The Last Broken Promise by Grace Walton Read Free Book Online Page B

strapping big boys every few years just like stair steps. So, after Griffin, the doctor told her not to have any more wee ones.”
    “You can control that?” Jess moved her hand away from her eyes. She turned to face her aunt, suddenly intensely interested.
    “Jessamine, do not change the subject,” Dorcas’s voice warned. “You have pestered me upon this topic ever since you were twelve years old and my answer has always been the same…”
    “You will tell me everything I need to know on the night before I’m wed, I know, I know,” the girl said. “I give you fair warning. I may not have to bother you on the night before my wedding. I’ve just about got the whole process figured out.”
    Dorcas snorted again. “Just like you ‘figured out’ that you were responsible for your parents’ deaths, I’ve no doubt? Well, at any rate, Mariah had been told not to risk another pregnancy. She and David were taking the necessary steps to prevent that from happening. But something went wrong.”
    “What?” Jess asked bluntly.
    “When you’ve a practical need for that information, girlie, I’ll give it to you.”
    “I know, you’ll tell me the night before my wedding.” A low musical laugh filled the room. “That’s a nice fairy tale about Mama and Papa, Aunt Dorcas, but it doesn’t change the fact that I was an accident. If it wasn’t for me, she’d still be alive.”
    “You were no accident, Jessamine St. John.” The older woman huffed. “Your mother and father were so pleased and excited about the prospect of having another child they couldn’t contain their joy. Mariah told me you were worth the risk, any risk. She loved you before you were born. So did David. It’s not your fault she died in childbed. You believe you killed her? Well, your poor da believed he alone had caused her demise. I tried to convince him otherwise. But he wouldn’t believe me, curse him. He wouldn’t believe me.” A tear ran down her withered cheek. She wiped it away impatiently. “It was no one’s fault, child. It was God’s will.”
    “And was it God’s will that Papa blew his brains out over my mother’s grave?” Jess’s voice was hard. She’d heard about the suicide from the gossiping maids too.
    “No, girlie.” Her aunt sighed again. “God didn’t will your father to kill himself. David St. John was deceived into doing that foul deed all by himself. He was the most strong-willed, stubborn man I have ever met. He controlled every particle of his life. When he couldn’t control death, he became angry and confused. He sat by her body all night, after you were born, and he cried. David cried like a babe. But by morning he was furious. Infuriated and raging, bleak, cold, and insanely confused, he lost his reason. In that hellish quagmire of emotion, he decided life wasn’t worth living without Mariah. We didn’t know about the pistol he had under his coat at the funeral. When the vicar finished by the graveside and it was time to leave, David sent us all away. He said he wanted to stay with her. We were in the house when we heard the gun’s report. Dylan was closest. He was the first there. I’ve always regretted that. It was an awful thing for an adult to witness, but it must have been even worse for a stripling boy. Your oldest brother told the lie to the preacher so your Papa could be buried beside your mother. He waited till the next morning. Then he sent for Reverend Goode. He told the man your Papa had been killed in a duel. I think the pastor knew the poor lad was lying. But even then Dylan was fair intimidating. So David was laid beside Mariah. God and all His angels surely wept when your poor father pulled that trigger and ended his life, child.”
    “Why have you never told me the whole story, Aunt Dorcas?”
    Dorcas shrugged. “I thought Dylan might have told you, or one of the other boys. Somehow it didn’t seem to be my place.” She tilted her head to one side. “I’m sorry I never told