I can’t believe it’s been three weeks already since I got out my last post on Destiny’s Desire. Now Chapters 7 and 8 are available. Now that I have my paid work behind me, I’m working to finish this book so I can upload it to Books by Liz.

My goal is to simply provide an escape in these strange times. Please enjoy the next two chapters. More will come soon.

As always, I rate this book for a more mature audience.

SEVEN

“Trevor!” Astrid exclaimed as she raced into the mercantile store. “I need to talk to you.”

“In a minute,” he said from behind the counter where he was assisting a customer.

“I don’t have a minute,” she insisted. “Where can we talk privately?”

“Wait in the back. I’ll be right with you.”

Astrid hurried down a short hallway and slipped into the storage room. The second she closed the door, fear surged through her. Why? She’d been in that room dozens of times without that kind of reaction. Glancing around, she looked to see if she was alone. No one else was there, and nothing was out of place. Still, something was wrong with the room. It felt ominous, foreboding, like it would come to life and attack her.

Fanchon’s image flashed across her mind. The fear became terror. She wanted to run, but she couldn’tshe was frozen in place. Then there was a stabbing pain in her right breast. And her heart! It was breaking. Unexpected tears streamed from her eyes. When her blurred gaze fell upon the back door, she saw a tall Union soldier, his face set in rage, looming in the doorway. From somewhere in the room a woman screamed.

Behind her, the door banged open. In that instant, the soldier vanished, along with the fear and the pain in her breast. But the heartbreak remained. The tears refused to stop even when Trevor took her into his arms.

“What happened, Astrid?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Throwing her arms around his neck, she burrowed her face on his shoulder. “It must have been awful. It wasn’t at the Rock. It was here, in this very room. I can feel it. No wonder she wouldn’t talk about it. I wouldn’t want to, either.”

“Calm down, honey. You’re not making any sense.”

“I can’t. And you wouldn’t make sense if you went through what I just did, either.”

“Then tell me about it.”

Breaking away from him, Astrid wandered to the dry goods table and sat on it. The second she did, a rush of apprehension swept through her, and she hopped off again. She tried another table, sitting very still for a few moments. There was nothing wrong with that table, so she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Although the apprehension was gone, the tears and heartache remained.

“Do you feel better now?” he asked, grasping her hands in his.

“A little,” she replied. “Fanchon wasn’t attacked at the Rock, Trevor. It happened right here.”

Trevor almost panicked. Had Fanchon told Astrid everything? Impossible! They weren’t that close. To be sure, he questioned Astrid. “Something happened in my storeroom? Is that what she told you?”

“She didn’t tell me anything,” Astrid admitted, “except that she was upset and had been crying by the river.”

“Then why do you think something happened here?”

“I felt it when I came in. We don’t have to tell each other some things. We just know them. Besides, Fanchon said she wasn’t attacked at the Rock. She didn’t say she wasn’t attacked. And I know who did it. I saw his image on the back of the door. It was the same soldier she met by our barn about midnight.”

“A soldier?” Trevor exclaimed. Could it be the soldier he’d tangled with in the storage room? If it was, he could be in serious trouble. Fanchon would probably keep quiet like she had a year earlier, but that soldier wouldn’t.

“I’ve never seen my twin kiss a man like that. Not ever.”

“Why would they be kissing if he attacked her?” Trevor asked.

Baffled by the question, Astrid gazed at him. “I don’t know. Maybe things got better between them. But it was the same soldier. I’m positive. I saw him again this morning, and I got a really good look at him this morning. I asked Fanchon about him when I saw her at Bianca’s, and she was furious that I’d spied on her. She left in a huff, so I followed her to the photographer’s shop. And guess who went in a few minutes later.”

“The soldier,” Trevor inserted.

“And he was whistling like the happiest man in the world. I waited until he came out so I could follow him, too. And where did he lead me? Straight to Bianca’s house. He walked right in the front door, like he was expected. I didn’t want him to see me, so I went in the back. When Bianca saw me, she made me leave.”

“What did you do?”

“I left, of course. I stayed outside for about an hour before he came out, then I came here. What do you think?”

Feigning disinterest, Trevor shrugged. “I’ve never been able to understand Fanchon. Maybe she has a suitor.”

“A very handsome one.”

Battling his anxiety, Trevor envisioned the soldier he’d fought against. That soldier had been handsome, too. But his desperation to learn the truth overruled his caution. The best way to verify his suspicions was to question Astrid. Her love for gossip would surely outweigh her sisterly devotion to her twin. “What did he look like?”

“He’s quite tall–well over six feet–with dark blond hair. And from the way his uniform fit, I’d say he’s a man any woman would love to have hold her. Too bad he has such an ugly bruise on his head. He’s one man I could easily steal away from my sister for a few hours of fun. Our taste in men is identical where he’s concerned.”

No doubt remained. The soldier Astrid described was the same one who had rescued Fanchon, and he was probably stationed at the Rock Island Arsenal barracks. If he was as interested in Fanchon as it sounded, he would probably want revenge, too. Somehow, Trevor realized, he had to divert Astrid’s attention from the topic before she deduced the truth of that evening’s events.

“Come now, Astrid,” he said. Moving her legs apart, Trevor stepped between them while his hand sought out her covered breast. “Don’t I please you anymore?”

“Of course, you do,” She pushed him away, “but not now. If you’ll excuse me, I want to go home and have a good cry.”

***

“Fanchon?” Bianca’s voice filtered through to her consciousness as a hand grasped her shoulder. “Fanchon, are you all right?”

Waking, she rolled onto her back and stared at Bianca’s concerned expression. After a moment to collect herself, she sat up, and hugged her knees with both arms. “I’m fine.”

“First I let you cry, then I let you sleep,” Bianca said, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “Now it’s time to talk.”

“How long was I asleep?” Fanchon asked.

“At least two and a half hours.”

Gazing at her sister, Fanchon swallowed back a renewed lump of sorrow in her throat. Wouldn’t she ever get over Gabe’s departure? “You know what it’s like to have your husband go to war. Does it get easier?”

“As the days pass. Then it’s only the waiting and worrying. And the fear every time there’s a knock on the door.”

“The official military visit, right?”

Bianca nodded. “That was the hardest part for me. That’s why I told family to walk in.”

“I hope I never get a visit. There’s so much I want to learn about Gabe, so much I want him to learn about me. We didn’t have time for courting, and I didn’t even tell him about Astrid. I told him twins run in our family, but not that I am one.”

“There’ll be plenty of time when he comes back.”

“If he comes back.”

“Don’t even think that,” Bianca declared. “It only makes things harder. Besides, you’re the most optimistic person I know. Now’s not the time to change.”

“I’ve never been in love before.” Fanchon paused. She’d never felt so sad in her life, and she didn’t see an end to that distress. “How do I control the heartache, Bianca?”

“You’ll do fine. If it’s any consolation, I know it must be harder on you than it was on me. I had several years with Ben before he had to leave, plus a year of courting. You had less than forty-eight hours. Your love is just blossoming. By the time Gabe gets back, it will be in full bloom. This war can’t last much longer. It’s already been going on for three years. It has to end soon.”

Fanchon offered Bianca a brief, sad smile. “I hope you’re right. I’m tired of sending the men I love off to war just to have them injured. First Ben lost his legs, then Nels was wounded. You don’t know what it’s like dealing with the physical pain those prisoners endure. Every day I envision one of my brothersand now my husbandin the same agony. When are we going to hear the next bad news, Bianca? Is it Pete’s turn? Or Gabe’s?”

Bianca sighed, and Fanchon examined her. She wasn’t in the mood for another of Bianca’s talks. All she wanted to do was go home, hide away in her room, and think about what life could have been like if Gabe hadn’t gone to war. But to Fanchon’s surprise, Bianca said something unexpected.

“Gabe asked me to give you some things tomorrow, but I think I should do it now. I’ll be right back.” Leaving the room for several seconds, Bianca returned and set a pile of items on the bed in front of Fanchon. “Would you like to be alone?”

“Please.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you want to talk.”

Fanchon waited for Bianca to close the door before she set aside the thick envelope and gold pocket watch. Crossing her legs, she toyed with the epaulets on Gabe’s uniform jacket. He looked even more handsome when he wore it–almost regal. She’d been proud of his appearance when she first saw him in his dress uniform, even though she was too nervous to realize it at the time. Holding the jacket against her face, she inhaled. It still smelled of the men’s lotion he’d used after shaving the night before. If only she could find a way to preserve the scent for a more realistic memory of their wedding.

Laying the jacket down again, Fanchon opened the watch and read the inscription in the lid: To my son, Love and God-speed. Pa. How sweet of Gabe to leave such a cherished possession in her safekeeping. After slipping the watch into the jacket pocket, she broke the seal on the envelope and withdrew a thick letter. When she unfolded the paper, she gasped in astonishment. The small, neat writing in the letter took less than a page. What made the packet thick were the sixteen fifty dollar bills that fluttered to her lap!

Dear Mrs. Freeman,

I dread leaving you more than I dread going to war. I want to be with you, protect you, care for you, and provide for you like other husbands. But the best I can do is give you $800. I’ll write Pa and have him send you a monthly allotment of $500.

The watch is for you to give our child if I don’t come home. It’s my legacy to her (or him, if you prefer). The uniform is a reminder for you to trust our destiny.

The pain of parting is agonizing, and I haven’t even left the house. I heard you crying, and it tore my heart to know that I couldn’t comfort you.

If nothing else will soothe the hurt, remember this. I’ll be back as soon as possible.

           Yours forever,

           Gabe

Her tears streamed as she hugged Gabe’s jacket. Her heart ached so much that she felt it would be easier to die. But she would survive for Gabe and their baby. She would overcome the heartache, except at night–when the memory of her one night in his arms would bring back the pain of his absence.

***

Fanchon entered the house with a package tucked under one arm and her satchel in the same hand. In the parlor Astrid, Carl, and their younger sister Elsa played cards while Jane mended a shirt nearby.

“If it isn’t our long-lost daughter,” Carl teased. “You’re working very long hours.”

“A lot of prisoners have died lately,” she said. “One hundred two prisoners died in June. The death toll will probably reach at least seventy by the end of this month.”

“Then how could you have your photograph taken today?” Jane asked.

Shooting Astrid an irate glance, Fanchon collapsed into a wing chair. Now that her twin had gossiped again, she had to think of another lie. What was that saying about lies? Something about how they keep snowballing? Whatever it was, it was true, because hers were running rampant. After a long, weary sigh, Fanchon returned her gaze to her mother. “I already had an appointment, so Dr. Watson let me keep it.”

“Let’s see the picture.”

“See the picture?” Fanchon repeated. Now what should she do? How could she extricate herself from the lies she’d so badly contrived? Her following words were so instinctive that even she didn’t know what would come. “I didn’t have time to wait for the developing process. I told him I’d get it tomorrow.” To hide her tension, she strolled toward the stairs. Lying had never been her most noted accomplishment, and she had to leave before her family realized what she was doing. “I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.”

When Fanchon’s door closed, Carl and Jane gazed at one another in concern as Carl asked, “What do you think she’s hiding this time?

“I don’t know,” Jane replied, “but whatever it is must be important.”

“Maybe it has something to do with a man,” Astrid observed. When her father glanced at her suspiciously, she threw her cards onto the table. Carl always sided with Fanchon, and she was always the outsider. But this time she was right, and she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. “She works with them all day long. All night, too, sometimes.”

“Astrid could be right, Carl. I’ll see if Fanchon wants to talk.”

***

As badly as Fanchon wanted to go through Gabe’s belongings again, it would have to wait. In a few minutes, someone would come to discuss her problem. It happened every time she was upset. When would they learn that she never wanted to talk when she was in a bad mood?

A knock threw Fanchon into a panic. Scanning the room, she saw no safe place to hide Gabe’s possessions. Not knowing what else to do, she slid them under her bed. A moment later the door opened, and Fanchon scrambled to her feet.

Jane entered and closed the door behind her. “May I come in for a few minutes? Astrid suggested something I want to discuss.”

“I’m not interested in Astrid’s suggestions, Mom,” she said. “I’m only interested in sleep.”

“I’ll be quick then.” Jane glanced around the room then returned her gaze to Fanchon. “Where’s the package you brought home? I was going to ask to see what you bought.”

“I didn’t buy anything,” Fanchon replied, “and I already put the package away.”

“Under the bed, no doubt. What are you hiding?”

“Nothing. I don’t like people invading my privacy. You know that.”

“Astrid thinks your problem has to do with a man. Is it the soldier that Hal told me rescued you from an assault?”

Her mouth agape, Fanchon stared at her mother. If she’d been thinking clearly, she would have made her uncle promise not to tell her family about the incident. At the time, though, she was more interested in Gabe’s body.

“I thought so,” Jane said. “Don’t get involved with him just because he came to your rescue, Fanchon. It’s foolhardy and reckless.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about–and neither does Little Miss Gossip.” Her instinct to keep her wedding secret had been right. And to think she’d almost said something when Jane had trod so close to the truth! Having the deception out in the open would have been a relief, but she couldn’t announce her wedding now. Jane would say something to her father, and they would eventually bring it to a family discussion. Then, once again, she would be the focus of controversy. Oh, how she hated being the center of family discord!

Fanchon decided to avoid the inevitable. “He helped me when I needed it, Mom. That’s all.”

But Jane continued as though Fanchon hadn’t spoken. “Any man who takes advantage of your good nature just because he rescued you isn’t worth your attention. It isn’t wise to let gratitude take over the logic you’ve always had, Fanchon, especially where a man is concerned.”

“Major Freeman only escorted me back to Uncle Hal’s house so I wouldn’t be attacked again. I nursed his injuries, then he left. Didn’t Uncle Hal tell you that?”

“He also told me how he found you on his porch.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she raged. “Don’t I have any privacy? Major Freeman explained that to Uncle Hal, too. He was consoling me.”

“A decent man would never put a young lady in a position where gestures can be misconstrued. Hal told me that he wasn’t wearing his shirtand that you were happy in his arms. Ladies don’t do that, no matter how upset they are.”

No longer able to control her anger, Fanchon shouted at her mother. “Then maybe I’m not the lady you think I am! Maybe I’m a street slut who is intimate with any man who looks at me twice. Maybe I’m not a nurse at all. Maybe I only go to the barracks so I can prostitute myself! Maybe I’m a whore!”

“That’s uncalled for, Fanchon,” Carl said from the open doorway. “We’re only trying to protect you.”

“When the hell are you people going to learn that I don’t need protection? I have my own life, and I don’t need you to tell me if I live it right or not.” Unexpected tears of frustration clouded her vision. Oh, no! She was going to cry again. They were accusing her husband of something he would never do, and she couldn’t even protect his name by telling them the truth. If she could, she would open her mouth and blurt it out. But the words were stuck in her heart. It wasn’t fair! Gabe had just left, and she couldn’t even be alone in her sorrow. “Why won’t everybody leave me alone?”

“Go downstairs, dear,” Carl said to his wife. “Let me see if I can make some sense of this.”

“Go with her, Dad,” Fanchon insisted. “I want to be alone.”

While Jane closed the door behind her, Carl strode to his daughter. Gently pushing her to sit on the bed, he sank down beside her. “I know it’s upsetting to be rejected, Kitten One, but that happens occasionally.”

Fanchon lifted her head and straightened her shoulders. “I wasn’t rejected.”

“What happened, honey?” he asked in concern. “What’s causing you so much pain? You’ve never used such harsh language in your life.

“Nothing happened.” Her voice cracked as her defenses crumbled under her father’s gentle questioning. “Honest.”

“I can’t believe that. You’re always logical, but you’re not right now. That’s how we know something’s wrong.”

“Oh, Daddy!” she wailed, flinging herself into her father’s arms. “Why me? Why did this happen when I wasn’t expecting it? I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t look for it. I didn’t even want it. But I got it, anyway. How could something like this happen?”

Carl embraced her and smoothed down her hair. “Life isn’t always fair. I heard what you and your mother said, and I have a question that she didn’t ask. Were you raped the night of your assault?”

“No.”

“I hope you aren’t lying again, because if you are, I’ll have to do something I won’t be proud of. This soldier who supposedly …”

“Supposedly!” Fanchon pushed away from him and scrambled to her feet. Now her beloved father was accusing her husband, but she wouldn’t allow it. Gabe was a good man, and she refused to let even her closest relatives malign him. “What does that mean? That you think Major Freeman was my assailant? He helped me, Dad. He didn’t hurt me, and he never would.”

“Then you are interested in him.”

“He saved me from a terrible fate,” she continued, ignoring his observation. “I would give my life for him. Don’t make him into a horrid man, because he’s not. He was kind and sensitive. And he didn’t question me like I was on trial.”

“We’re worried about you, Fanchon.”

“There’s too damned much concern for me around here. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I’m going to find a way out of this house to prove it. Now leave me alone. I need some sleep.”

When Fanchon turned her back on her father, Carl wandered to the door. “Don’t forget that we’re always here if you need to talk.”

Once alone, she opened her satchel and withdrew Gabe’s tintype. “How am I ever going to tell them, darling? Mom’s opposed to me falling in love, and Dad thinks you assaulted me. I want to tell them, Gabe. I truly do, but I can’t–not under these circumstances. I’m afraid of how they’ll react. I’d feel terrible if they decided that they hate you simply because of how we came to be married.”

Taking out the tintype of them both, she stared at it. The ache returned to her heart. Gabe had insisted that she lay her left hand on his arm at just the right angle so her wedding band showed. He’d been gone less than twelve hours, and she already missed him desperately. If only they’d had more time together. Returning both pictures to her satchel, she slipped off the cameo ring and gazed down at her wedding band. Oh, how she loved Gabe! If she had an idea of when he would return, her mind would rest easier. Maybe!

Fanchon strolled to her window and stared out at the late evening sunset. It would have been more beautiful with Gabe at her side, because they could watch it together. The door opened, and she slid the cameo on again. As Fanchon turned around, Astrid entered.

“Get the hell out of my room!” she exclaimed, her rage no longer containable. “And get out of my life while you’re at it.”

“I know you didn’t lie about not being attacked at the Rock,” Astrid said. “And I don’t blame you for being mad. But you were attacked the other night–in Trevor’s storeroom.”

Fanchon’s anger was still too strong to react any way but instinctively. “Who told you?”

“Nobody. I was there today, and I felt it. You can’t hide things like that from me.”

Fanchon collapsed on her bed in distress. Astrid was right. Whenever one twin got hurt, the other knew it. When one was upset, the other knew. If Astrid had been in that room, she knew that Fanchon had been terrorized there. The best thing to do was admit it and avoid another confrontation.

“All right,” Fanchon mumbled. “I was attacked in Trevor’s storeroom. Now leave me alone.”

“I can’t. There’s more, and I think it has to do with that soldier who kissed you by the barn last night. From the way you’ve been acting the last couple days, I’d say you lost your heart to a man who won’t take it. He can accept a kiss here and there, maybe even some loving on the side. But he won’t accept anything permanent. I could give you advice on how to win his heart without him realizing it.”

“If I did need advice,” Fanchon said, “I certainly wouldn’t ask you. I know what kind of person you are, Astrid. I won’t tell Mom or Dad how close you and Trevor are, but I do know. And since I’m keeping your secret, you have to keep mine. The second you try to interfere in my life, Mom and Dad will hear everything about your many intimacies with Trevor. Then you’d have nobody to satisfy your sexual needs. Or do you have more than one man waiting in bed for you?”

As Fanchon had hoped, Astrid stormed from the room. Once more alone, she locked her door to delight in her memories of Gabe.

EIGHT

The first of Gabe’s letters arrived two days after he left. They were long epistles telling Fanchon about his childhood memories, his inner-most secrets, his dreams for the future. Once he even expressed his anxiety about going into battle with the prospect of leaving her a widow. Several times he wrote that he’d never known such a fear and couldn’t understand why he did now. Her independence should keep him from worrying, he’d mentioned once, but he was still deeply concerned for her well-being.

In one letter, however, he mentioned the distant memory of having broken up a fight between a pretty, seven-year-old blonde and a ten-year-old red-haired boy. He’d been traveling from the East to the Wyoming Territory when he was a teenager and his family had stopped to visit a relative who had lived in Moline.

Anyway, he wrote, the moment I saw that redhead attacking you in the storeroom, I saw that fight of years ago. But when I learned his name was Trevor Riley, I wondered if it was possible. The boy’s name had been Trevor, but I could never remember the girl’s name. In fact, I’m not sure I ever knew it.

A nearly identical memory returned to Fanchon when she read his words. Had destiny brought them together more than once? Had that one time on the city street been a mere prelude to their life together? Wouldn’t Bianca think that was a romantic incident!

Fanchon found comfort in all of Gabe’s letters, though–not just that one. All of her life she’d wanted to marry a man like herself, a man she would never have to worry about. But once she’d found one, she learned that concern and anxiety were directly related to love.

Twelve days after Gabe left, Bianca appeared at the hospital. When Fanchon came out of a room with Dr. Watson, Bianca raced down the corridor to greet her. Without saying a word, Bianca pulled Fanchon aside then took a piece of paper from her purse and handed it to Fanchon.

“I brought this as soon as it came,” she said in a loud whisper.

Fanchon stared at the name on the envelope of the telegram–Mrs. Gabriel Freeman. It had to be official. Nobody but the military would send her a telegram with that name on it. They’d been married less than two weeks, and Gabe had already been hurt. He might even be dying. No wonder she’d been so worried about their destiny.

“I know what you’re feeling right now, Fanchon,” Bianca said, drawing her from her thoughts. “It’s hard to open. But that’s the only way to find out what it says.”

Nodding her head, Fanchon withdrew the paper from the envelope and read it. The second she saw Gabe’s name as the sender, she sighed with relief. He hadn’t been hurt; he’d sent the message. Overcome with joy, Fanchon hugged Bianca.

“It’s from Gabe!” Backing away, she read the entire telegram aloud. “Named company commander. Awaiting troops two weeks. Let me know. Gabe. Thank God, he’s safe!”

Bianca smiled, her own relief obvious in her pale eyes. “I can’t tell you how happy I am for you. What does he want you to let him know?”

Grasping Bianca’s upper arm, Fanchon led her down the corridor for more privacy. “He wants to know if we’re going to be parents.”

“I guess you would have a good idea before he goes.”

“I’m already having symptoms, Bianca, but before I make an appointment with a doctor, I want to be sure I’m not imagining them. Sometimes a woman will be so desperate for a child that she’ll have a false pregnancy, showing all the symptoms without actually having conceived. Since that’s how badly I want to carry Gabe’s child, I should give myself more time.”

“Do you really think you’re pregnant?”

“I suspected before he left. I’m trying to be logical about this, Bianca. My mind keeps telling me it’s too early to be sure. But in my heart, I’m positive.”

Bianca chuckled. “With the way your marriage started out, you should listen to your heart.”

“I know. And that’s just the beginning. Gabe and I have a similar memory–from different views. When I was about seven, a boy Nels’ age stopped a fight between Trevor and me. I was completely infatuated, but I never saw him again because Nels wouldn’t let me go when he met the boy that night. The thing is Gabe remembers breaking up a fight between a blonde girl and a redheaded boy named Trevor. He doesn’t know about our shared memory yet, though, because I’ve been so busy at the hospital that I can only find a few minutes before I fall asleep at night to write to him. But we decided you were right when you called our meeting destiny. We think the baby is destiny, too.” Pausing to glance behind her, Fanchon discovered more men lingering in the hall. “Can we talk tonight? I want to tell you everything.”

“And I want to hear it. You don’t know how hard it’s been not to ask questions. Come around eight. Then the children will be in bed, and we won’t be interrupted.”

“I’ll be there, but right now, I’d better get back to work.”

***

In the background, children played, and adults talked at the family celebration. But Fanchon felt no joy–only loneliness. Destiny had been unfair to give her love then take it away so soon. She’d firmly believed that Gabe would mail a letter to arrive on time, but Bianca hadn’t brought one. Had Gabe already tired of being her husband? Sitting alone by the front window, she stared at the barn door where Gabe had waited to escort her to their wedding.

When Jane announced that dinner was ready, Fanchon took her place at one end of the table while gazing blankly at her other half at the opposite end. That was exactly how she felt about Astrid, too. Despite their quarrels, Fanchon knew she could never feel complete without her twin nearby. When Astrid winked at her, Fanchon offered her a fleeting smile. They were two individuals, but they were still one. The special bond they shared was too strong to be broken–even by them.

Fanchon thought the meal went rather well. After all, she hadn’t thrown up on her plate, no matter how badly she’d wanted to. Of course, she didn’t eat much. For the most part, she shifted her food from one spot to another. Once the cakes were cut, a white for her and a chocolate for Astrid, she excused herself from the table and returned to the window. She simply couldn’t bear seeing so much food any longer.

When it came time for opening gifts, she did so, thanked everyone, then returned to the window. She knew she was putting a damper on the party, but she couldn’t help it. The only thing she wanted for her birthday was a letter from Gabe. No, that wasn’t the only thing. She wanted Gabe to be there more than a letter, but a letter was the most she could hope for.

“Fanchon?” her father asked as he stood beside her. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Not particularly,” she admitted. “Ignore me and have fun. I don’t want to spoil Astrid’s evening.”

“You can’t help but spoil it when you sit off by yourself.”

“I want to be alone. I have a lot on my mind tonight, and nothing has anything to do with a party.”

Fanchon watched Carl stride back to the party. What was Gabe doing at that minute? Was he thinking of her, wishing he could be there for her birthday? All of the signs pointed to his growing disinterest, but her heart insisted that his letter had merely been delayed. Then Bianca’s voice startled her from her introspection.

“What did you say?” Fanchon asked as she turned toward her sister.

“I said it’s not what you think, so quit sulking.”

“I’m not sulking,” Fanchon insisted. “I don’t feel well. Just the smell of food makes me sick.”

“That’s what I thought. I had Daphne take my handbag to your room. Why don’t we go talk?”

“All right. Then I’m going to bed.”

Wandering to the couch, Fanchon explained that she didn’t feel well then excused herself. With Bianca offering to help her undress, the pair mounted the stairs to Fanchon’s room. There, Bianca reached into her handbag and withdrew an envelope and a small package.

Fanchon’s heart swelled with happiness. Gabe hadn’t forgotten. Ripping off the wrapping, she took off the lid on the box to reveal a piece of paper. Curious, she picked it up. Beneath the paper was a gold heart locket approximately an inch and a half in length. Tenderly lifting the pendant, she caressed the etching of a single rose bud on the front. No one had ever given her a present as beautiful or expensive as this. Releasing the small clasp, she opened the heart expecting to find a picture of him. Instead she found a tiny inscription: Destiny’s Desire. How sweet! Gabe had used two appropriate words to describe their belief, and they had more sentimental significance than an entire message, or even his picture. Fanchon passed the necklace to Bianca then unfolded the paper.

Dear Mrs. Freeman,

 I haven’t left Moline as I write this, but I will as soon as I finish.

For the first time, I hate army life. When I requested a transfer, I had nothing to lose. Now I could lose you. I don’t know why, but the thought distresses me. I want us to have a long, happy life together.

 I wish I could be with you today, but I’m there in spirit.

The locket is a token of my commitment and loyalty. Remember one thing: our marriage is destiny’s desire.

                                                        Happy Birthday, Mrs. Freeman,

                                                                  Gabe

“Isn’t he wonderful, Bianca?” Fanchon crooned. “Destiny’s Desire. It’s so appropriateand so perfect. And he says in his letter that our marriage is destiny’s desire. I wish he were here so I could show him how much I love him.”

“He already knows. The telegram came today, by the way.”

Fanchon read the telegram as well: Happy birthday. Wish I were there, as are my thoughts. Always yours. Gabe.

“Have you told Mom and Dad yet?” Bianca asked.

“No. Every once in a while I hear them discussing the change in me. Actually, discussing is the wrong word–they argue. They both think Gabe’s my problem, but Mom thinks it’s unrequited love, which in all honesty it is, and she’s glad he doesn’t want anything to do with me. She thinks I need experience in love before I get married. With Dad it’s even worse. He thinks Gabe raped me and wants his head on a platter, just like Herodias demanded she receive John the Baptist’s head. He’s so angry he even said those words. How can I tell them under those conditions?”

“How can you not?” Bianca asked. “If you are pregnant–and we both know that you probably are–things will only get worse. The longer you wait, the harder it will be.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I want to tell them. I want to tell the world, but I don’t know how to broach the subject.”

“Maybe I can help.”

Fanchon shook her head. “This is something I have to do myself. Besides, if you tell them, you’ll be in as much trouble as I am.”

“I’m only going to see what they’re thinking. If I do, maybe you can think of a way to tell them yourself.”

“Oh, Bianca, would you do that?” she asked.

“That’s why I suggested it.” During a brief pause, Bianca grinned. “Now I have a secret for you. Ben might have a jobas a bookkeeper at the new Moline Plow Company. They interviewed him today, and it sounds encouraging. Until he actually has the job, though, you have to keep our secret.”

“You’ve been keeping mine, so it’s only right that I return the favor.”

“Thanks. I’d better unbutton you so you can get to bed.” When Fanchon turned around, Bianca continued their conversation along another line. “What did you do with the money Gabe gave you?”

“I hid it with the other things. Why?”

“You should bank it, Fanchon.”

“How can I? A couple of the clerks are my friends. I can’t suddenly deposit eight hundred dollars without them asking questions.”

“You still have to do something with it. Gabe’s father will be sending you five hundred a month for your support. That’s going to add up pretty quickly.”

“I know that, too,” Fanchon admitted.

“Then put it in the bank.”

With a long, sorrowful sigh, Fanchon faced her sister again. No matter how right Bianca was, Fanchon still had reservations. Rumors moved fast around Moline. “I could think of another lie and hope my friends don’t gossip. I’ll take the money over on my way to work tomorrow.”

“Good. I’d better get back downstairs. Night.”

When she was alone, Fanchon lifted her mattress to take Gabe’s picture from its hiding place. Sitting down, she spoke to it as she did every night before she retired.

“I hope things are easier for you than they are for me, Gabe. I had to go back and have my picture taken again because Mom and Dad were suspicious. I hate deceiving them, but they’re stone walls where you’re concerned. They both suspect you made me unhappy, and they both have different theories as to why. If they’d stop arguing about it, maybe I could explain. But the way Dad’s acting right now I don’t dare. He needs to calm down first or he won’t care where the Army sends you. He’ll find you and hang you from the nearest tree.

“By the way, thank you for the locket. I’ll wear it all the time.” After kissing the picture, she added, “Good night, my darling husband. And keep safe.”

***

Her stomach churned, but she couldn’t find the nearest alley so she could throw up again. Eight hundred dollars was a lot of cash to carry around.

Fanchon chuckled. At least, she still had a little rational thought after meeting Gabe. Financially her mind was as clear as ever, and concentrating on her duties helped keep her mind off Gabe during the days.

As she reached the door of the First National Bank, a man called her name. Turning, she saw Byron Wood hurrying toward her. “Good morning, Byron.”

“Morning,” he returned, his dark eyes dancing in reflection of his mood. Then they drooped downward as a frown crossed his face. “You look awful. Are you feeling all right?”

“Not particularly.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing that time won’t heal.” Fanchon smiled. “Now that we’ve established that I look horrendous, how are you feeling? You look well enough.”

“I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“Starting a savings account. And you?”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m buying Fred Blankenship’s old house. His family got too big for it, so he built on the hill.”

“I’m glad he’s doing so well. That’s a nice little house, too. I’ve been there several times. I’d give anything to have a house like that some daywhen I have a family, of course.”

“Maybe that day won’t be very far off.”

Fanchon stared at him. Did he suspect that she and Gabe had been intimate? The day of her wedding he’d given her a strange, rather suspicious look, even though he’d responded in kind to her cheerful greeting. Had he examined the room to see if there was any indication that something had happened between her and Gabe? Had he discovered that there were no soiled towels that could be attributed to her nursing of Gabe?

“I’m sorry, Fanchon,” she heard Byron saying. “I shouldn’t have said that. You haven’t even agreed to let me court you. I hope you will, though. I know you’re busy at the hospital, but I’d appreciate it if you’d at least consider it.”

Still too stunned to speak, she continued to stare at him. He didn’t suspect her marriage to Gabe. He wanted to court herand marry her from the sound of things! No wonder he’d bought that house. She’d made it no secret that she adored it and had actually told Patience, who had probably told Fred who had in turn told Byron.

Neither Patience nor Fred was particularly close to Fanchon, but Fred and Byron were best friends. Once the Blankenships had even invited both her and Byron to dinner on the same night. Several months earlier she’d thought nothing of it, but now the night surfaced to haunt her like a nightmare. They’d been trying to help Byron! Now what was she going to do?

“Will you let me court you, Fanchon?” he asked.

“This is so sudden,” she replied. “I didn’t even know you were interested in anything more than friendship. Let me think about it for a few days. Right now, I’d better do my business so I can go to work.”

In the bank, Fanchon explained that she’d been saving for several years. To her relief, her friend understood and didn’t question her. Apparently, he wasn’t even suspicious that the cash was all in fifty-dollar bills. Now she only needed to think of a suitable explanation for depositing five hundred dollars every month!

***

Returning home after a long day at the hospital, Fanchon greeted her mother with a yawn then mounted the stairs for a nap before dinner. Things had been so hectic at work that she only had time for the soup Dr. Watson had brought her. At the time she thought she would throw it out after he left the room. Unfortunately, he sat down and wouldn’t leave until she’d finished. When she first started eating, it was so he wouldn’t question her. But after a few bites, she felt a little better and emptied the bowl.

Upon reaching her room, she opened her door and stopped short. Across from her, Astrid was rummaging through her dresser drawer. Of all the nerve! They may be twins, but this time Astrid had gone too far. Nobody would invade her privacy without her getting revenge. Folding her arms under her breasts, she demanded, “And what are you doing?”

Astrid slammed the drawer and spun around to lean against the bureau. “I was putting away some of your laundry.”

Fanchon shook her head. “I’m surprised, Astrid. You’re usually better than that at lying. Now what are you doing?”

“You’ve been acting strange lately,” Astrid answered while Fanchon closed the door and wandered to sit on her bed. “I was trying to find a reason.”

“Did you?”

“You should know. All that’s in your drawers are the same things that were always there.”

“And how many drawers did you go through before I came in?”

“I’m trying to help you,” Astrid said in a hurt tone, “and you’re acting like I’ve committed a sin. I’m your twin, Fanchon. I care. I only want to help.”

“I know you too well to believe you, Astrid. You’ve never cared about what happens to me. Why are you suddenly interested in my welfare?”

“You’ve never acted so strange before, and I know you as well as you do me. We may not always get along, and we may not always agree. But I still know you best. You’re hiding something, and I think it has to do with a man. I want help you with your problem.”

“You never do anything that doesn’t directly benefit you. How could my having a problem with a man possibly concern you, unless … That’s it! You want to steal him from me, don’t you.”

“You know I already have Trevor. You made that perfectly clear the other day. Which reminds me, I’m beginning to wonder how much you know. You said Trevor and I meet at the Rock, but I have a feeling you’re bluffing.”

“Then let me explain. I know because I saw you two there a couple of months ago.”

“What did you see? Nothing, because nothing happened.”

“Do you honestly think I would say that I saw something if I didn’t?” Fanchon asked. “Since when have you known me to lie and get away with it? I saw you, Astrid–very clearly. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, it was a little too clearly.”

“You’ve been lying a lot lately, Fanchon–more than you’ve done in your entire life. So yes, I have known you to lie. And I want proof of what you know about Trevor and me. I want you to tell me exactly what you think you saw.”

“All right, but remember that you asked to hear it. First, he kissed you. Then he unbuttoned your shirt and squeezed your naked breasts. But you didn’t look very excited. You didn’t look happy when he lay in your arms and suckled at your nipples like an infant, either. When he finally laid you down and pushed your dress out of his way–then you were very receptive. That’s exactly what I saw, sister. You wanted to hear it, and you did.”

“You spied on me!” Astrid accused. “How dare you!”

Fanchon struggled not to reveal her shock. She’d relied on their bond to describe an encounter, but she never dreamed it would be so accurate. Apparently, their sixth sense was a lot stronger than she’d thought. Astrid had learned of her attack in the storeroom that way, and she’d learned the details of a liaison between Trevor and her twin.

Doing her best to hide her amazement, Fanchon said, “I wouldn’t call it spying. I was already there when you and Trevor arrived, so I hid. I didn’t know that I would be forced to watch you and Trevor show each other your loveif you can call it that. It looked too boring to be called anything but sex. Anyway, by the time I realized what was going to happen, it was too late.”

“You didn’t have to look,” Astrid declared.

“I didn’t have much choice.”

“Damn it, Fanchon.” Astrid’s baby blue eyes narrowed with rage. “I know why you stayed. You were taking lessons.”

“I’ve known about intercourse since I was fourteen. I read all about it in one of the medical books Dad borrowed from the doctor. We discussed it at the time, and I decided that I don’t need it in my life. If you’d grow up a little, you’d realize the same thing.”

“All right. I believe you saw us. Now what?”

“If I ever find that you’ve been going through my belongings again, I’ll go straight to Mom and Dad and tell them.”

Astrid sighed in defeat. “What next?”

“There is no next. If you mind your own business, we’ll get along fine. But the second–the very second–I learn that you’ve been invading my privacy again, I’ll go to Mom and Dad. Have I made myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” Astrid mumbled as she left the room.

Fanchon sighed. That was close. But at least, she could keep Astrid from snooping in her room again.