Read Online Home of the Brave by Jeffry Hepple - Free Book Online Page A

answered
crossly. “Your great-grandmother did the same thing to show her
disapproval.”
    “So do you,” Annabelle said.
“It must be a family trait.” Her smile now was strained.
    Anna stood up. “Well. It
seems that the snow has cancelled my conference, so I shan’t
intrude on your tryst. It was a pleasure meeting you Mrs.
Priest.”
    “Now hold on,” Yank
complained.
    “Your father and I are not
lovers,” Annabelle said to Anna in a sharp tone, “We’re old
friends.”
    “I’m sure.” Anna put on her
hat. “I may not be home for Christmas, Father.”
    “Fine,” he replied
angrily.
    Anna took her coat and hat
off the rack and walked toward the door, putting them on as she
went.
    Yank watched her to the door
then turned to Annabelle. “I’m so very sorry.”
    “Don’t be. She didn’t bother
me in the least. I expect, however, that you will have a lot of
explaining to do when you get home.”
    He shook his head. “If Anna
talks to Marina, Marina will set her straight.”
    “Marina may not understand
us staying here in the suite at the same time.”
    “I told her that you’d be
here.”
    “Did you tell her that I
would be alone? That James didn’t accompany me this
time?”
    “I think I did. But if I
didn’t, there’s really nothing to worry about. That’s a long dead
horse. In fact, I don’t think Marina would care if we were lovers.
She doesn’t seem to care about anything I do, anymore.”
    “It looks like it’s snowing
very hard out there,” Annabelle said, looking out at the street.
“Should we have dinner here instead of going out?”
    “The food here is
practically inedible. Let’s get our coats and hats and brave Jack
Frost.”
    Annabelle started to turn
toward the stairs then stopped abruptly.
    “Is something
wrong?”
    “Your daughter just kissed a
man very passionately on the lips.” She surreptitiously pointed out
the door.
    Yank turned to see Anna take
a man’s arm and put her head on his shoulder as they walked away in
the falling snow. “Did you see who it was?”
    “Yes,” Annabelle
hesitated.
    “Who?”
    “It was James Carver,” she
said, after another moment.
    “Senator Carver?”
    “Yes.”
    “It couldn’t have been. He’s
almost my age, married and has a house full of children nearly
Anna’s age.”
    “I saw him clearly.
Apparently he was waiting out there for her.”
    “I wonder if he was
the people she
was supposed to meet here.”
    “Does he know you on
sight?”
    “Yes. I’ve met him several
times.”
    “He must have come in and
seen you with her and then gone back out.”
    “Oh,” Yank groaned. “How am
I going to break this to Marina?”
    “Don’t. She doesn’t have to
know everything.”
    “I suppose I should
challenge him to a duel.”
    “Yes you should absolutely
do that - if you want to make Anna’s indiscretions known to the
entire world.”
    “You’re right, of course. As
you always are.”
    “Come along. I’m
hungry.”

December 25,
1828
    Van Buskirk Point, New
Jersey
     
    Yank thanked the express
rider, closed the front door and tore open the envelope to read the
message.
    Marina tried to read over
Yank’s shoulder. “What is it? Is it Jack? Are the children all
right?”
    “It’s from Andrew Jackson,”
Yank said. “Rachel has died.”
    “Oh no.” Marina put her
fingers to her lips.
    “What’s wrong,” Tom asked,
limping into the entry hall.
    “Mrs. Jackson died,” Marina
replied.
    “Who died?” Nannette came
from the kitchen.
    “Rachel Jackson,” Tom
said.
    “Who?” Nannette gave him an
uncomprehending look.
    “Rachel Jackson,” Tom
repeated. “President-elect Andrew Jackson’s wife.”
    “Oh what awful timing,” she
replied. “Practically on the eve of his inauguration. Are you going
to the funeral, Yank?”
    “No,” Yank said. “She was
buried yesterday.”
    “She died in Tennessee and
was buried there,” Marina explained before Nannette could ask
another question.
    “What will Andy