Royce Wardell let himself in through the front door of his small house in the French Quarter. A single lamp, left lit by Isabel his housekeeper, sat on the table in the foyer. Otherwise, the dwelling was in darkness. He picked up the lamp and started for the stairs.
In the bedroom, he made a small fire in the fireplace before exchanging his expensively-cut business suit for a rather frayed dressing gown. Pouring himself a brandy from the decanter that stood on the table, he went out onto the balcony and sat down.
It had been a profitable day, he reflected. His business had tripled in the last few years. He was, in fact, a wealthy man, well-respected by his fellows. His name counted for something in the business world.
It was his personal life that was so empty. He closed his eyes and sipped the brandy, trying to bring Catherine�s face into his mind�s eye. This was their time together, the late evenings spent in the seclusion of the tiny balcony. Had it been sixteen years since he�d seen her last? Since he�d held her in his arms and vowed his undying love and devotion? Promised her that, when the war was over, they�d make a new life for themselves somewhere? Had it been so long?
It had been, he thought, a lifetime. Her tragic death just hours after their last embrace haunted him still. And the five years he�d spent trying to avenge her haunted him. Sometimes he woke screaming in the night, drenched with sweat, remembering those terrible days, days in which he�d come close to losing his very soul.
He shook his head. Those were not the days he wanted to remember, but rather the years with Catherine. They�d moved from frontier post to frontier post, and he�d been promoted regularly, which meant better living quarters. But wherever they were, she�d made it home. In those days, he�d returned from his day�s labors to cheerful lamplight and the mouth-watering aroma of their simple dinner.
She�d take his uniform jacket and hang it up neatly, ready for the next day, and then she�d put her arms around him, and they�d just hold each other for a long, perfect moment. Sometimes, after they ate, they�d take a walk around the post if the weather was good. If not, they�d sit in front of the fire where he�d smoke his pipe, and she�d sew, and they�d talk about their individual days. Afterwards, they�d fall asleep together in the center of the bed. He could still remember how she slept with one slender arm draped across his chest.
Those days had ended with the coming of the war and the South�s secession. She�d understood what he had to do�resign his commission and put on Confederate gray. His home was Tennessee. His family was there. She�d begged him to take her to stay with his mother, but he�d insisted that she return to her own family in New York. �You�ll be safer there,� he told her. �I want you to be safe.�
In the end, she hadn�t been safe at all. She�d come South to nurse him when he�d been wounded, and on her way back, a band of deserters had caught her and. . . He didn�t want to think about that. He couldn�t think about that. And yet, he was responsible. Her brother had said that he killed her, and perhaps he had. How many times had he wished that he�d died instead?
He finished his brandy and went back into the bedroom. Picking up the small frame from the table beside the bed, he gazed at the sweet face in the faded picture. They had been so in love, so satisfied with their lives together. He brought the picture to his lips. �Goodnight, my dearest love. Goodnight.�
***********
�Royce, you�ve been in a grand funk for days. Can I help?� Rand Vandemere, Royce�s young associate, draped himself on the corner of Royce�s desk and folded his arms.
�I�m sorry.� The older man frowned.
�No need to be sorry. You�re entitled.�
Royce laughed mirthlessly. �Am I?�
�Everyone is once in awhile. I�ll be glad to listen if you want to talk.�
Royce leaned back in his leather chair. �It�s nothing specific, Rand. I suppose I�m restless, that�s all.�
�You haven�t been out of New Orleans in two years.�
�There�s no place to go.�
�You could visit your brothers and their families in Tennessee.�
�I suppose I could.�
�Why don�t you take some time off? I can handle things here, and there�s always the telegraph if I have to make any major decisions.�
�I�m not sure I want to go to Tennessee�not now anyway.�
�Well, then, why don�t you go to San Francisco? Check on things out there.�
�Forbes has things well in hand, don�t you think?�
�I�m confident that he does, but there�s a stockholders� meeting next month.�
�Forbes can vote my proxy.�
�Yes, but that�s as good excuse as any.�
�California is half a continent away.�
�You might enjoy the trip.�
�I might. I�ll think about it anyway.�
Rand�s lanky frame came upright. �Do, Royce. Meanwhile, come to dinner tomorrow with my parents. They�ve been asking about you.�
Royce nodded. �Of course. It�s been awhile since I saw them. Thank you for the invitation.�
When Rand had gone, Royce turned his chair so that he could look out the window. The docks were bustling. Cargo was being loaded into some ships and off-loaded from others. Sweating men strained against ropes and shouted to each other. Sometimes, toward the end of the day, a woman in fancy dress strolled by invitingly.
But at night, all activity ceased. Only the rats inhabited the wooden wharves, scurrying surreptitiously from crate to barrel to bale. The emptiness was both eerie and oddly peaceful.
Royce closed his eyes. This had been his world for ten years. It had offered him a refuge from the war that continued in his soul long after Appomattox had faded into history. It was safe. Oh, there had been one or two trips back to Tennessee to visit his remaining family�two brothers, their wives and grown children and grandchildren. But he�d always returned here where he could take care of business by day and dream of Catherine by night.
He had no wish to leave, and yet�yet he was possessed by a restlessness he couldn�t explain. Would he find surcease for that in California? He doubted it. The turmoil in his soul lingered just beneath the surface, trying to break through at the least lapse in vigilance. It would be with him forever. He knew that. Catherine was gone, and her family held him responsible. Perhaps he was. Perhaps. . .
***********
�Sorry, Mr. Wardell, but we�re going to be overnight in Stockton. There�s some trouble on the rail switch between there and San Francisco.� The conductor�s apologetic voice startled Royce from a light doze.
Royce frowned. The trip had been long, and he had been thinking of a long soak in a tub of hot water and a soft bed. �I suppose it can�t be helped. Is there a decent hotel in Stockton?�
�Oh, yes, sir, a couple of them actually. You might try the Spur first. There�s a restaurant downstairs. Serves pretty good food.�
�Thank you, I will.�
�Do you want your trunk or. . .�
�No, if the train will be here overnight, I�ll just take my valise. What time tomorrow. . .�
�Not before noon, or so they say.�
�Well, it can�t be helped,� he repeated.
The Spur was in the middle of Main Street. An imposing bronze figure of a man on a horse took up a rather large space nearby. Royce paused to read the inscription:
Thomas Barkley
1821-1875
He laid down his life in the fight for justice.
The name was vaguely familiar, but he couldn�t remember now just why. Turning away, he entered the hotel and walked to the desk. �I�d like a room.�
�How long will you be staying, sir?�
�Just the one night. I was on the train. . .�
�Oh, yes, I heard about that. We�re filling up �cause o�that.�
�And I�d like a bath.�
�The clerk chuckled. �I�ll send up some hot water as soon as I can.� He handed Royce a pen. �If you�ll just sign. . .�
Royce scrawled his name impatiently and held out his hand for the key. �Thank you.�
�It�s a nice room�right on the front. And I won�t forget the hot water.�
Bathed, shaved, and changed into fresh clothes, Royce descended the stairs in a considerably better frame of mind than he�d gone up in. The adjoining restaurant wasn�t quite full, and a young woman showed him to a small table in the corner and handed him a menu. �The steak�s always good,� she said pleasantly. �We get all our beef from the Barkleys.�
His head came up �Barkleys? As in the man in the statue?�
�That�s right�Mr. Barkley settled the Valley.�
�What happened to him?�
�He was killed by the railroad men about five years ago. They were trying to take back land that had been sold in good faith. . .� She nodded at a large table in the center of the room. �Those are his sons there.�
Royce glanced at the three men she indicated. �I suppose they�ve carried on then.�
�Oh, sure. The Barkley ranch is the biggest one around and. . .there�s Mrs. Barkley coming in now with her daughter Audra. There�s another boy, too, but he�s away at college.�
Royce found his eyes drawn to the tiny white-haired woman wearing a crimson dress edged at the throat and sleeves with heavy crocheted lace. Though she seemed to be looking past him, he didn�t miss her blue eyes and unlined face. The girl following her was blonde and smiling, showing deep dimples. She looked almost a twin to one of her brothers.
The three brothers rose as the women approached, and one of them seated the older woman, then the younger. All of them seemed in good spirits.
�What�s the occasion?� he asked.
�They�re in town for the dance tonight. Audra does a lot of work for the orphanage�the dance is for that. They�re trying to raise enough money to build a new one.�
�I see.� Royce tore his eyes from the family. �I believe I�ll have the ten-ounce steak, medium rare, and whatever vegetables are fresh. And coffee�black.�
He tried not to look again at the people sitting at the long table, but their laughter drew his attention like a magnet. He noticed how the woman laughed, her head thrown back, a husky sound coming clearly from a slender throat.
His dinner came and, thankfully, took his attention. The Barkley family was still eating when he paid his bill and left. As he passed their table, he caught the woman�s voice. �I�d better not find out the punch has been spiked tonight, Nicholas. This is a family affair, you know.�
�I�d never do anything like that, Mother! You know me!�
�I do know you, and I repeat�this is a family affair!�
Everyone at the table laughed.
As he went upstairs again, he reflected that he hadn�t danced in years. The last time had been at Fort Lynchburg just before he made up his mind to resign his commission. Catherine had insisted they go to the party so that he could have a respite from his weeks of soul-searching and indecision. The vision of her wearing a blue dress she�d made herself came to him. Her jet black hair had a few white strands at the temples, but she�d worn it loose and tied it back with a blue ribbon like a girl. She�d been so beautiful that night. And the atmosphere had helped. He�d made love to her later and then told her he�d made his decision.
He reached the top of the stairs and hesitated. The dance was a public function. He would be a stranger, but his money would be as good as any. Turning around, he went back down and asked the desk clerk where the dance was being held.
�Out the door and turn right. You�ll see the lights in the town hall. Miss Audra�s had all the girls in town decorating for two days.� He laughed. �Just keep walkin��you can�t miss it.�
�What time?�
�Oh, eight o�clock or so. Whenever people start gatherin�.�
**********
Royce was one of the first to arrive and sat alone watching the others come in. The Barkleys arrived together, and the girl�Audra�went straight to the refreshment table and began to rearrange the cups and plates. Her brothers fanned out around the room, each homing in on an attractive young lady. Mrs. Barkley sat down with a group of older women and was immediately drawn into their conversation.
As the evening progressed, Royce noticed that she danced with each of her sons but seemed content to watch the others for the rest of the time. Would she dance with him if he asked? Did he want to dance with her enough to risk the possibility of rejection? Did he really want to dance at all? What would it be like to hold a woman in his arms again?
It took another half an hour to make up his mind. Finally, he rose and crossed the room purposefully. He was still a few feet away when she looked up, and their eyes met and locked. �Would you do me the honor?� he asked.
She didn�t hesitate. �I�d be delighted.� She took his arm, and they walked onto the dance floor just as the piano player struck up.
�I haven�t done this in awhile,� he said. �If I step on your feet. . .�
�It won�t be the first time they�ve been stepped on.� She tipped her head to look up at him.
He towered over her, but he placed one hand lightly on her back, and started off.
They didn�t talk while they danced. Though he knew that he was at a loss for words, he was sure she wasn�t and wondered if she was silent for a reason. The music ended, and he walked her back to where she�d been seated. �I�ve worked up quite a thirst,� she said. �Could I trouble you for a glass of punch?�
�Of course.�
�And you better smell it to be sure which bowl isn�t spiked!� she called after him.
He found her daughter ladling the punch from a large cut-glass bowl. �If this is for my mother, you can tell her that it�s all right.�
He startled, then returned her smile. �Thank you very much. I have a feeling that her disapproval isn�t something I�d want to deal with.�
�It certainly isn�t! I caught my brother Nick and some of his cronies hanging around here awhile ago, but I ran them off, so all�s well.� She handed him two cups. �I�m Audra Barkley, by the way.�
�I�m Royce Wardell.�
�Just passing through?�
�I was on the train that�s waiting for the problem on the rail to San Francisco to be fixed.�
She smiled, showing her deep dimples. �There�s a jar for contributions to the orphanage on your way out.�
He smiled back. �I�ll be sure to find it.�
Mrs. Barkley indicated the chair beside her when he returned. �You met my daughter Audra. I�m Victoria Barkley.�
�I�m Royce Wardell�from New Orleans.�
�That�s a long way from here.�
�Actually, I was on my way to San Francisco and. . .�
�The train had to lay over here for the night. My son told me.�
�Which one?�
�How did you know I had more than one?�
He moved uncomfortably. �I confess to being in the restaurant at the hotel tonight. I saw you with your family.�
�Oh?�
�The waitress told me who you were. I�d seen the statue. . .�
�Tom�s statue. The town put that up a few years back. I don�t think he�d like it, but they wanted to do it.�
�Oh?�
She shrugged. �He wasn�t much for a fuss.�
�I see.�
�My daughter does a great deal of volunteer work with the orphanage since she finished school. This dance was her idea.�
�It�s a nice party.�
�Well, it�s for a good cause anyway. What do you do in New Orleans, Mr. Wardell?�
�I own a shipping firm. I�m supposed to be in San Francisco Tuesday for a meeting with one of the companies we own stock in. I�ve never been there and thought I�d take in the city a bit.�
�It�s an interesting place. My son Jarrod has an office there. He travels quite a bit.�
�What does he do?�
�He�s an attorney. Nick and Heath run the ranch. Gene is away at college.�
�You have quite a large family. They must keep you busy.�
He thought her smile faltered a little. �Not really. Not anymore. They�re all adults now, and. . .� The music began again.
He studied her face. �Would you like to dance again? Or did I do too much damage to your feet the first time?�
She threw back her head and laughed. �Not at all. And I�d love to dance again, Mr. Wardell.�
They danced several times, then wandered outside on the porch. �The town seems quiet,� Royce observed.
�The saloons won�t close down for another few hours. That�s when the streets fill up.�
�After the men have had their fill, eh?�
�That�s right. What is New Orleans like?�
�By night? I really don�t know. I rarely go out except for dinner with friends.�
�Oh?�
�I�m afraid I live a very solitary life. My young associate said I needed to get out of town for awhile. He pronounced my mood a grand funk.�
�All business.�
�I suppose so.�
She leaned on the railing where several horses were tied. �I used to stay so busy that I thought a day wasn�t long enough to take care of everything.�
�When your children were small.�
�Yes.� She sighed. �More and more I�m at loose ends.�
�I wonder then. . .� He stopped.
She turned around to face him. �Yes?�
�I wonder if you�d have dinner with me tomorrow night?�
�I thought you were leaving for San Francisco tomorrow morning.�
�I don�t have to be there until Tuesday.�
�But you were going to take in the city.�
�Perhaps I�ll see Stockton instead.�
They gazed at each other in the light from the hall.
�Then I�d love to have dinner with you.�
Royce caught his breath in surprise.
�You expected me to decline?�
�No, I. . .� He smiled. �Shall we go back inside and enjoy more dancing?�
�Yes, let�s do.� She tucked her hand through his arm. �I haven�t enjoyed myself so much in a long time.�
Epilogue
Katherine Barkley Wardell, exhausted from her first cotillion, entered the house ahead of her parents and flopped down on the second-to-bottom stair, heedless of her billowing white dress.
�I�ve never been so tired in my entire life!�
�I believe you danced every dance,� Royce said, helping Victoria out of her evening wrap.
�You were the belle of the ball,� Victoria said affectionately.
�And you didn�t mind us chaperoning?�
�Of course not, Papa! If you hadn�t been there, we couldn�t have waltzed! You waltz beautifully!�
�Yes, he does.� Victoria sat beside her daughter.
Royce gazed at his wife and daughter with adoration. �You were the two most beautiful ladies there.�
�Thank you, Papa. I felt very beautiful in this dress. It really was too expensive, but. . .�
�But you liked it, and I wanted you to have it.�
Victoria held out her hand, and he joined them on the stairs. �We are completely spoiled, aren�t we, Kate?�
The girl leaned wearily against her mother. �Completely.� She closed her eyes. �You met Papa at a dance, didn�t you?�
�Yes�at a dance in the town hall in Stockton. It was a benefit for the orphanage.�
�And he swept you off your feet?�
�Well, at least I didn�t step on them,� Royce chuckled.
�He did indeed sweep me off my feet. I looked up and saw him coming across the dance floor, and I knew he was going to ask me to dance.�
�You knew, did you?� Royce put his lips against her hair.
�I knew. You walked with purpose�and straight toward me.�
�It had taken me awhile to get up my courage.�
�Why, Papa? Did you think she�d say no?�
�It crossed my mind.�
�How could anyone say no to anyone as handsome as you?�
�I couldn�t have,� Victoria said, cuddling Kate against her and leaning back against her husband. �No, I knew he was going to ask me, and my heart sped up.�
�How romantic,� Kate murmured sleepily.
�It was very romantic,� Victoria continued. �And we danced�and then danced again�and again�and went outside on the porch in the moonlight. . .�
�There was no moon that night,� Royce interjected. �I remember distinctly.�
�Well, perhaps it was the light in your eyes then.�
�Oh, Mother.�
�Perhaps it was�she was the most beautiful creature I�d seen in a very long time. And when I held her in my arms to dance, a light came on in my soul which had been in darkness for a very long time.�
�You saw each other across a crowded room.� Kate inhaled the scent of her mother�s perfume and let her mind drift. �That should be the name of a story�or a song.�
�The only story I�m interested in is called up the stairs and to bed,� Royce said firmly. �I haven�t danced so much in years, and I�m quite done in.�
The three of them went up the stairs arm in arm. �I�ll be in to help you with your dress, Kate,� Victoria said at the landing.
Kate put her arms around her father�s neck. �Thank you for everything, Papa. You�re the best father in the whole world.�
Royce savored her warmth. �You are loved, Kate precious.�
*******
From the journal of Dr. Katherine Barkley Wardell:
A few years after the war, I visited New York City with my daughter Vicky and her husband. They had tickets for a popular new musical on Broadway called �South Pacific�. One of the songs was about two strangers seeing each other �across a crowded room�, and I thought immediately of Mother and Papa. Back in Nashville, I bought the record album and replayed the song almost daily for awhile.
Vicky asked me why I liked it so much, so I told her the story. �And, I saw your father that way, too. He was fourteen, and I was twelve. It was the summer we visited the ranch Papa inherited in Texas.�
�Did you have any idea then that you�d see him again and get married?� she asked.
�No, of course not, but then he turned up on my doorstep six years later on his way to Cuba with Teddy Roosevelt. Later, of course, he returned to Nashville for medical school.�
�And you fell in love.�
�Oh, I think I loved him before that.�
�I wish I�d known him.�
�I wish so, too, but you�re very like him in many ways.�
She put her arms around me. �Your life has been very much like a fairy tale, I think.�
I smiled. �I�ve certainly lived happily ever after.�
When she�d gone, I put on the album again. For a moment I was on the second-to-bottom stair with Mother and Papa, my new white dress spread out around me like a billowing cloud.
Some enchanted evening . . .you may see a stranger. . .you may see a stranger across a crowded room. . .and somehow you know. . .you know even then. . .that somehow you�ll see him again. . .and again. . .