to get back to Grady but felt as though some force was holding her back. Blinking against panic, she stood on tiptoe, desperate to catch Grady’s attention, but he was caught up in purchasing the tobacco she’d picked out to take home with her come summer.

A cold wave slammed into her back. Icy fingers gripped her upper arm. She couldn’t breathe. Glancing down, she saw a hand, its fingers wrapped around her arm, holding her, pulling her away from the crowd. Away from Grady.

She turned her head. Cruel pale blue eyes bored into her. The rest of the man s features were concealed by a thick brown beard. The edges of her vision darkened.

Evil

Darkness.

She heard his voice. “You took what was mine. You’ll be sorry.”

Anger, fury, hatred—she felt them all,
billowing from this man.

Star shook her head in denial as her assailant’s face contorted, turned hideous. He was a monster who watched with satisfaction as she sank into a dark void.

Star woke to a pounding in her head and the frantic calling of her name. Confused, she opened her eyes, blinking against a stabbing shaft of light. At the blinding pain in her head, she moaned. Turning her head, she covered her eyes with her hand and tried to gather her scattered wits.

What was wrong? The last she remembered, she’d been trying to select tobacco for her father. Brief flashes of images returned, then it all came back to her: the blue eyes, the cold fingers gripping her arm and the sense of something horrible, before everything had gone dark. She tried to turn her head but it hurt.

“Star. Thank God you’re all right. You fell and have a nasty bump on the side of your head.”

Fingers tenderly smoothed her hair from her face. Her eyes teared when she removed her hand. Above her, Grady’s face came into focus. The golden-red of his hair haloed around his head in the bright light, and the warm, dusky blue of his eyes soothed her. She relaxed. She was safe. The sound of a shade being drawn came, and the bright light dimmed. She tried to sit, but the movement sent waves of agony through her head.

“Don’t move,” Grady commanded, his lips pinched. “I’ll have you home in just a few minutes—as soon as the others return.”

Star realized they were sitting in his coach, and he had her cradled in his arms. Feeling weak, she did as he ordered, sinking into the warm haven of his chest. Beneath her ear, she heard the throb of his heart pumping. His fingers combed tenderly through her hair and his words rumbled in her ear as he spoke. “I shouldn’t have turned my back on you. You’re not used to the madness that oftentimes prevails at this market.”

Star opened her mouth to tell him that she’d been pushed, grabbed and knocked down, but blazing eyes—cruel eyes full of hate and anger—replaced Grady’s features. Sucking in her breath, she cringed from the imaginary creature who seemed to snake and twist around her mind. She saw no body, but the face alone was enough to frighten her. She’d never seen anything so hideous. She shuddered.

“Grady—” Calling out to him broke the spell.

Grady cupped her face. “Shh. It’s all right.”

Star focused on the gentle caress of his fingers on her skin to combat the pain in her head and the fear in her heart. She’d just had a vision—no—two of them. Tears burned the backs of her eyes.

At the arrival of Hattie, Morning Moon and Renny, Star insisted on sitting. Grady helped her up and Hattie fussed over her. Renny watched, for once silent. But the worry in her daughter’s eyes made Star lean back into Grady’s soothing embrace.

She might be able to hide the effects of the vision from everyone else, but not her daughter.

What had she done? She’d thought to escape the gift of Sight, but since the night before their docking, it had quickly been proven that her attempt to do so had been futile. It had followed her from the land of her birth, a predator stalking its prey. She had been foolish to think that the Spirits could not go where the white man reigned.

As much as she longed to deny it, she couldn’t. Worse, the question of her vision raised its ugly head: who was in danger this time? Herself? Hattie? Both of them? The voice had promised revenge. What did this new enemy want?

Though she’d turned her back on the Spirits, Star suddenly found herself begging them to watch over her. Her and everyone she loved.

Once they reached his house, Grady carried Star into the sitting room, ignoring her protests that she could walk. He needed to hold her, needed that reassurance that she was all right. How quickly things had changed. The day at the market had started with such joy and anticipation. Watching Star absorb the color and flavor of St. Louis had given him such pleasure. The wonder in her had filled him, allowed him to relive it all over again.

But in one instant, everything had changed. One moment she’d been beside him, sniffing tobacco, contemplating which plants she wanted to purchase as gifts for her father when they returned to her people in the summer, and then she was gone. Why had she collapsed like that?

Setting her gently on a dark rose settee with scrolled wooden trim, Grady knelt in front of Star Dreamer, his gaze skimming over her pale features, lingering on her eyes. They were wide and haunted—an expression he remembered well. Only now did he realize how much he’d grown used to seeing humor and an almost childlike excitement and wonder in her soft, dark eyes, such a change from the woman he’d first met. He was terrified to think she might again be sad.

“Just rest. I blame myself for forgetting that you’re not used to the city and such crowded areas.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Grady.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. Her thick black lashes fluttered. Fresh tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. “My family was right. I can’t run from what I am.”

Before he could ask what she meant, the new housekeeper rushed into the room, her small black face wreathed with worry lines. She clasped her hands together. “How about some tea, Mrs. Star?”

Grady smiled at the woman. “Tea sounds wonderful, Hattie. How about bringing some broth as well?”

Hattie hurried out, her voice echoing back into the small room as she ordered Zac and Zeke to hurry and bring the supplies from the carriage. Star smiled weakly. “I have a feeling those poor men will regret coming home with you.”

Relieved to hear the humor in her voice, Grady pulled over a footstool and sat. “Truth to tell, I think they like it. No one has ever cared about them. They’ve been on their own since they were boys. Hattie will earn their loyalty—as you have—because she too cares.”

After a long silence, Star plucked at her skirts. “Emma told me a lot of what to expect from your city and the manners of your people. You do not have a household that is normal for this city or your position, do you? You have a Sioux companion to watch over your daughter, three trappers and a housekeeper whom most would never trust with such responsibility. It will be hard to find a butler who will also accept both Hattie and myself, won’t it?”

Grady rested his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers beneath his smooth chin. “I am fortunate to be surrounded by people I care about and trust with my life, and my daughter’s.” His gaze softened. “I value loyalty and friendship more than the opinion of society. I always have.”

Reaching out, he ran the back of his hand down the side of her face and followed the gentle slope down to her chin. His fingers came away wet from her tears. He longed to find the words to put a smile back in her eyes. “What more can a man ask for?”

Love and a wife.
The words hung between them, though maybe only in his head. Now that he was back where he belonged, it was the next logical step for Grady. Even so, he wasn’t sure what made him think the words. Just because they’d shared a kiss didn’t mean there would ever be more between them. Yet he couldn’t imagine life without her. What would happen if he took her back to her people as they’d planned? Would she choose to remain while he and Renny returned to his home?

He saw her glance down and huddle deeper into the cushions. She curled her feet beneath her and nervously played with her fingers. Making her uncomfortable was the last thing Grady wanted, but he couldn’t deny the truth. He wanted this woman’s love. Only then would his life be complete. The more he thought about it, the more right it felt. But perhaps now wasn’t the time to press his case. He reached forward to grasp one of her hands.

She looked up at him through troubled eyes. “I’m fine, Grady. You don’t need to sit with me. I’m sure you have other things to do.”

“Nothing at the moment.” He hesitated, worried. She’d hit the ground hard. Maybe he should call in a doctor. First, he’d see how she responded to tea and food. And a fire. Though the day was warm, her fingers were like ice.

Standing, he went to the door and called for Jeffers to light a fire. Guilt sat heavily on his shoulder. He paced, unconsciously clasping his hands behind his back.

Star frowned at him, her gaze tracking him from one side of the sitting room to the other. “It wasn’t your fault, Grady. It was—” She broke off.

Grady noted the fear that entered her eyes before she fixed her gaze on an intricate piece of woven hair his wife had fashioned into a wall hanging, framed and hung opposite her.

“It was what?” he prompted.

Troubled, she stared at him. He sat again and waited.

“I don’t think my fall was an accident.”

“What do you mean?” Grady recalled the look of terror in her eyes just before she’d fallen.

“Someone pulled me from the stall, then shoved me.” She didn’t meet his startled gaze.

“Are you sure?”

She looked at him, her eyes full of despair. “I saw him, felt him. His eyes, cold, full of hate. When he touched me, I felt death.”

Stunned, Grady felt a sudden fury. “Who was it? What did he look like?”

Star covered her face with her hands. “I don’t want to remember. I don’t want this to happen. Not again. Please, no more visions.”

Grady moved to sit beside her so he could touch her and lend her his support. “You had a vision? I thought you said—”

“Both,” she interrupted. “Someone grabbed me, then pushed me. The vision was coming, just before I hit my head. Then, in the carriage, it came.”

If only he knew more about her visions; he wished he’d asked more questions of her family and learned what to do when she had these spells.

Star tipped her head back, strained. She looked hopeless. “The visions aren’t going to go away, are they? I left home for nothing.”

Trying to ease her tension so he could find out more, Grady said, “Well, I wouldn’t say that. You’re doing me some good.”

“Judging from the reactions of your peers, I’m not sure. I may be more trouble than help. And now this.” Releasing a long breath of air, Star tried to smile but couldn’t. “In my heart, I’ve always known.”

The deep despair in her voice tore at Grady. If only he could help her. He knew she fought and resented her visions, and after witnessing the effect they had on her, he couldn’t blame her. That brought him back to what had happened earlier. What had she seen at the market? Who had tried to harm her, and why?

“I’d like to help. Even though I’ve never known anyone with your abilities, Star, I can’t deny what I’ve seen with my own eyes. I owe you more than I can ever repay for saving my daughter’s life. I’m a good listener if nothing else,” he invited.

One of the maids came in with tea, a bowl of broth and a plate of sliced bread and cheese. After setting the tray on a marble-topped table, she left quietly, closing the door behind her. Grady poured two cups of tea, added sugar to Star’s, then resumed his place beside her. He handed Star the drink. She cradled the warm cup of tea in her hands, her fingers flexing around the porcelain.

“Drink it. It will help,” he urged. He waited patiently until her cup was empty, then replaced both of their cups on the tray.

“Now tell me what’s going on.” He took her hands in his.

Star’s lips trembled, as if she was not sure how to begin. “Something will happen.”

“
What
will happen?”

Her eyes filled with bleak despair. “I don’t know. It’s too soon. The visions will worsen as the event nears.”

“Go on,” Grady encouraged.

Tightening her grip on his hands, Star’s gaze begged him to believe, to understand, to help her. But could he believe her words? “I saw a monster today. I felt his anger and hatred. I heard his voice. Darkness and death surround him. Someone will die—I have felt that twice now.” Uncontrollable sobs tore through her.

Grady’s heart hammered. His protective instincts rose to the surface. This fragile woman needed him. He would not fail her. Scooping her into his arms, he cradled her close. One hand stroked her arms and back while he murmured softly into her ear. Together, they’d piece this puzzle together. She didn’t have her family to help her get through this—just him. That thought scared him.

Of their own accord, his eyes sought the mantel and Margaret Mary’s portrait. From the angle at which he sat, it looked as though her eyes were watching him. He waited for the stab of guilt, the slice of pain to wash over him. He was embracing another woman in front of her.

But there was nothing. Only regret. Maggie had been young, full of love and laughter. So full of life. They should have raised their family together, grown old together, but fate had decreed otherwise.

He brushed the silky strands of hair from Star’s face, stroking her head and combing her locks through his fingers. He feathered his lips across her forehead and continued to murmur softly to her. When her sobs at last subsided and she lay exhausted in his arms, he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped her face as if she were a small child. She took the linen from him, blew her nose and clutched it to her.

Tenderness welled inside him. “Better?”

“Yes.”

“Liar.” He said the word gently.

“What am I going to do?”

Grady tried to recall the first time he’d met her, how her family had dealt with her when she’d been so distraught about his daughters being in danger. “Do your visions always come true?”

“Yes.”

“Could you change the outcome?”

“Yes. If I learned the meaning in time.” Her voice hiccupped. “My grandmother was able to, at least.”

Grady rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. Her hair had long since lost the pins holding it off her neck. He liked the way it fell, framing her face. “Then you and I will have to figure out what the Spirits are trying to tell you.”

“And if we don’t, someone will die.” She gulped air into her heaving lungs.

At his prompting, she described the man who’d grabbed her and repeated what he’d said. Grady thought it made perfect sense.

“That’s the first clue! It means your visions have to do with Hattie and your intervention in saving her.” That knowledge, while giving him warning, was bad news. It meant Star was now a target. The thought that she was in danger chilled his soul. When he told her, Star did not discount his assumption.

He watched her absently rub her upper arm. Gently, he unbuttoned the cuff at her wrist and shoved the full sleeve up. When he saw finger-sized black bruises marring her honey-brown skin, he felt as though someone had knocked the wind from him.