Deadly Dismissal

By P. G. Simmons

Photographer Madison Morgan is commissioned to cover the 1965 Civil Rights March from Selma to Montgomery. Besides surprising her guardian by showing up at his home, delving into her past, and trying to solve the reoccurring nightmares, she becomes embroiled in deep Southern traditions, dark hidden family secrets, and clandestine subterfuge. Soon love turns hate, life dissolves into murder and traditions fall before pride. Through it all, she discovers how deep the connection goes that she has to one particular individual, who not only understands her but is also overly protective of her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503575622

P. G. Simmons

P. G. Simmons lives on a small farm with her husband. They have two dogs, one cat, chickens, and a few cattle. Although she is a published writer, she is also a photographer, sculptor, and graphic designer. Her latest novel, Evil Deceit, is a continuation in the saga of the Claybourne family, which is seeped in deep Southern traditions and moral values.

Book preview

Prologue

New York City—The Year 1965

A s her eyes began to flutter shut, all she could think about was that this couldn’t be happening to her! What had she done that was so awful that she deserved such an end?

God, why me, she thought to herself, why me?

Her strength was slowly being sapped from her delicate body, and she could feel someone pushing her head further and further under the water—down—down—down. She was weak and trapped and totally unable to move any part of her body. Trying her best not to gulp in any more water than necessary, she struggled as she clawed at her attacker’s hand.

Blood gushed from her torn nails, but the icy water stemmed the flow. Unable to hold her breath any longer, she began to exhale. At first there were tiny bubbles, then they got larger as she tried her best to expel the trapped air in her lungs.

Try as she might, she could not scream as the little globular bodies of air escaped from her mouth moving upward through the murky dark water. The only sound that she could produce were gurgling noises, as she seemed to sink—lower—lower—lower—into the cool caliginous liquid.

Let go, a voice deep inside her wailed—let go!

Looking upward she could see Morgan’s face as he pushed on her head. There was a satisfied smirk on his lips as he began laughing. Her eyes focused and unfocused as she came closer and closer to phasing out! Was her mind solely playing tricks with her?

Beginning to lose what little fight she had left, her eyes began to render a strange sensation as Morgan’s face was exchanged for her face. Suddenly, she was the one looking down and laughing—pushing her little brother’s head deeper and deeper into the black abyss! What was going on? What was she doing? Why?

Then without warning, the image of her face dissolved into that of a man—a full-grown man! The face was fuzzy and unrecognizable as he placed his hand on her head, not her brother’s! Grabbing a mass of her silky blond hair, he began pushing, pushing, pushing her further and further under the icy cold water.

Instantly, she knew that it had to be Gil Claybourne kneeling above her, trying to kill her. How many times had she had this same dream? How many times had the man glared down at her? How many times had he killed her?

Then a second later, the indistinct face cleared coming into sharp focus—it was Ross! His gaze was evil all filled with anger and malice! But her heart insisted that he had come to pull her out of the water. Relief flooded over her entire body knowing that her husband was to be her savior!

That was—until she saw the hatchet in his hand, poised high in the air above his head, ready to plunge it—.

Oh, no—no, she screamed expelling no sound whatsoever, her tears dissolving into the cold water surrounding her, not you too, Ross!

The stress of her trying to scream all over again regurgitated the water she had begun to swallow. Gasping for air, she tried hard not to suck in any more of the cool liquid into her lungs. As she struggled for dear life, she refused to believe that her husband had intentions of using the ax to split her head open.

There was no logic to the image that her mind’s eye had created! The right side of her brain insisted that it was just an aberration, which had been created out of fear! But the left side of her brain questioned—Why Ross?

Before she could think or move, her husband brought the gleaming hatchet down—down—down—smashing into her skull just enough to penetrate the right-side of her brain causing the darkness to overcome the creative part of her being.

S he sat up screaming!

Madison, wake up, a male voice shouted, shaking her violently. It’s only another one of those silly nightmares of yours.

As he attempted to rouse her, she fought him, lashing outward as she tried to regain her wits. She had heard him calling her name, and she wanted so much to open her eyes. Yet, she knew if she did he would be standing there before her, ax in hand, ready to take her life!

It was when she felt the strength of his hands pulling her close to his chest as he tried to comfort her that the stiffness suddenly melted from her body. His warmth began to flow into her cold physical structure reminding her that everything she had just suffered had only been one of those horrid terrifying nightmares of hers.

Slowly she commenced to regain consciousness although she was still having a difficult time opening her eyes. Finally, she looked up and into the face of her husband, who was holding onto her giving her a source of power that filled her with hope. She reached upward throwing her arms about his neck and holding on for dear life.

You do love me— she mumbled softly as sobs echoed from her lips. You really weren’t trying to kill me, were you?

He shook his head as a disgusted look overtook his relatively clean-cut features. Of course not. You were only having another of those crazy nightmares.

I know—I know.

Why now have you unexpectedly elevated me to the villain in them?

She shrugged her shoulders in doubt—her cheeks wet with tears. I don’t know. All I know is that they have always started with Morgan and ended with Gil. Why all of a sudden I have abruptly added you into the mix I don’t know!

Do you want to tell me about this one?

No—I can’t, she said, wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes. It is the same dream only now you are in it.

Have I done something to make you angry or upset with me?

She shook her head. No—not that I know of. Please, I just can’t really talk about it—not right now.

He sighed letting out a breath of air. Alright. I understand, but you will have to tell me soon. You know if you don’t it will continue with that particular distressing event until you talk it out.

I know—I know, she whined. Dr. Vance said I must bring everything out into the open and face each and every terrifying dream head on. But I am not ready to discuss this one, yet.

Hiding her face in his strong shoulder, she let her tears flow once again uncontrollably. Patiently, he waited, holding her tightly to him and gently rubbing the back of her neck. She didn’t know how long they had sat there huddled together, but she was thankful for having such an understanding husband.

Things can’t continue on like this. These nightmares are starting to come more often. Has Dr. Vance indicated one way or the other why?

She shook her head and gave a little sigh. The fact that Ross had always been very attentive and caring only made her love for him grow stronger. How had she gotten so lucky in her life—to meet and marry such a man?

Letting out a soft sigh, she looked up at him and smiled. Don’t give up on me.

Chapter One

Willow Ridge—Six Months Earlier

N estled among the budding oak trees, stood the beautiful two-story plantation. It was still a majestic and grand sight as the moonlight silently flooded the front and crept around the side of the golden cream house. It was obvious that the house had been lovingly attended to through the years since it still looked as it did during the 1860s.

A silence filled the air, as Gil Claybourne tossed restlessly in the big four-posted bed. The room was dark except for a small stream of light, which danced down the long hallway toward his chambers.

This was the time of night when the animals began to settle down and sleep. Chase, a big brown and black mongrel dog, kept his nightly vigil at the foot of his master’s bed. He never relinquished his post no matter what sounds filled the air.

A small grey-striped cat wandered aimlessly around the huge house searching out night creatures. She was always on the prowl for anything and everything that might just strike her fancy.

The little cat had wandered in from the woods and adopted the Claybourne family and was given the name—Tabby. At first, Chase didn’t like the interloper finding it easy to ignore her, but over time he had accepted the cat’s presence. None of the cat’s antics ever bothered Chase as he had gotten used to the feline’s finicky ways—sleeping during the day and wandering the grounds and house during the night.

And out in the huge barn, two horses stood quietly in their stalls waiting for sleep to over take them. Where there used to be five to six horses, now there were only the two to be cared for and attended to daily. The barn seemed a large empty space waiting patiently for the return of the two steeds’ companions.

Over the years, everyone had all become immune to the intermittently strange noises, which emanated every now and then from the attic rooms. But tonight there were no noises, but there was a movement in the lower hallways.

The dog could hear Tabby sneaking around and scratching at the walls as a thin ribbon of light escaped and filtered down the staircase into the lower hallway. The dog seemed to know that the cat would soon make its way up the stairs hoping to find the door leading into the attic rooms slightly open.

Chase could not totally relax until he was sure that the light had retreated back down the hallway and disappeared. Then, the dog let out a yawn and settled back down to sleep, refusing to pay any more attention to the wandering cat.

Upstairs, Tabby had found the retracting light most entrancing and as usual, the curious cat headed into the attic rooms.

Although there was nothing new for her to investigate, it was the little things that always seemed to cast a spell, bewitching her to enter the room again and again.

Once inside the door, the thin, sleek cat sat hunched on her hind legs sniffing the air. Beady little black eyes peering into the darkness watched the human sitting very still in the corner.

There were no noises, yet Tabby knew with the same animal instincts that enveloped the dog that something was not right. There was something to fear at times and something quite gentle at others. This time the cat reared backward smelling an evil in the air.

Was this the time for scurrying away? So far, there had been no noise or movement from the humans in the attic. Yet, the cat was wary as it stayed on its side of the room ready to retreat at the drop of a hat.

Down in the master’s room, Chase’s ears perked up once again and listened attentively to the movements above and became cautious when all the sounds stopped. He listened more closely, but hearing nothing that interested him, he once again closed his eyes and laid his head back down on the floor figuring that if his master didn’t care—he didn’t either.

At that same moment, Tabby’s fur on her back bristled upward, but she was a mite too slow in reacting. Without warning the tallest human was upon her, sweeping her into its arms. Frightened, the cat automatically tried to extend her claws, which had been removed years ago. Still, she was ready for a fight knowing she was no match for the human’s strength!

Tensing up her body, the cat waited for the worst to happen—this attack did not seem that unusual. The human pushed the door closed with a loud report—bam!

As the cat’s escape exit had been foiled, her animal instinct took over. Tabby knew that she needed to reduce her own intensity and slacken her tenseness. By letting the human have its way, the aggravation and abuse would soon be over.

G il woke to the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying. It always amazed him how the morning smells filtered through the big old house. He was a creature of habit and was always up before the first crack of dawn.

In solemn quietness, he dressed in the early morning chill, cursing the fact that he had neglected to lay a nice bed of wood in for a fire. Just because it was March did not mean that there wouldn’t be a few cooler days following the end of winter.

He knew that Mrs. Gossard would have the fireplace in the kitchen going strong and warm, as she always seemed to get Daniel up and out early enough to get the downstairs warm and toasty, keeping out the early chill. His housekeeper was a treasure, and he was thankful each and every day that she had stood by him all these years. What he would do without her loyalty and dedication, he could not imagine!

He knew that Daniel would also have a nice warm fire going in the sitting room as well as the dining room in order for him to enjoy his breakfast in comfort. It had always been the one meal of the day he looked forward to. There was never anyone to bother him while he read the morning paper and took pleasure in beginning his day.

He took his place at the head of the long mahogany table lined with a number of chairs. He looked rather lost sitting there all alone in the big empty room. He had fond memories of growing up in this wonderful old house with relatives visiting all during the year. Mealtime was always exciting and stimulating with discussions and stories and anecdotes.

Gil sighed and thought about how much he missed those days with his mother, father, relatives and friends. Willow Ridge was now such a quiet and solemn place—lifeless and dull.

Mrs. Gossard entered the dining room. She spoke clearly with a delicate Creole-French accent, "Looks like it should be another nice day. This weather makes one feel good to be alive, does it not, Mon Amour?"

Gil nodded and mumbled in reply, I suppose.

The old woman nodded and gave him one of her rare smiles as she placed a plate full of food before him.

Then as usual, she repeated her standard cogent phrase. There is enough food for an army—if you need more just ask.

And with those few words she disappeared back into her kitchen.

Guilliam Riggs Claybourne ate in silence. Although he relished the quietness of the morning, sometimes he wondered what it would be like to have a beautiful woman once again sitting across and sharing a meal with him. It had been so long since Meredith had been able to sit and carry on a conversation with him.

They had slowly begun to drift apart as her mind began to fail and she retreated behind time and deeply into herself. There were times he missed having feminine company around, but most of the time he was content passing each day following a time particular routine and taking care of Willow Ridge, his horses and his corporate interests.

As usual after breakfast, Gil made his way to the horse barn. He moved about with the assurance of habit and no need to hurry. Both Misty and Pacer knew it was getting close to the time for exercising. Even Chase was anxious to get going for the long morning run.

Tabby, as usual, was nowhere to be found. Most mornings one could find the lazy little cat on the back veranda under the old iron bench asleep. Still, Gil was not worried for the cat, like him, kept her own counsel and did exactly as she pleased when she pleased. So, it wasn’t that uncommon for Tabby to once in a blue moon find a new hiding place for her nap.

He paused and looked toward the east to watch the faint glow climb over the tree line, as the morning sun began to stretch its rays outward as if nibbling at the ground. Even for a man who had witnessed many sunrises, it was still a breathtaking spectacle. Living on the outskirts of the city had advantages that the local citizens just couldn’t in any way appreciate. It was hard to imagine that anyone got up early enough each morning to just languish and appreciate the break of day!

At one time, he would have been humming as he stood glancing across the Alabama River or saddling the horses. Now he just quietly went about his business these days enjoying the sight but showing no real enthusiasm.

The daily ride generally consisted of riding Misty across the field and down to the edge of Valley Creek with Pacer being led behind. Once they reached the creek, he would let them drink until they were satisfied, then he would walk them down the shallow edge toward the ballparks before changing over to Pacer for the long ride back to the barn.

He hated the ballparks, which had been erected right off Dallas Avenue. Every time he saw the ugly concrete structure—he couldn’t help but recall just why it stood there off the highway at the edge of his property line.

As his father, Henri Claybourne, was what one might call a man of leisure, he was land poor. He had been born and raised a gentleman with the old Southern traditions ingrained deeply into his character.

At first he had a substantial inheritance and never had to hold a regular job. Henri’s grandfather, Stewart Claybourne, was a well-known attorney in Mobile and had made two fortunes over. He did well in blockade running during the War Between the States and continued to acquire wealth as a rather famous Mobile attorney—especially after the widely notarized Claybourne murder trial.

Gil knew deep down that he should not resent the fact that his father had sold off land in order to keep the old family homestead from falling into disrepair. After all, Henri Claybourne had managed to purchase Willow Ridge for mere pennies on the dollar back in 1929, when the stock market crashed. In a way, he extracted a bit of revenge for the losses that the Claybourne family suffered in 1865 when Willow Ridge was confiscated by the Federal Government and sold for taxes.

The only thing that Henri had regretted was that his father Adam Claybourne and his grandfather Stewart Claybourne did not live to see Willow Ridge back in the hands of a Claybourne or restored to its regal beauty.

After a number of years, there was no real significant income, but the house and land still required a good deal of attention. Having borrowed such large amounts on the mortgage, he had no option but to sell off a good portion of the Willow Ridge property, giving him some discretionary income.

From what his father had told him, there had been no expectation of a sports stadium being built almost in their front yard when he sold the parcel of land to the city. Needless to say, Gil’s father regretted his actions the rest of his life!

It had been Gil who had the responsibility of keeping the old homestead as beautiful and gracious as ever after his father’s death. In 1951, it had been very satisfying when Willow Ridge finally took its rightful place as part of Southern history and was approved as a Historical Landmark.

The major burdens of the preservation of historical sites were mostly borne by private agencies and individuals, who felt the historical and cultural foundation of the Nation must be preserved. Still, the heaviest burden was placed on the legal property owners with a small amount of aid from the State or local government.

Although Gil never regretted the fact that a large portion of his monthly funds went to the upkeep of Willow Ridge, he did believe that the Federal government needed to take part in this preservation work. He quietly worked very hard behind the scenes in support of Congress passing an Act to Establish a Program for the Preservation of Additional Historic Properties, which would not only help those properties already under the protection as Historical sites, but would encourage and expand the program across the entire country.

With a sigh and a shake of his head he turned to head back to the barns. It was apparent that the animals were ready to get back to the stable for their morning feed, as they had worked out the kinks, stretched their legs and freed their spirits.

A s he rode back toward the house, Gil could see a number of smaller homes way off in the distance, scattered out across what used to be cotton fields in the olden days. Even though they were few and far between because they each encompassed a number of acres, it still grated on him that his father had no choice but to dispose of so much of the land, which had made up the original grand plantation. The sight of these modern mansions made him sick, but he was grateful that he had been able to keep Willow Ridge looking much the same as it did back in South’s Golden Era.

When the horse barn came into view, Gil began to tense up. Just the idea of going back into the empty house did not appeal to him in the least. He knew he would spend as much time as possible in the barn before shutting himself up in his study for the rest of the day.

He and Daniel worked side-by-side currying and caring for the horses. He could still remember growing up when they had a stable full of riding horses, and company filled the old house every weekend. There were always young men and girls about enjoying the hospitality of the Claybournes.

Walking toward the house, Gil couldn’t help but look up toward the attic rooms. He could see a shadow standing at the window looking out. Steeling himself for what was coming, he stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the yard.

As if on cue, a woman called in a nervous voice from the window above, Phillip, is that you? I’ve been waiting all day for you to come. Hurry, please hurry, my life is in danger!"

He reluctantly waved his hand in the air. He knew if he didn’t, she would start screaming and trying to escape her rooms. When she set her mind to it, no one could convince her that he was not Phillip Ellison, the one man who had her heart.

Satisfied that Phillip would come to her, the woman left the window and disappeared into the darkness of the room.

Moving over to the rocking chair, the woman sat back down. Back and forth, back and forth—she began to rock and hum. It wasn’t long before Gil opened the door into the attic rooms.

Feeling alright? he asked softly hanging back in the shadows.

Fine, Phillip, she sighed, holding the skittish cat close to her chest as she continued to rock back and forth.

Gil didn’t press her—he never did. After all, he knew it would only tend to upset her. He knew she was troubled over something because she always wanted to see Phillip when she felt frightened or alone. If he waited patiently, she might tell him what was preying on her mind. It had to be her choice and only when she felt comfortable about telling him. After all, her psyche had been teetering on the edge for a very long time, and he must be careful how he handled each and every situation.

Hadn’t Phillip told him often enough to be gentle with her? He thought, a serious crease in his forehead, why was it Phillip who was always on her mind?

He stood there not making a sound. Who would have thought Meredith would have been the weaker one? She had always seemed so strong and very determined. She had known from the beginning exactly what she wanted and had acquired whatever it was she set out to get. So it was with Gil Claybourne when she decided to marry him—she did it without looking back.

Maybe that was why she had stayed with him. Even after she lost the baby and she could have so easily picked up and left him without a second thought—she didn’t. He would never have blamed her one bit—he had understood how it was. After all, he had been second choice!

As he watched her, a soft smile crossed her lips, and she looked up at him. He tried his best to smile back—but there was nothing inside of him that could make a smile curve up the corners of his mouth.

He often wondered if he resented her—even after all these years. It had been his choice to keep the marriage together. How could he abandon her when she needed his protection? Keeping her at Willow Ridge meant keeping her safe and sound in a loving and secure atmosphere. Even now, he could not bring himself to send her away.

It was always Phillip she wanted to see and confide in. He knew all about their relationship—it had never been a real secret. Wasn’t Phillip his best friend at one time? Hadn’t they been close until he had married Meredith?

Meredith and Phillip had gone together all through high school. It had even been an accepted fact that she would one day marry Phillip Ellison, but in the end, it did not turn out that way.

Thinking back, he knew he had been smitten with the beautiful blonde ever since Phillip Ellison had introduced them. Because he and Phillip were per se best friends, Gil had a policy of hands off—first and foremost. If it had been anyone other than Phillip, Gil Claybourne would have pursued Meredith and maybe have won her fair and square.

He sighed, understanding that he had gotten her on the rebound!

Phillip’s plan was to finish medical school, and then marry Meredith. Together, they planned to set up his practice in Selma, but three years after he had left for the University, something happened and whatever came between the two had caused a serious breakup.

He remembered that Meredith had turned to him, Phillip’s best friend, for comfort. Gil was not one to refuse anyone who needed help, so he stepped in and settled into the position of friend and confidant. He was understanding and kind.

Not too long after that, she made up her mind to marry him. He was not only surprised when she suggested that they marry, but he was hesitant since it had seemed such a spur of the moment decision. They had only been on a few dates, if you could call them dates, when she began hinting about a possible life together.

Oh, if only I knew then what I know now, he mused over in his mind, would things have worked out differently?

A slight noise from the corner of the room brought Gil back down to earth—leaving his memories where they belonged—in the past! Gil glanced at the movement in the corner of the room, but decided there was no need or urgency to do anything about it as the old nursemaid, Calliope, was handling the situation.

He looked back at the unrecognizable woman and knew the smile on her face was not for him. It was for Phillip.

She had now wiped her mind of everything except for that last year she and Phillip were together. Still, Gil couldn’t help but wonder what it was that had locked her brain into that particular year of her life. What had happened between her and Phillip? And why did she so readily turn to him out of everyone she knew?

Mrs. Gossard tapped him on the shoulder, interrupting his thoughts. It’s time for her medication.

He stepped aside and watched his housekeeper gently coax the wild-eyed woman into taking her pills. He couldn’t help but be concerned about those damn pills that Phillip continuously prescribed for her. That medication not only kept her calm but also caused her to be listless and more forgetful. Phillip had warned him numerous times that she would have some really bad days, but on the hold she would probably be very happy and content reliving the past. Now, Gil was not so sure that Phillip Ellison was telling him the entire truth!

"Be right back with the Baby Girl’s lunch," Calliope said gently, as she bent over and tucked in the blanket around the woman’s legs. She still did not understand why she couldn’t dispense Meredith’s medication—after all, Baby Girl was her responsibility!

Gil couldn’t stand there watching any longer. It was obvious that Meredith wasn’t going to recognize him, and he despised pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Catching his breath, he turned and followed Calliope out the door and down the hallway.

As he walked out of hearing range, Mrs. Gossard was stern but gentle to the estranged woman who had once been his loving wife. It amazed him just how gentle the old woman was with Meredith regardless of the fact that she did not like her very much.

M eredith sat silently thinking about Phillip. She was always replaying her early life with the man, as she had nothing else to do but sit and bemoan her life choices. She couldn’t understand where Phillip had gone—wasn’t he just here? She also couldn’t understand why Phillip had changed so much. He had never been that dark and brooding. Her Phillip was always so cheerful, gay, and loving!

Yet as the medicine began to take effect, it was easier to recall much more about the past. Often she would recount the day Phillip returned to home as a full-fledged doctor—the day she had waited patiently for those last two years to pass!

There was no question at the time that he didn’t really need her hanging on to him, and she knew in order to fulfill his dream of being a physician she had to sacrifice their love. There wasn’t a time when she wouldn’t have done anything for him. Hadn’t she proven that by stepping out of his life at a time he needed to be unhampered and able to concentrate fully on his studies?

Then hadn’t she been ready to leave Gil that very day that Phillip finished his internship and headed home? That was all she had waited for—for him to return home and come to her—sweep her up in his arms and carry her off.

Her bags were packed, she had left Gil a note, and she was there at the train station waiting for her one true love to arrive. She had lost her child, and she was no longer bound to Gil Claybourne by the conventions of man or God.

Even now all these years later, she could still feel the excitement that coursed through her body as she stood at the train station waiting for him. Her heart was pounding and the joy shone in her face! She looked radiant and beautiful in her green velvet suit with a perky little velvet hat perched on her golden blond head. She felt no regret of leaving her husband for Phillip—the plan had always been to divorce Gil and marry Phillip!

When Phillip stepped off the train and did not bother to glance in her direction, depression kicked in. It was obvious where his attention lay! As he reached out his hand to help a big bosomed girl, at least six years his junior, alight from the train.

She wasn’t what one would call a beauty, but it was obvious by the way she held herself and spoke that she was born in the northeastern part of the country and came from an upper-class family. Even the understated manner in which she dressed shouted that fact!

It was as if someone had taken a knife and plunged it into Meredith’s heart. She knew without being told that the two were a pair! It was at that moment when he introduced the young girl as his wife that whatever love and gentleness resided inside Meredith began to die a slow and painful death.

Over the years, she deeply regretted that she had not done everything in her power to win Phillip back. Meredith knew that staying married to Gil and refusing to give him the divorce had not only been a terrible mistake but had also been spitefully cruel. She had already ruined one man’s life by marrying him when she didn’t love him, and she did not see any advantage of causing two more lives to be spoiled.

Now after all the years of apathy, she had finished destroying any life her husband might have had by keeping him tied to her when he no longer loved her. Slowly, she accepted the fact that her responsibility was for wrecking one person’s life. Whereas the sad fact was that it was Phillip Ellison, who had ended up shattering three lives.

To see each other almost everyday and not admit their mistakes had been incomprehensible for Meredith. There were so many times she wanted to just grab Phillip and make him understand why she did what she did! Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to blame Phillip because in her eyes he could never do anything wrong! She threw all her resentment into an intense aversion to her husband—kind and gentle Gil Claybourne.

Over and over, day by day, she lamented that—If only Phillip had not gotten married, things would have been put right again.

Whether he had stayed with Marjorie out of love, out of revenge, or for the social prominence, Meredith would never know. No one ever spoke of the past again, and it all seemed to drive the one person who had suffered the most down a road from where there was no return.

After all, what she had done, in the name of love, had been for Phillip’s sake! Even the loss of the child did not hamper her love for the man. She had married Gil Claybourne to protect her one and only lover, Phillip Ellison.

A fter Phillip returned home with almost a child bride, Meredith began to mark time as the months passed. Whatever love was inside her was withering away. Gil knew that Meredith was unhappy and was falling deeper into a depressed state because Phillip had turned his back on her and married someone else.

Gil’s life had been put on hold for three years, and now regardless of the fact that she had agreed to a divorce, she was refusing to go through with it. He was at a crossroad on what he should do. He knew she was terrified of being alone as much as he was of having to remain in a loveless marriage.

Before things could be settled between them, everything was turned upside down once again throwing everyone into turmoil. Although losing both sets of parents in the same accident was heartbreaking, it appeared that something good might just come out of such a terrible tragedy. Fate had taken a hand and Madison and Morgan, left with no one, came to live with Gil and Meredith.

When they came to live at Willow Ridge, it looked as if life might just return to happier days. To have a twelve year old and a seven year old in the house seemed to bring it to life. It was as if someone had pulled the curtains back and let the sunlight flood into the room and the halls were filled with children’s laughter. Gil thought things just might change for the better, and Meredith had a chance to break out of her melancholy and become her old self once again.

At first, the four of them were all very happy and became a close-knit family living and playing together. The two children gave Meredith something to love and care for—even her feelings toward Gil began to soften some.

It was transparent that Morgan, her little brother, had filled the empty spot in Gil’s heart. It did not take long before Morgan was imitating everything that Gil did. Regardless of the fact that her husband adored the boy and the boy looked up to him, Meredith for some reason felt betrayed. Soon it became obvious that she emotionally believed that her siblings, especially her brother, should love her more than her husband.

Even Madison was somewhat uncomfortable in her sister’s presence. Being a mere child she did not really understand what was going on between the adults, but she assumed that it was something that she and Morgan had caused after coming to live with them. Morgan was such an innocent that he was able to somehow keep favor with both Gil and his sister, winning their hearts.

Madison, on the other hand, was quite different. She withdrew into a shell keeping her own counsel and doing her own bidding. She ignored the rules and took the punishments in stride. Still, her sister could not break her spirit or control her actions. As for Gil, he approached Madison in a different way—he let her have her way on almost everything and hardly ever took part in the penalties for wrongdoing.

By the time winter rolled around, Gil and Meredith were estranged again. Gil spent his time with the boy and Meredith spent her time trying to straighten out her younger sister. Whether it was jealousy or just plain scorn on Meredith’s part, no one was ever going to find out. The fact that Morgan preferred Gil’s company to hers only added to the flames of antagonism and gnawed into her psyche. She refused to understand that a boy needs a man to look up to—after all, she and Morgan were blood whereas Gil was only related by marriage.

Meredith even began to begrudge Madison’s relationship with Morgan. It became apparent that she wanted all of Morgan’s attention and love. She had replaced her lost son and the loss of Phillip with her brother, and this only caused more tension and apprehension in the household. It also caused Meredith to exhibit melancholia again.

This unrelenting demand for all of the child’s time, attention, and affection was slowly beginning to suffocate Morgan. He loved both Gil and his sister and could not comprehend why everyone around him was so unhappy. Under those circumstances, Morgan began to migrate in Madison’s direction and was becoming just as unruly and angry as she was!

With Morgan’s sudden rebellion against her, Madison’s dismissal of her, and Gil’s distancing from her, Meredith began to change physically as well as mentally. She started to let her outward appearance suffer. At times she did not bother to even comb her hair, and later she quit applying her makeup or tending to her personal hygiene. It was soon left up to Calliope to see to Meredith’s daily needs.

It wasn’t long before Meredith came to the conclusion that God was punishing her once again. That was when the tragic disaster took place. Even Gil’s explanations of what had happened, she dismissed as lies. It was believed that this was when Meredith totally detached herself from reality.

F rom a nearby hillside, Gil and Daniel stopped to watch Madison and Morgan walk the big iron sewage pipe, which crossed Valley Creek a short distance down from the stables. Both children had been told a number of times not to play down at the creek bed and especially do not under any circumstances try to amuse themselves by playing on or around the pipe.

Smiling to himself, he couldn’t help thinking about how he did exactly the same thing growing up—ignoring his parents’ pleas for him to refrain from exploring the creek. Throwing his leg across the saddle horn he sat there at a distance watching in order to make sure both made it safely across. Halfway across the pipe something went badly wrong and both children flew off the pipe and plunged into the cold water below.

Without hesitation, he urged Pacer down into the water where Madison laid motionless while Morgan fought to stay on top of the water. Pulling Madison up and throwing her across Daniel’s saddle, he urged the man to hurry back to the barn and ready his car.

Then with Morgan in his arms, he urged Pacer into a fast gallop toward the fields heading directly to the barn. Pacer flew across the frozen soil as if the devil himself were after them. The horse felt his master’s anxiety.

Gil could think of nothing but the welfare of the children. He knew that they were both very close to death, as their breathing seemed much too shallow and sporadic.

Daniel had already placed the young girl in the car when he saw Gil Claybourne reign up his horse in front of the stables. Gil swept Morgan’s limp body into his arms as Daniel ran up ready to assist him. Immediately, he turned and followed Gil to the car, which stood ready at the house.

Half walking and half running, Gil began shouting orders as soon as he noticed Mrs. Gossard step out of the house, Call the hospital and tell them we are headed there. Also call Doctor Ellison and have him meet us.

He placed the child in his arms in the seat of the small sports car next to young Madison. Climbing into the Driver’s side of the vehicle, he turned the key and got prepared to gun the engine.

Turning to Daniel he immediately sent him for the other vehicle. There’s no time to waste waiting for an ambulance. I’ve got to get them to the hospital fast before it’s too late. You go pick up Mrs. Claybourne and see to it she gets to the hospital.

Then without any concerns, Gil Claybourne swung the sports car widely onto the gravel and headed at breakneck speed down the drive.

Meredith ran out of the house screaming after the car. Wait, Gil, Wait.

Just then the big sedan pulled up next to her and Daniel said softly, Miser Gil said I should take you straight to the hospital.

Yes, Daniel, that’s a good idea, she mumbled opening the rear door and stepping into the vehicle.

All Meredith could think of was that first, the gods took away her baby, then Phillip, and then her parents—and now he had put claim to her two siblings. Why was God Almighty so determined to see to it that she was punished forever?

What happened, Daniel? she sighed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

I’s don’t rightly know, missus, he replied, a frown on his dark brown face. Mister Gil didn’t have a chance to say—only that he had to gets them children to the hospital.

Oh.

As the car rambled forward, Meredith began to pray, Oh, God, please spare the children!

She would have been better off begging for forgiveness for her own behavior. Hadn’t Gil warned her not to be so abusive and harsh with both the children? Was it her fault? She couldn’t believe that—she loved her siblings. It had to be her little sister who had caused all of this. Madison was a constant troublemaker. Wasn’t the girl always egging poor little Morgan on to do something rash and dangerous? Hadn’t she warned Gil herself that Madison might harm the boy?

But was that the entire truth—or only the truth as Meredith saw it? She believed that Madison was a danger to Morgan and needed strong discipline, which she willingly provided. Yet, there was something deep down inside herself that made her the danger—to Madison or maybe to both.

It took exactly fifteen minutes to reach the hospital. Meredith was a nervous wreck by the time Daniel pulled into a parking space. She didn’t bother to say anything to the man as she jumped from the automobile and rushed into the Emergency Room.

The two young children brought in here by a man, she spoke in an erratic out-of-breath tone. Where are they?

The young nurse looked up to see a wild-eyed, frizzy haired, woman looking back at her. Stunned for a moment, the young girl was unable to say anything.

Where are they? Meredith demanded again.

Shaking off her uneasiness, You mean Mr. Claybourne’s children? the young nurse asked sympathetically.

No, I mean my sister and brother. They are not his children! Meredith said raising her voice extremely loud.

Everyone in the Emergency Room turned to look at her. She was about to reach across the desk and grab the nurse when Gil walked up and took her by the arm. Meredith, try to stay calm. Come. I’ll take you to the children.

T he diagnosis for Morgan was not extremely good as Gil and Meredith were told that he had suffered traumatic brain damage. He had entered a comatose state and there did not seem to be any hope of him recovering. Determined that Morgan should die at home surrounded by those who love him, Meredith convinced Phillip to release him to her care. Together they transported the boy from the safety of the hospital to Willow Ridge—against Gil’s wishes.

Madison was still hanging on in the ICU unit. She was to remain in the hospital until she recovered or passed away. Gil Claybourne resented how biased his wife was against her sister. Still, he was relieved that she would be left in the excellent care of the staff at the hospital. If Madison were to have a chance, he knew she must be left in the hands of the medical staff and special machines and instruments needed to keep her functions operating.

By the time Madison had fully recovered and had been removed from the ICU unit, Morgan was still lying in a lethargic state in his room at home. Meredith refused to leave her brother’s side even to visit her sister. So, Madison was regulated to a bare white hospital room with few visitors and no understanding of what had happened.

All anyone knew was that the child had suffered a very violent incident and the sight of Gil Claybourne sent her into extreme emotional distress. Under those circumstances, the only person other than staff that Madison had any contact with was Doctor Phillip, who visited her regularly and brought her what little news of her family that she could digest.

The day that Madison was to return home, Meredith was standing in the foyer waiting for her. She ran to her big sister expecting to be enveloped into her arms and made to feel secure and safe. But what happened was totally unexpected!

Meredith grabbed her by the shoulders and began screaming at her. You killed your brother. You are a monster and I want you out of this house forever!

Madison backed up into Doctor Phillip’s arms as the tears flooded from the corners of the child’s eyes.

Phillip, Gil directed as he pulled his wife away leading her toward another room. Please take Madison to her room.

Confused at the reactions, Madison held tightly to Phillip’s hand and without reluctance walked with him up the staircase.

F or Madison’s own safety, he had arranged to have her sent away to boarding school. It was not supposed to be a permanent arrangement nor a punishment. Still as time slipped by, it did become more impossible to bring her home.

When Meredith was calm and could distinguish reality from imagination, she would insist that Gil send for Madison, but within a day or two she would revert back into her dream world and forget all about her little sister. Gil Claybourne knew that it was in Madison’s best interest that she was kept away from his wife. He had a number of worries but the foremost one was that harm might befall Madison in some manner if she were living with them.

It was not too long after the young girl had been sent away that things began to change at Willow Ridge. It was no longer a happy home. Besides the depression and discontent, everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells. As time passed, Gil started to spend all his time in his study. Meredith stayed upstairs in the attic rooms, which had been turned into a special hospital room for Morgan and a little apartment for her.

He felt guilt for sending Madison away, but what could he have done? Meredith was so angry with the child and threatened to do her bodily harm if he did not keep her out of sight. What life would that be for a child? No, boarding school would be best where she was with other girls her own age and could make friends.

Yet, why did he keep his own company and see very few people? Could it be because of his wife’s indifference? Or was it simply because of the fact that she was keeping Morgan’s body alive by machinery?

At the same time, he was fighting a battle within himself. He couldn’t leave Morgan alone with a mentally ill sister and a crazy old Haitian woman. Phillip insisted that all Meredith needed was love and understanding, as she would come around. But Gil’s question was could he survive it all? No matter how much he thought about it—there were no answers for him.

Chapter Two

Willow Ridge—Friday, January 1

G il sat sullen and depressed in his study nursing a glass of bourbon. Even with all of Phillip’s fervor regarding the newest medication, Gil had seen no signs of improvement in Meredith’s condition. The last few weeks had been quite a strain on him hoping, counting on, and even praying that his wife would show some change for the better.

She seemed to be deteriorating completely before his eyes as she slowly became more and more irrational and volatile. He worried that Meredith needed closer medical attention than Phillip Ellison could provide. After all these years, he finally realized that her recovery depended on the kind of medical help and nursing that a good facility could provide and not on some selfish desire on his part to protect the woman he was married to.

How he was going to broach the subject with Phillip, he did not know. He just wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to send Meredith away. Was he just being selfish? He was pretty sure that Phillip would indicate that.

He glanced up at the clock on the huge oak mantel. Phillip had arrived as usual around seven-thirty after making his rounds at the hospital. He had gone straight upstairs to see Meredith. It was nearly nine now and Gil knew that he would stop by the study on his way out. Phillip couldn’t leave Willow Ridge without sharing a drink with him.

At that moment, there was a light tap on the door as Phillip walked into the room. So, how are you doing?

Don’t you ever get tired of asking me that question? Gil responded sharply. Would you like something to drink?

I could stand a good shot of scotch, but I’ll settle for a glass of your bourbon.

The good doctor walked over and flung himself down on the large leather couch and propped his legs up on the large round coffee table.

Meredith seemed in much better spirits tonight. Have you bothered to visit with her at all this week?

No, Gil replied, carefully measuring out a large glass of good old Southern bourbon.

Well, your wife was trying her best to remember something tonight, but she couldn’t recall what. All she could concentrate on was about how strange you have been acting lately.

Gil handed Phillip his drink and then settled himself again in the big comfortable chair behind the desk across from the man. So she decided that she would confide that particular bit of information in you. How nice of my wife.

Oh, Gil, don’t sit there acting so high and mighty! The woman is sick and if I can help her in any way I will. Remember Meredith and I were friends long before you came into the picture.

Is that what you call it now, Phillip? Friends? he said very snarly.

Noting that Phillip was going to ignore that insinuation, Gil gave Phillip a little smirk as he took a long swallow of his bourbon. Okay, what is it that the two of you spoke about this evening. That seems to be the question you are aching for me to ask.

Phillip sighed and stared at his old friend, wondering just what was going on in the man’s mind. She began by recalling going by my office a few months back to talk with me about whether or not she should contact Madison and insist that she come home.

"That’s all water under the bridge now, Phillip, Gil said a little too surly. Madison can never come home—not as long as Meredith can’t deal with reality."

Surely you see that maybe she is ready to face things now. Otherwise—why is she so insistent about having her sister near?

I can’t answer that question, but I do know that she almost caused Madison’s death right after she was released from the hospital. I will never let her have another opportunity to harm the child.

You can’t continue to hold that one incident against Meredith. She was over wrought and suspicious of everything—even you, Gil. You know yourself she never believed the story you told about what happened to the children.

Again, Phillip, I am in no mood to rake over all these old accusations, Gil snapped as his eyes turned dark and remote. If you have nothing new to tell me regarding my wife or if there isn’t any more progress in her condition, then I am not interested in continuing this conversation. That is unless you are ready to discuss putting her in Bryce Hospital.

Don’t be ridiculous, Gil, he croaked almost choking on his drink. Meredith doesn’t need to be sent away to a sanitarium. You just need to give her more understanding and encouragement.

That would be laughable if I didn’t know you were serious.

What is eating at you? You are acting very strange.

Gil shook his head, sighed, and stated without reservation, Bryce is one of the best and most progressive hospitals for the mentally ill. It has been based on moral treatment and medical advancements since 1961 when it was first opened.

Now you are just blurting out the hospital’s PR, Phillip said, trying to convince his friend that he was just blowing smoke. They have a great public relations firm and pay through the nose for it.

Stop it, Phillip. Gil took a swallow of his drink and bore his