answer?'
'Not to my way of thinking. Imagine trying to start a new law practice at his age.'
'I doubt he'd have a problem with that,' George said, picturing the ruddy attorney who'd come to the Gulf Coast from County Limerick. George sat on the yard-square chopping block in the large kitchen, his feet dangling six inches above the floor. The cook and her helpers worked and chatted as if the Hazards weren't there. Constance strove to maintain a relaxed household; except for money matters, there were few secrets.
George sipped the cold cider. It had a bite worthy of a saloon. Noting that his preceding remark hadn't reassured his wife, he said, 'He's a tough, adaptable fellow, your father.'
'But he'll be sixty this year. And California isn't safe. In this morning's paper, I read a dispatch about Southerners plotting to set up some kind of second confederacy on the Pacific coast.'
'That's a common rumor these days. One week it's California, the next Chicago.'
'I still say the trip would be too long and hard and dangerous. Father's old and all alone.'
He smiled. 'Not quite. He travels with an eminently dependable guard and companion. I mean that Paterson Colt with the barrel a foot long. I've never seen him without it. Don't you remember when he wore it to our wedding? Furthermore, he's expert at using it.'
Constance wouldn't be soothed. 'I just don't know what I'm going to do.'
George finished the cider and looked earnestly into the blue eyes he loved so well. 'Pardon my impertinence, Mrs. Hazard, but I don't believe you can do anything. I didn't notice a request for permission in that letter. It merely says he's going, and he wrote it on April thirtieth. I expect he's halfway across the Sierras by now.'
'Oh, good Lord — the date. I was too worried to notice it.' She snatched the letter from the chopping block, glanced at the first page, and softly said, 'Oh!' a second time. He jumped down and hugged her to help as she'd helped him. They left the kitchen, going upstairs, where he undressed for his bath.
'I'm sorry if I seemed cross downstairs,' she said while he peeled off sweaty cotton drawers. Naked, he wrapped his arms around her again.
'Not cross. Understandably concerned. I'm afraid I was sarcastic with you. I apologize.'
'We're even.' She locked her hands behind his head and gave him a kiss. They held motionless for ten seconds, comfort flowing from one to the other. Such moments were as close as George ever came to understanding the nature of human love.
He took note of the physical side asserting itself. 'If we keep this up, I won't get a bath.'
She sniffed. 'Which you definitely need.'
With a mock roar, he flung her backward on the bed, tickling her till she gave her usual plea for mercy. He set off for the bathroom, turned back at the door. 'We do have some problems we can do something about. Cameron's invitation, for one.'
'The decision's yours, George. I don't want to be any closer to Stanley and Isabel than necessary. But I know you feel there are more important considerations.'
'I wish I didn't. Congressman Thad Stevens said Cameron would steal a red-hot stove.'
'I have a suggestion. Why don't you go to Washington and talk to some of the Ordnance people? It might help you decide.'
'Splendid idea. I can't do it till we solve the problem of the castings, though.' He thought a moment. 'Do you think I could stand to work near Stanley? I took control of Hazard's away from him, banned his wife from this house — I even hit him once. He hasn't forgotten. And Isabel's vindictive.'
'I know that all too well. You must take all of that into consideration. But if you do accept, I'll follow with the children as soon as I can.'
His nod showed his troubled state of mind as he walked out of sight. She remained seated on the bed. The room was still; the curtains hung straight; the breeze had died. She understood her husband's uncertainty because she shared it. Old beliefs and relationships had been shattered by this crisis the press had already named 'a war of brothers,' even though no major battles had been fought. Just as she worried about her father, George feared for the well-being of his friend Orry and for Madeline, the woman Orry loved. How insignificant and helpless they all seemed; single strokes on some giant's canvas whose final design no one could see.
Discussion of the Cameron offer resumed at supper. Looking refreshed in a clean white shirt, George told Brett that Constance had made a very practical suggestion. He would go to Washington before he made up his mind.
'Will you take me with you?' Brett exclaimed. 'I could see Billy.'
'I can't go immediately.' He explained the reason and watched her bright hope tarnish before his eyes. Guilty, he let his thoughts race. It wasn't ten seconds before he continued. 'But here's another possibility. I have two important contracts that must go to my attorney down there. I suppose I could find some trustworthy older fellow around the office — he could take them. You could go, too.'
'You still won't allow me to go alone?'
'Brett, we disposed of that subject weeks ago.'
'Not to my satisfaction.'
'Don't get angry. You're an intelligent and capable young woman. But Washington's a cesspool. You don't belong there by yourself — even if we disregard your unmistakably Southern speech, which makes you a target for all sorts of hostility. No, this other way's better. I'll find a man and have him ready to go within a day or two. Pack your valise and stand by.'
'Oh, thank you,' she said, rushing around the table to hug him. 'Can you forgive my bad temper? You two have been so kind, but I've seen so little of Billy since we were married —'
'I understand.' He patted her hand. 'Nothing to forgive.'
She kept thanking him, tears in her eyes. It was one of the rare occasions when Constance saw George flustered.
Later, in their play before love-making upstairs, she said: 'Do you really have papers to send to Washington?'
'I'll find some.'
She laughed and kissed him and drew him to her breast with great joy.
15
'This carpetbag's heavier than old Fuss and Feathers.' Billy groaned as he put it down.
'I brought you a lot of little extras I thought you'd need: books, three havelocks I sewed myself, socks, drawers, a new skillet, one of those small sewing kits for soldiers —'
'In the army they're called housewives.' He plucked off his kepi and with his other hand reached back to close the door.
Both kept their voices low, as if wary of listeners. It was three on a sultry afternoon, and they were alone in a room in a boardinghouse. Though they were married, it struck Brett as deliciously wicked.
Stuffy and slope-ceilinged, the small room had but one inadequate window to admit the noise of the unseen street. At that, Billy had been lucky to find any accommodations at all after receiving her telegraph message.
'I've wanted to see you, Brett. See you, love you —' He sounded strange; shy and almost frightened. 'I've wanted it so much I ache.'
'Oh, I know, my darling. I feel the same. But we've never —'
'What?'
Scarlet, she averted her head. He touched her chin.
'What, Brett?'
She didn't dare meet his eyes. Her face burned. 'Before, we've always — made love in the dark.'
'I don't want to wait that long.'
'No, I — don't either.'
He helped with the clothing, rapidly yet without roughness. One by one the layers were shed and tossed anywhere, and there came in the hot gloom that petrifying moment when nothing was concealed, and she knew
