Jodi Thomas - Northern Star

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 her direct questions about her grandfather and his plantation. Since Perry knew little, her responses were brief.

John and Wade talked of the many problems of Reconstruction. Both believed North Carolina would be a key state to watch, but they agreed on little else. Though John never raised his voice, his belief that his fellow countrymen had suffered enough was strong. Wade Williams took the side of many Northerners, even though his roots were Southern. He believed each state must pay and pay dearly. Perry knew men like Wade were hated even more than the carpetbaggers. He'd turned against his own kind in his quest for power. Now that the North had won, he wanted more for his Union loyalty.

Perry sat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, trying not to allow Wade's conversation to disturb her. He was like a leech sucking blood from a wounded animal. Finally she could endure no more of the talk. She pulled on her riding gloves with a sudden urgency to be gone.

As Perry stood to say good-bye, Wade rose beside her. "I'll see you on your horse," he said in a voice that sounded a little too much of an order.

"That will not be necessary, Captain Williams," Perry replied, hoping to discourage him. His presence had already destroyed her sunny mood.

"Oh, I insist, Miss McLain. It will be my pleasure." Wade held her elbow and began guiding her off the porch.

Mary stood on the first step. "Perry, would you be able to come to lunch next Saturday?" Her musical voice drew Perry's attention. Mary's eyes smiled hopefully as John's arm moved around her shoulders lovingly.

"I'd be happy to, Mrs. Williams," Perry replied as she moved toward her horse. Perry disliked knowing Wade was only a step behind her. The thought crossed her mind to pull her knife from her skirt pocket and order him to stay back. She almost laughed aloud as she thought of the shock such an action would cause John and Mary.

Without any encouragement Wade followed her to her horse. He gallantly helped her into the saddle. "I look forward to seeing you again." As he spoke, he applied painful pressure to her hand, which was resting on the saddle horn. Perry jerked the horse into motion. She wanted to scream that he would never see her again, but she was afraid the Williamses might still be watching.

Perry rode home at breakneck speed, desperate to get away from his evil presence. Later she tried to convince herself that he was not as evil as she thought, yet her impressions were strong, as was the feeling that she would see him again.

Saturday inevitably arrived, to Perry's distress. She hated the thought of running into Wade at the Williamses'. Yet she knew she must go. She liked John and Mary far too much to hurt their feelings by not keeping a luncheon date. Perry dressed with care for her visit, but the fear of Wade hung like a dark cloud over her morning. She told herself again and again that John would never allow Wade to harm her, yet the memory of their carriage ride together kept flashing into her mind.

She hardly noticed the beauty of the warm day as she rode over the fields. Most of the land had gone wild with neglect. Tall grass and bindweed covered the fields. Summer's heat had choked away most of the wild blooms, leaving the landscape painted in different hues of green and brown. But nature's gentle coloring couldn't relieve the feeling of dread mounting in her.

To Perry's surprise, however, there were no other luncheon guests. She dined alone with John and Mary and had a delightful time. They'd received a letter from Hunter, stating that he planned to visit them soon. Mary showed the letter to Perry as if it were of great value.

"Just imagine, Perry, he'll come in a balloon. Won't it be a sight?" Mary said no less than three times during the meal.