west? I may end up in California and try my luck at the gold fields. I might even
strike it rich..." Clay let the thought drop without
further comment. Wealth was the last thing he was
concerned about right now. He had learned for a fact
that riches didn't bring happiness. All he wanted was
inner peace.
"You'll come back?" Philip desperately needed to
know that Clay would one day return; without that
hope to cling to, his life stretched before him in one
endless sea of pointlessness.
"I'll be back," Clay promised.
"Windown is your home. No matter where you are
or what you're doing, remember that."
"I will."
The moment was a poignant one as their gazes
locked. Philip knew his son was a man now, but he
couldn't stop himself from throwing his arms around him and hugging him. Clay returned the embrace
without reserve, feeling all the love and affection his
father held for him in that one heartfelt moment.
When they moved apart, there was no embarrassment,
only a true depth of caring.
Clay picked up his things then, and they started
from the room. They made their way to the front of the
house without saying anything more.
"You be careful and take care of yourself," Philip
urged as they stepped out onto the wide front porch.
"You, too," Clay replied. They clasped hands one
last time. After a final glance at the house, Clay
descended the stair$ to mount the waiting Raven.
Putting his knees to Raven's sides, he headed off down
the drive, a solitary man.
Philip watched his son ride away, his heart filling
with an acrid bitterness for the woman who was responsible for all their misery.
"Evaline..." he spat. Her name was a curse on his
lips as he silently reviled her. He'd despised her ever
since that fateful day six years before. Evaline-so
selfish, so vicious, so destructive. The pitiful part of it
was, Philip knew she had no idea of the heartbreak
she'd caused her son. The woman was completely
without conscience.
During the last six years, Philip had been tempted to
tell Clay the truth about his mother, but had refrained.
Clay had loved her deeply with a child's devotion, and
he had not wanted to take that last vestige of innocence
from him. As he watched him disappear from sight,
Philip wondered if he'd been wrong in trying to protect
him. Guilt assailed him for keeping his silence, but he
dismissed it. Clay had been bound to find out about
her for himself, and now that he knew the truth too,
neither one of them would ever be hurt by her again.
Righteous anger blossomed in his bitterness, and as
Philip turned back into the house, he knew it was time
to take action. There was no longer any reason to allow Evaline to continue to sully the Cordell name. He
would send word to his attorney in New Orleans and
have him start divorce proceedings immediately. Since
Clay knew the truth, it didn't matter any more. He
didn't have to continue to pretend that there was hope.
He wanted that remaining tie between Evaline and
himself cut as quickly as possible. As Philip sat down at
his desk and began to write the missive to his lawyer, he
felt a lightness of spirit that he hadn't experienced for
years, and he knew instinctively that he was doing the
right thing.
Monterey, California, 1858
With shaking hands, Reina Isabel Alvarez adjusted
the skirts of the long-sleeved, high-necked white dress
she'd just changed into.
"Here, now put this on," her friend, Maria, a petite,
pretty, dark-haired girl, instructed solemnly as she held
out a floor-length garment that was to be worn biblike, front and back over the loose-fitting dress.
Reina did as she was told, slipping the unusual piece
of clothing over her head and feeling as if she'd been
enveloped by a tent when it was in place.
"Here, Reina. This is most important..."
Reina reached for the stiffly starched, waist-length,
black veil that Maria offered. She was about to don the
headpiece when her gaze fell upon the pile of