ROSEDALE IN APRIL
Chapter Three
The spring full moon spilled just enough
light for Rose to gingerly find her way towards the hidden gypsy encampment.
Although she knew the secret trail by heart, had traveled it many times over
the years, the great bright globe emitted an enchanting welcoming beacon of
illumination. It had always been so easy to slip out of the mansion into the
night air. The night owls softly hooted as she passed too close; nevertheless,
she determinedly pushed onward. For Rose was never one to be startled or afraid
of God’s creatures...be they tame or wild. The night creatures of the forests
were kindred spirits of a sort, nocturnal, coming alive when the overbearing
sun had set for the evening time. She could just barely detect the distant
strains of the groups’ mesmerizing music drifting from around the glittering
campfires in the far reaches of the murky swamps that nestled deep in the
nearby glade. Occasionally, loud boisterous laughter could be discerned drawing
her tiny bare feet to carry her swiftly and more anxiously forward through the
shadows of darkness. Tonight held such promise…a promise of the truth…a
revelation of her true destiny. She felt it…the time to at last shed its light
on her mysterious past.
He was waiting for her. He knew she’d
come…had been anxiously anticipating her covert arrival. His daughter…and
Sable’s. The two women in his life that he loved the most…and had lost. Never
truly having them, yet loving them just the same. But possessing a person was
never an option for Rafael Bouvier’s free spirited lifestyle. For physical
possession was unnatural to mankind…only spiritual devotion could be deemed as
real. For he always knew that he had been in Sable’s heart…and that was
something Bukater had never had. And then there was his Rose. Even
though Bukater might claim her as his…in truth, Rose was a part of him…and that
was another thing that the vile Confederate Colonel scum could never
truly have.
She burst into the clearing…emerald eyes
dancing in excited merriment and they instantly lit on him. His heart
stopped…and flipped completely over. So beautiful…so loved…so cherished…so much
like Sable…in every possible way!
"Rafael!"
"Rose!"
Both running and colliding in each other’s
arms, Rafael Bouvier swung his daughter around in circles until the moon became
a mere blur of radiant ivory. Squeals of elated joy erupted in both heaving
chests while the entire gypsy encampment sprang to their feet in long awaited
welcome.
"I’ve missed you so much, my Rose! Look
at you…a sight for sore eyes!"
"And I’ve missed all of you, too. Things
are so blasted boring around here without my favorite people in the whole world
to keep me company!"
"Well…come and see Madame India…she’s
been hard to handle all day…claims she has something for you!"
As the two walked arm in arm towards the
wagon that was the home to the old graying woman, they were intermittently
stopped and greeted by various members of the gypsy band. As Rafael perused his
daughter out of the corner of his proud eyes, he sensed a sadness beneath the
surface. She was trying to hide it, but he had always been able to tell when
something was amiss. He assumed it must be the power of their biological
connection somehow. She may have inherited all her fragile physical beauty from
Sable, but the inborn sight came from her gypsy kin. Not only that, but her
wild spirited passion for life was solely Rafael’s trait that Bukater had
always despised and tried to quell. But alas, he could sense that one true
innate characteristic was still alive…dulled for some unexplained reason, but
nonetheless, there hiding just the same. A wild spirit that should never be
tamed…for that was his Rose.
As the two at last approached the brightly
painted wagon, Rafael helped her step up and into the presence of his mother, Madame
India Bouvier.
"Child…come here and let me look at you!
These old eyes have needed to see you for such a long time. Each visit seems to
become fewer and farther between. So rough on this aging old soul! Hmm…but
something is not quite right. Sit down child. Tell ol’ India what’s bothering
that dear heart of yours. You know you can’t hide anything from Rafael or me.
Nothing!"
Rose cocked her head to the side and
affectionately stared in wonder at the sight of the ancient, decrepit woman
that held such a special place in her soul. The woman was considered the
transient village’s fortuneteller…with the amazing ability to read one’s future
in the tarot cards. All respected and honored Madame India Bouvier not only
because of her revered age, but also for her remarkable wisdom. Impulsively,
Rose made a request.
"Madame…would you read my future
tonight?"
"I will, my child…but are you sure
you want to know?"
"No…not really. But tell me this…can you
change my future?"
"Sit down, child…let’s see if there’s anything
that needs changing."
As the cards were slowly laid out, India
hesitantly began to foretell her mysterious haunting predictions. At first, the
cards told of a great love in her life…a love that would withstand and overcome
the tests of time. Abruptly, a look of worried concern passed across India’s
features before she haltingly revealed, "I see a dark man coming
into your life…and very soon, child."
"Oh damn…I thought so…" Rose
suddenly pouted in despair.
"You already know of this
man?" India raised her brows in curiosity.
"Yes…with eyes as black as night…he’s as
evil as Lucifer himself, Madame! Can you see them…those satanic onyx beads
mirroring all that is unholy?"
"No, child…the man I’m seeing has eyes
as blue as moonstones. When I use the term dark, it’s to describe a
particular quality about a person. Not specific physical characteristics!"
"Oh…hell, unfortunately Madame, for once
I believe your cards may be wrong!"
"Whatever do you mean, child?"
"My father…he’s forcing me to
marry a dark, dirty Yankee…and if I don’t, I lose Rosedale; but moreover, he’s
threatening to sell my blood relatives at auction if I refuse!"
"The sorry bastard…" Rafael
menacingly spit out in hatred.
"Child…I do see a northern Yankee
soldier in the cards…but maybe these old eyes are finally fading…I’ve never
been wrong before but I guess there’s a first time for everything. You sure
this man doesn’t have blue eyes?"
"Just wishful hoping, I suppose. But his
eyes are as black as the ace of spades! This I am absolutely sure of!"
Rose dejectedly declared and depressingly sighed.
"Don’t give up hope, Rose, dear. Never
let go of your dreams. Remember that when times get tough and seem unbearable. Courage
in the face of adversity. The best advice I can give you. Never show your
fear to anyone. To show weakness is to show cowardice. Although you may be
quaking to the ends of your pretty little toes, stand proud and never let your
spirit waver. Never show your vulnerabilities to your enemy. Go now…dance and
make merry…I think I need to rest awhile."
"Madame India…I believe this bloody war
would be over in a flash if there were more soldiers fighting with your zest
for life and honor!"
Waving her wrinkled, gnarled hand in humility
and embarrassment, India mysteriously prompted, "And Rafael?"
"Yes, Mama?"
"It’s time you know."
"Yes, Mother. I know." And with
that, Rafael bent down to place a tender kiss on her old weathered cheek.
"Good night, Mama."
Rose hugged Madame India’s neck and
whispered, "I pray you’re right, Madame. I need a savior right now!"
Later that night, after much dancing and
merriment, Rose sat down next to Rafael at the crackling fire and inquisitively
looked at his dark handsome features. A gentle, cool night breeze rustled the
new leaves in the trees as if they were whispering a treasured secret to the
thick grove of woods.
"Are you the dark man Madame
spoke of tonight, Rafael?"
"Perhaps, Rose, yet I seriously doubt
it. But I think it’s time that I give you something." Reaching around his
neck, Rafael unhooked the clasp that held a gold exquisite St. Mary’s medallion
and chain to gingerly fasten it around his daughter’s neck.
"Rafael, it’s Mama’s. I haven’t seen it
since…"
"I know, Rose…the tragic day of her
death. She gave it to me that evening to hold and keep for you one day. She
said I would know the right time…to return it to…our daughter."
The stunned surprise on Rose’s face suddenly
turned to dawning…acceptance…and extreme relief. Tears of joy sprang to her
emerald green eyes and impulsively she threw her arms around his neck and
cried. She sobbed happy tears then sorrowful tears. Tears of what if and tears
of what could have been…but mostly, heart wrenching tears for what should have
been.
"Now stop the tears, my darling. You’re
making your ol’ Papa weep, too. Come, it’s time I told you of the most
beautiful and sad love story of all time. Now dry those tears…for later!"
Staring lovingly up at her father, her true
father of blood, Rose took a deep cleansing breath intent on finally hearing
the truth.
"It was in the springtime, April, the
month of magical dreams…we were just making our annual sojourn to New Orleans
and decided to camp in this very same spot so many years ago. I had aimlessly
wandered down to the lagoon and decided to take a swim and rid myself of
several days of dirt and grime from the trail. And what I saw took my breath
away…for perched upon that huge ancient stone that sits in the middle…you know
of that exact rock, don’t you?"
At Rose’s nod, Rafael Bouvier continued to
reminiscence out loud…
"Your mother was just about your age…and
just as beautiful with the spirit of an angel. As soon as our eyes met, it was
love at first sight. Our lives were never the same after that glorious day.
Remarkably, it never mattered that I was of a lower station in life. She was of
course a highly born aristocrat…but myself a wandering no account gypsy. The
birds always seem to sing just right when we were together. We loved as
two have never loved before or since. And not surprisingly, it wasn’t long
until Sable found out she was with child…you."
"I understand, Papa. Times and
circumstances never change, do they? I mean…mother never had a choice. I
know that. She would lose Rosedale and me if she went with you. My
grandfather and this rigid hypocritical society we abide in kept you two apart.
I know that because…I just know somehow. But it must have been terrible
and lonely for you both."
"Yes, it was. But from our love was born
the most miraculous rare rose of them all."
Breaking into tears, Rose couldn’t hold the
flood back any longer. They sat there embracing as if time had suddenly stood
still. Rafael finally tilted her head back and wiped the streaming tears from
those all too familiar emerald and jade studded orbs to the soul.
"But this changes nothing. I mean…the
Colonel…he can still force me into this damnable marriage. Things are
just the same now as they were then. It’s so unfair! I find out tonight
that I have the father of my heart…but…damn it all to hell, life is just too
intolerable! What will I do…without my spirit? Cal will destroy me in one way
or another! I just…feel it!"
"Rose, look at me. I promise…I’ve never
been able to do anything but love you…but now I can. I will find a way to right
this terrible wrong. With my last dying breath, I swear it! Somehow…some way!
Hold on to your hope. We’ll make it through this. Trust me?"
"I trust you."
Considerably later, after further dancing and
celebration, Marie espied her gorgeous red headed friend sitting alone away
from the revelry in deep contemplative thought. With her chin resting on bent
knees, Rose had a dreamy expression pasted on her face as if she were expecting
her knight in shining armor to charge up on a white horse to rescue her from
her fate at any given moment.
"Rose…I see you have the knowledge of
your legacy at last. How does it feel?"
"Yes, Marie, now I know the truth. Thank
you. I finally know for sure, although I’ve always suspected as much, that it’s
not the Colonel’s blood that runs through these veins. And I am eternally
grateful for that fact. I find myself breathing a sigh of relief on that
account anyway. Come sit down beside me." Clearing her throat in
uneasiness and hesitation, Rose intently stared at Marie. "Marie, I have
some very personal, uh…private matters I need to discuss with you. Can you help
me?"
"Sure, honey. Anything I can do, just
ask."
"Marie, this hellish marriage…let me get
this out…it’s so hard to talk about…but Marie, how is it that you or
your girls never become…you know…with child?"
"Aw, now I see the light…still stubborn
to the hilt. Not that I blame you in the least, sweetie! You don’t want to give
Henley a child…am I right?"
"That’s exactly right. He might
have me as a wife, but that will be my own form of private revenge. He will never
have his heir…if I can do anything to prevent it. Can you help me?"
"I think I might be able to enlighten
you in that particular area, sweetie. Now let’s see. Although there are some
medicinal herbs that Madame India derives from plants, which can be quite
useful, they’re not all the time successful. There are certain risks
involved. But the most important preventative is to know your own body.
The Roman Catholics have been practicing it throughout eternity. What I mean by
that, Rose, is your monthly cycle. Now listen, there are a few days when a
woman’s body is most likely to conceive and it’s up to you to know when that
is. Most all us ladies of the night make it our business to be sure of that
time and that’s when we avoid all male contact. Unless of course, we…well never
mind!" And Marie began chuckling under her breath.
"What Marie? Tell me what this never
mind is…I need to know about these things!"
"Sweetie, there’s ways of pleasing a man
besides…you know…having him inside you."
At Marie’s further explicit instructions,
Rose daintily and furiously blushed to the roots of her copper hair.
"You mean…how disgusting! I could
never do that! I think I’ll just have to plead a headache those
nights!"
Boisterously slapping her hands on her
thighs, Marie cackled and howled in loud laughter until a nearby pack of timber
wolves actually joined in unison.
"What’s so funny?" It was Rafael
curiously grinning at the antics of the comical pair.
"Nothing, Papa. But I guess I better get
back to the house on that bit of advice before I’m found out, Marie. And thank
you…both!" Placing a tender kiss on her father’s cheek, Rose
emotionally declared, "I love you, Papa! See you soon!"
"Godspeed, my daughter, Godspeed!"
Several hundred miles away in Natchez,
Mississippi, the Northern Union Army has over taken the strategically located
town that sits high upon the bluff banks of the mighty Mississippi River and
has made the area their far western headquarters.
At Natchez Down Under the Hill…a shady,
decadent row of taverns and saloons on the lower banks of the great Mississippi
River, numerous groups of Union soldiers were drinking up the Saturday night
well into their cups. It was in one of these noisy, smoke-filled taverns, The
Cock of the Walk, that drunken ribaldry was running its dangerous, foreboding
course.
"Major Henley…so is it true? You really
going to take leave next week to marry some rich, southern society
belle?"
The heavily inebriated and cunning Major
Caledon Henley slowly exhaled the smoke from his expensive cigar and a sly,
cunning leer spread across his dark handsome face.
"I am…to the victor comes the
spoils of war. Besides, my fiancee happens to come with exquisite credentials
and a sinfully delectable body that presents a very decisive bonus."
Lewd laughter erupted around the table as
each soldier held up their ale to toast the Major’s outstanding luck and good
fortune.
"Which is it Major…the money or
the body?" a drunken young soldier bawdily inquired.
"Aw…both my dear boy. Not only
does she come with the largest cotton and sugar cane plantation in the entire
south and closely related to one of our most prominent and respected
military leaders, but also she possesses the rare beauty of Aphrodite herself.
Something haunting and quite mystical about the comely wench that breaths come
hither and taste while setting your entire insides on fire! Next week can’t
come soon enough. It’s been too long since I’ve reaped the rewards from a
beautiful, prominent, alluring seductress and…well…here’s to the prize of the
great Rosedale Plantation…and the treasure that abides within…Miss Rose DeWitt
Bukater!"
"Major, it hasn’t been all that long.
As I recall, there was a very attractive blond lady in Pittsburgh that
you took quite a fancy to and as I remember it, the feeling seemed to be quite
mutual. Every time we were given leave, the Major here, was seen with Miss
Melody Dalton on his arm…and him leaving her premises at such dishonorable
hours of the early morning…and without a proper chaperone either!"
"Was that her name…I seem to have
forgotten. Meggie, Melanie, Melody? They all sound the same in the heat of
passion. Never was one to remember insignificant female names anyway. But alas,
a great little body and lay but absolutely no money to speak of. And what good
is one without the other?"
Loud jeers and sadistic cackles rumbled…
At the next table, an empty whiskey glass
crumbled and cut into the clenching fist of Union Captain Jack Dalton. Blue
moonstone eyes hardened into cold chips of ice. The workings of a clamped jaw
were evident and his rigid self control began to slowly slip…inch by inch.
"Whoa Jackie boy! Not here…you’ll have
your chance real soon." Sergeant Tommy Ryan’s hand shot out to hold back
and harshly warn his best friend and commander in a low voice of deep concern.
Captain Jack Dalton had been Tommy Ryan’s best friend since childhood. And
although the vengeful, murderous rage simmering inside the man was admittedly
well deserved, to settle it now would land them both either facing a court
martial or in a military jail or prison.
For in truth, the late Mellie Dalton
had been Jack’s little sister and the dishonorable topic of lewd conversation
at the next table. Shaking his head in deep sympathy, Tommy began to remember
and recollect the tragic tale of that one’s regretful demise.
Both Jack and Mellie’s parents had been
killed several years back leaving Jack as the sole provider and caregiver of
his only sibling. He loved his sister and whole-heartedly embraced the
responsibility that had fallen upon his shoulders. However, after the War
Between the States had broken out, he and Jack had readily signed up…intent on
fighting for the cause of human freedom. And then, the letter had came. Its
contents revealed a despondent, grieving Mellie that had written and posted a
suicide note to her brother. In her final missive, she had tried to explain her
deplorable actions for taking her own life. She had been madly in love with a
Pittsburgh steel tycoon by the name of Caledon Henley and had found herself
pregnant with his child. Upon confronting Henley with the news, he had
maliciously laughed and scorned her claims…and unable to deal with the harsh
rejection and the dishonor it would bring on the Dalton name…she had deemed her
only honorable alternative was to end it all. Tommy intuitively knew that Jack
blamed himself in a way for enlisting and leaving her alone in the world…but
mostly, Captain Jack Dalton now sought deserved revenge against his worst,
mortal enemy, Major Caledon Henley!
"I’ll meet you outside, Sergeant!"
Captain Jack Dalton loudly scraped his chair back on the wooden pine floor,
intent on getting some much-needed fresh air and to clear his spinning head.
The blood was pounding so loudly in his ears, he could scarcely hear another
sound. Freezing eyes as cold as ice raked the unsuspecting Union Major from
head to toe.
"You’re mine…Henley!" Jack
sinisterly murmured under his breath. "Enjoy your little card game…for
I’ll be waiting for you outside when you least expect it!"
It was several hours later before Major
Caledon Henley finally excused himself from his drunken comrades in arms.
"If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have
a lady or two that anxiously awaits my company on the hill. Adieu, to you
all."
Stepping out into the crisp March night air,
Cal swaggered onto the raised boardwalk stopping for a mere second to get his
drunken bearings. Rounding the corner of a nearby alleyway, a sudden flash of
light exploded. The next conscious thought he was capable of remembering was
extreme excruciating pain ripping through his lower manhood. Immediately, the
coppery scent of blood filled his flared nostrils. Sticky red ooze covered his
crotch as he instinctively clutched his groin in stark terror…and then…total
darkness…
"I’m proud of you Jack. It would have
been so easy to have ended the sorry bastard’s life right here and now. But I
think, this is far worse for our lady’s man here! Won’t Miss Rose DeWitt
Bukater be disappointed?"
Sergeant Ryan lightly slapped Jack on the
back; however, the Captain never moved. He never said anything. Staring down
over the unconscious body of Caledon Henley, Jack viciously spit down in the
man’s face.
"That’s for you Mel! May you rest in
peace, little sister!"
Hurriedly climbing the hill before they could
be found out, Jack turned to Tommy as if relaying an afterthought.
"We’re leaving next week for east Texas.
General Grant has issued direct orders for our regiment to take and hold the
town of Jefferson. We’re to set up headquarters nearby."
"That far west, Jack? But why? There has
been very little fighting in Texas…doesn’t seem to be much of an important
stronghold for the Rebs…and if hearsay is correct, too damn savage for very
many civilized white men!"
"My revenge is not yet over, Tommy. It
seems fateful chance has smiled down on me at last. Seems General Grant himself
has directed that we make camp on the strategic banks of Caddo Lake…at a
plantation there…called Rosedale."
Sergeant Tommy Ryan stopped dead in his
tracks. At that particular instant, a shooting star charged across the ebony
skies of the Mississippi river town. Staring at the malicious sinister grin
that spread across his best friend’s lips brought chills racing up and down his
spine. The hackles rose upon Tommy’s neck at the calculated dark revenge that
seemed to be remarkably ordained by some greater entity. What awaited them in
Texas was more than a mere coincidence…something was about to happen and he
wasn’t so sure he wanted to be there when it did! God have mercy!