greeting from a mother she'd never known.
Noma swelled with pride. 'Everything's just as it was when your mother left. I even washed a few of her dresses and hung them up for you, thinking you'd be showin' up with no clothes.'
Perry touched a porcelain statue of a cat and thought of Molly. 'I was very lucky to meet a nice lady.' Then, remembering her grandfather, she asked, 'Noma tell me, was my grandfather really glad to hear I was coming?'
'He seemed happy, Miz Perry. Only he do drink. I worry about where his mind goes from time to time.' Noma shook her head. 'He's more in the past than in the here-'n-now.'
Noma sat down on a midnight-blue velvet-covered stool in front of a beautifully carved triple-mirrored dressing table. 'The other blackies told me that after your mother left, your grandfather had this room locked. He had it opened when he heard you were coming. Old James told me hisself your mom went over that very balcony the night she ran away with your father.'
'I never knew Mother ran away. That does sound romantic.' As she spoke, Perry moved through French doors to a tiny balcony. She looked out over an overgrown, forgotten garden as she continued, 'That might explain why Papa and Grandfather never were friendly.' She thought of the time she'd seen the two men together and could never remember either of them speaking directly to the other.
Perry's mood lightened suddenly. She was safe and the war was over. She ran back to Noma and placed a protective arm around the old woman's shoulder. 'Tell me, what happened to you after you left the barn?'
Noma stared at their triple reflections in the mirrors in front of her. 'I hadn't gone a mile when I saw bluecoats everwhere. I hid out in the woods for two days before they caught me. I was plum figuring myself for coyote meat when this captain appeared. He questioned me pretty hard at first, till he learned I was from Ravenwood. Then he got real nice and said he was worried about-you. He said his folks were from around here and he'd find you and see that you were taken care of.'
Turning her face to the windows, Perry answered, 'He found me, but I'd already made plans to come back.'
Noma wiped her eyes on her apron. 'I were so worried.'
Perry smiled kindly at Noma. Worry had aged the old woman in the short time they'd been apart. Having raised Perry, Noma felt responsible for her, as if Perry were a child. But Perry was no longer a child, and now she fought resentment for being thought of as such. Noma's mothering had almost cost her her life. Perry made a mental note to be more careful about what she shared with Noma in the future. As they talked, Perry told Noma little of her travels. The people she'd met and grown to love these past days would remain in her memory and her dreams.
The weeks settled into a pleasant routine. Perry and Noma spent most of their days cleaning and airing out the house. James and his wife, Sarah, who served as cook, were the only servants. All the others had run away during the war. James and Sarah were too old to change. They'd spent a lifetime at Three Oaks. It was home to them. The elderly black couple drew great pleasure from telling Perry all they knew of the history of the place.
In the afternoons Perry sat in the cool, overgrown garden and wrote letters to Molly. After the horrors of the war it was pleasant to relax while waiting for Andrew to return. Rumors circulated that many prisoners were still being held.
As the days grew warmer and life slowed to a crawl, Perry spent more time in the garden dreaming of Hunter and what might have been. She couldn't explain why, but even when talking with Noma she held back all information of Hunter and Abram.
Every evening Perry dressed for dinner in one of her mother's gowns and dined with her grandfather. The huge dining room had long windows facing the front of the house. She would watch the oak trees swaying gently in the summer breeze as her grandfather called her by her mother's name. He always called her Allison when he had been drinking heavily. On the evening they received news of Lincoln's murder, he drank almost all night. He was a man haunted by grief, looking for reasons to destroy what remained of his sanity. Perry, not knowing how to help, followed the example of all the others in the house-she ignored his drinking.
Slowly, as the days turned into weeks, a restlessness grew inside her. She'd stand each evening on her tiny balcony watching the sun splash light along the horizon. The warm breeze would twist invisible fingers through her hair, reminding her of the way Hunter had touched her. The longing to see him, to hear his name said aloud, became a physical yearning inside Perry. She knew her feelings toward him were hopeless, but she couldn't stop them from seeping into her thoughts and dreams.
She decided impulsively to pay the Williamses a call. After studying a map in the library she discovered she could travel on horseback and reach their home in half the time a wagon could travel. The trail was overgrown, according to James, but shady. By leaving before noon she'd reach the Williamses by three, if she traveled fast. Perry loved riding and had often spent all day on horseback, so she accepted the ride as a challenge instead of an ordeal.
'I'll be back by seven and have plenty of time to dress for dinner,' she told Noma. Though Noma was not happy with the idea of Perry riding so far alone, she could not ride well enough to go with her.
Like most Southerners, Perry and her grandfather dined late in warm weather. In this way they could enjoy an evening breeze. Perry knew he wouldn't expect her down for dinner until eight or after.
Perry needed the exercise. Her body was well and strong, but for the last several nights she'd been unable to sleep. No matter how hard she pushed Hunter from her mind in the day, he returned at night. The memory of her lips touching his caused her many sleepless hours. Sometimes in the darkness she could feel his arms around her, his hand sliding up her leg, his deep voice whispering his pleasure as he touched her. Even when she finally fell asleep, sometimes she'd awaken with a start, ready to swear that she'd heard him calling for her. But the only sounds would be Noma's snoring from the room beside hers.
She felt a touch of guilt in realizing that the only reason she wanted to visit the Williamses was in the hope of learning something of Hunter.
Perry rode along the overgrown path, loving the wind in her hair and the feeling of being free. The dark green of summer cooled her mind. Her problems were pushed aside by the thunder of hooves beneath her. If Hunter were married, then he must forever remain only a part of her dreams. She must give him up. But if for some reason he was still unmarried, an island of hope remained in the sea of problems that separated them.
Just before three, Perry rode up to the house of John and Mary Williams. It wasn't a plantation house, as she'd expected, but a small two-story home set among a cluster of trees. Perry guessed the home had three, maybe four, bedrooms. She could see a small stream running to the left with a garden in midsummer growth beside it. The nouse looked warm and inviting, tne kind ot place Hunter, as a boy, must have loved visiting.
Mary and John greeted her as old friends. They were delighted to have Perry for company. Mary brought lemonade out on the porch and the three sat talking for almost an hour before they were interrupted.
A lone man on a huge black stallion approached from the road. He wore a dark blue uniform and his boots were shiny and oil-bright in the sun. As he moved along, the metal on his jacket twinkled, blocking his face from sight. Perry felt her body stiffen as she watched the lean horseman. It may have been dark when she had first met him, but she could never forget his wiry manner or the evil that no amount of sunlight could burn away from Wade Williams. Today his blue uniform was crisp, and he smiled broadly as he stepped down from his horse.
'Good afternoon, Uncle John, Aunt Mary. May I join your party?' Wade's smile never touched his eyes.
His step was light and casual, but Perry could feel him watching her, studying her with the same idle curiosity a boy shows an ant before he tramples it.
'Certainly, Wade,' Mary said, standing to pour him some lemonade. 'May I introduce our friend, Perry McLain. Oh, I forgot, Perry told us she met you once before.'
Wade's eyebrow raised with an evil curve. 'I'm sure I would have remembered such a great beauty as Miss McLain,' he said questioningly, the professed innocence of his lie a slap to Perry.
Wade lifted her hand to his lips as Perry fought the urge to reach for his gun. 'It w-was at a party in Philadelphia some time ago,' she said stammering.
'Ah, I've attended many parties in Philadelphia,' Wade replied, nodding his head at his uncle, as if bragging, 'Do you live near my aunt and uncle, Miss McLain?'
'Yes,' Perry whispered. 'I'm staying with my grandfather on his plantation.'
Perry said little the remainder of the hour. She was aware of Wade's eyes watching her constantly. He asked
