Heart of Winter

HEART OF WINTER

by

Carol Marlene Smith

* * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Carol Marlene Smith at Smashwords

Heart of Winter

Copyright 2011 by Carol Marlene Smith

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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CHAPTER ONE

Winter…1994

Nicole’s hands trembled when she read the incoming fax:

Dear Ms. Dubois,

I regret to inform you of the passing of your grandfather, Colbert Le Blanc, of Ridgeview, Nova Scotia. Mr. Le Blanc passed away at approximately 9 o clock last night. According to the stipulation in his will, Mr. Le Blanc, who has left entitlement of his entire estate to you, requested that you travel alone to Nova Scotia to settle the estate.

More on the codicil of the will later when you arrive. As Mr. Le Blanc’s attorney, I have taken the liberty to make the preparations for cremation, as he has stated in his will.

I hope this meets with your family’s approval, and I will await word from you as to your arrival. Don’t worry about your plans, as I will meet you at the airport and drive you directly to your grandfather’s property.

Please accept my deepest condolence, as I know how close you were to your grandfather.

Sincerely,

Craig T. McKeen

Nicole stared at the fax and felt very much like someone had just punched her in the stomach. She’d just spoken to her grandfather two weeks earlier, at Christmas. He’d seemed all right then, although he hadn’t said much when she’d told him of her engagement to Ansel Bernard.

Back in Baton Rouge, when her grandfather had been a young man, he and Ansel’s grandfather, who owned the largest hunting and fishing lodge in the area, had a bitter disagreement over charter rights. Ansel’s grandfather had banned her grandfather from certain areas that his own chartered guides had privilege to. Since the elder Mr. Bernard owned nearly all the land bordering the rivers, Colbert Le Blanc lost a lot of customers in his private charter business.

A wave of dizziness fluttered over Nicole, just as the fax slipped from her hand and glided onto the top of Aunt Luci’s organized walnut desk. Cupping her hand around her tear-filled eyes, she made her way to the black leather chair behind the desk and slumped into it. Tears soaked the inside of her palm and gushed through her fingers. She immediately thought of her fiancé, Ansel. He would know what to do. She grabbed the telephone receiver and stabbed in the number. The mist in her dark eyes subsided somewhat when she heard his steadfast voice.

Ansel…my grandfather just passed away, she croaked.

What? Who told you that? Nicole’s strength started to slide again. Ansel sounded annoyed.

I received a fax from his attorney just minutes ago. Granddad died last night. Oh, Ansel, it’s just unthinkable that he died all alone.

Poor Nicole, are you all right? Is Luci there with you? His voice softened, the annoyance dissipating.

Still, telling Ansel hadn’t produced the effect Nicole had thought it would. She had somehow felt that as soon as she told him, everything would be all right. Ansel would reassure her that they could get through this together, and his reassurance and love would numb the pain she was now feeling over the loss of her grandfather. But it wasn’t working. Ansel just wanted to know if her aunt Luci was near, therefore confirming the fact that Nicole once again couldn’t handle anything on her own.

Nicole replied in a determined voice. "No, she’s out. But, I’ll be all right. It seems I must travel to Canada alone, to settle his estate."

That’s outrageous. I won’t hear of it. Ansel raised his voice considerably, the tinge of annoyance returning.

But it has to be that way, Ansel. Nicole sighed, wishing she hadn’t phoned him so soon. She needed to think about the situation, and Ansel wasn’t helping. She felt her throat tighten. Never mind, Ansel, I’ll figure something out.

You? His tone sounded almost sarcastic to her. Nicole gripped the phone so tightly to her ear that it hurt. Then Ansel said the magic words that calmed her immediately. You sit tight, chère. I’ll drop by at lunch time, and we’ll work this out. Don’t fret your pretty head. Luci and I will see that you’re not inconvenienced over this. Now, go see Mary in the kitchen and have her brew you up a cup of herbal tea.

Ansel hung up abruptly, leaving Nicole’s mind in a whirl. The lightheadedness she had felt earlier started closing in again. She jumped from the chair and skirted around to the front of the desk. Grasping the fax, her eyes shot over the body of the letter once again. She, who had never been anywhere, who had never even been on a plane, was now being requested to travel thousands of miles…alone! She raised her eyes and let the paper drop back onto the desk.

The window behind Luci’s desk was partially covered with a bamboo blind, but Nicole could still see the rain rushing down the window pane. Outside, the stately oak trees bowed in the wind, as if they also wept for her grandfather. Nicole settled back into the leather chair.

She had always wanted to travel, but the thought of travelling to such a far off place in the dead of winter terrified her. She’d heard stories of Nova Scotia, of terrible storms and plunging cold. She shivered despite the humid conditions in the room, and her eyes riveted on a large painting of hounds pursuing a rabbit that hung on the wall opposite the desk. The rabbit was trapped and its eyes expelled fear. It didn’t know what to do and Nicole clearly empathized with it.

Luci Dreyfuss, her mother’s only sister breezed in, arms laden with hat boxes. She dropped them tiredly on the wide desk and grumbled, It’s raining cats and dogs. She pulled the string on her rain hat and exposed her short, nut brown curls. Did Anna call about the spring line yet? Nicole, are you dazed or something? What’s so interesting about that old painting?

Nicole’s trance broke and she rose, turning wide, teary eyes on her aunt. Granddad’s gone, she said in barely more than a whisper.

Luci rushed forward. Oh, child, she cried, wrapping her arms around Nicole like a protective mother chimp. I’m sorry. She held her a quiet moment then drew back, wiping away the tears from Nicole’s cheeks. What are the arrangements, child? Will he be taken to Baton Rouge?

The pleasant gardenia smell of Luci’s fragrance filled Nicole’s nostrils and the wet from her raincoat lingered on her skin. This was comfort. This was what Ansel had not been able to give her. She suddenly relaxed in the close familiarity of her aunt’s company. I’m not sure, Nicole said. I have to contact Mr. McKeen. I don’t quite understand. He mentioned something about a cremation.

Lucy fixed her gaze on Nicole. Surely he wanted to be buried beside his wife. I suppose I could manage a trip to Baton Rouge, or will Ansel go with you? And who’s this Mr. McKeen?

Nicole reached for the fax and handed it to her aunt. Aunt Luci, I’m to go to Nova Scotia. My grandfather said in his will that I have to take care of his estate, and I must go alone.

Luci quickly devoured the message and tossed it back on the desk. Well, then you will, as soon as the weather warms in Canada.

But I must go now. Mr. McKeen is expecting me.

And what does Ansel say about this? Luci’s green eyes widened as she stared at her niece.

He thinks it’s outrageous, Nicole replied in a disheartened voice. But, he’s coming by for lunch to tell me what to do.

Luci held out her arms and Nicole fell into them. There, there, dear, I’m sure Ansel will have all the answers for you when he arrives, and I’ll do everything I can to help, too. Don’t worry, everything will be all right. Do you think you can get time off at the gallery?

Nicole shrugged her shoulders. I’ll have to. I hope Nina will understand.

When Luci moved out of the embrace, Nicole managed a weak smile. She watched her aunt move deftly about the small office, scoop up the hat boxes from the large desk and carry them across the light green area rug that covered most of the polished hardwood floor. As her aunt stacked the boxes on the wide shelves at the other end of the room, Nicole wondered to herself if anything would ever be all right again.

****

Nicole was still in a state of numbness, when Ansel arrived as promised. Luci had been called away as Anna had an emergency with some of the fabric for the hats. Nicole sat waiting for him in the solarium of her aunt’s comfortable home. Mary, Luci’s cook, had prepared a light lunch for two, but Nicole couldn’t eat a bite. She sipped her iced tea while Ansel’s eyes rapidly scanned the fax. He popped two dainty finger sandwiches into his mouth and sipped his coffee. Suddenly, with a gesture of exasperation, he scraped back his chair and jumped up.

I’ve got to talk to this guy. There must be some way to get around these stipulations. Lord knows you can’t go traipsing into the wilderness just because your grandfather chose to live there.

Nicole sat quietly while Ansel got the lawyer on the phone. At times Ansel’s voice rose to a shout, then he would go quiet for a period of time. Finally, he returned to the table. Reaching for another sandwich, he seemed to study Nicole’s expression.

You’re in shock, chère. You’re not able to go anywhere. That brute. When I told him of your condition he didn’t even care. He just kept harping on the will and how your grandfather had been of sound mind.

Nicole broke out of her reverie. "My condition? What did you tell him about me? I don’t have a condition."

He rubbed his neck in a thoughtful way. But you do. You’re much too delicate to handle this situation.

His words bewildered her. Ansel, you’re acting like a psychiatrist.

"Chère, I am a psychiatrist." His complacent tone bluntly told her that he considered her to be unstable and therefore unable to make even the tiniest decisions, let alone deal with something as important as her grandfather’s death.

Nicole went cold inside, but her cheeks burned. Well, I’m not one of your patients, Ansel. She suddenly found the courage to defend her grandfather’s wishes. It’s a simple enough request. I’m to be present at the reading of the will, and I will be. Her chin shot upward and her black eyes drove darts of defiance into Ansel’s. She bolted from the table and strutted towards the large windows, brushing by one of Luci’s many hanging ferns and causing it to dance erratically on its brass hook.

Is Granddad being transported to Baton Rouge or back here to New Orleans? Her back was to Ansel as she stared out the rain-stained windows.

Absolutely not! His voice thundered. He’s being cremated and blown around that land of his. I swear he was crazy when he made that will.

Nicole swung around and faced him. She suddenly noticed that Ansel’s thick black hair was already turning grey at the temples. What a strange thing to notice at a time like this. Or was it really? It almost felt like she was a child again confronting her father. Mr. McKeen said he was of sound mind. And, now that I’ve had a chance to think about it, it might be quite exciting to travel to Canada…after all, my people originally came from there.

Ansel sneered at her. Over two hundred years ago, Nicole. What do you know of surviving in the freezing cold?

Nicole’s lips tightened. I’ll manage. I…I’m sure the houses are heated.

Ansel scoffed. Knowing your grandfather, I would wonder.

Nicole stiffened. For the record, Ansel, my grandfather didn’t like you any better than you liked him.

I didn’t really know him.

I know, but your grandfather did. Don’t think my granddad was pleased when he heard I was marrying a Bernard. But he was gentleman enough not to try and talk me out of it.

Ansel leaned back in his chair; his sleepy brown eyes gazed into hers. Could he have, chère?

Nicole moved towards him and peered down into his handsome, dark face. Ansel was a Cajun also. You would think he might understand how her grandfather had felt when he’d returned to Nova Scotia…to his roots. But her broad shouldered fiancé seemed ruthless at the moment, and she didn’t want to fight with him. Of course not, she said with a slight smile. We’re in love, aren’t we?

What do you really know about love, Nicole? His brusque mannerism took Nicole off guard. I wonder sometimes if you truly do love me.

The accusing words spurted from his pouting lips and stabbed her like the sharp sting of a bee. Of course I love you, she sputtered, choking back sudden tears that tried to invade her eyes. But as soon as she had said the words, a tiny voice inside her contradicted them. Do you really?

Ansel laughed heartily and his eyes twinkled. And, as he stood to hold her, he grazed her cheek with a kiss.

His sudden change of attitude, added to the confusing thoughts invading Nicole’s mind, spurred her onward. This was no time for her to be having second thoughts about her love for Ansel. But why was he fooling with her at a time like this? Didn’t he realize how vulnerable she was now? She had just lost her grandfather, one of the most important men in her life. And she wasn’t about to lose Ansel. She decided quickly that she needed to do more than just tell him that she loved him. She needed to show him. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck she kissed him seductively.

Ansel pulled back. Take it easy, chère. Don’t go getting all sexy on me, now’s not the time.

Why not? Nicole had thought it a very appropriate time. She needed his love now, more than ever before. But Ansel was always drawing back. His kisses teased her, but when she reciprocated he pulled away making excuses that the time was not right.

Because I have to make preparations for our trip. His scowl told her that he was not in a loving mood at the moment.

This time it was Nicole who pulled back. Ansel, she said sternly, "you haven’t heard a word I’ve said. You can’t go"

****

Nicole spent the afternoon packing. She threw in a half-dozen heavy sweaters, jeans and slacks. One dark dress for the funeral or memorial service would be adequate. Ansel had reluctantly offered to make the plane reservations, and he also phoned her grandfather’s lawyer again making sure Nicole would be personally looked after by the attorney.

Although she wasn’t quite finished packing, Nicole had one final bit of business to attend to. After donning her raincoat, she stepped outside and popped her black umbrella. She glanced at the overcast sky then strode quickly down the sidewalk. She could have taken a cab, but the art gallery where she worked was only two blocks away in the New Orleans French Quarter. The fresh air would do her good she assumed, and getting away from Ansel and Aunt Luci’s questions was exactly what she needed.

Usually she loved the Quarter, but today she hardly noticed the fancy houses with their grand courtyards. On a fine day the upstairs apartments with their embroidered iron patios would be crowded with the occupants who loved to loll over the railing and watch the sights below. This day they were totally deserted.

Nicole pushed open the heavy gallery door and entered Nina Raine’s art store. She positioned her open umbrella by the door to drip then walked to the front counter to confront her boss.

Nina’s head bobbed up as if to greet a customer, then with surprised eyes she said, What are you doing here on your day off?

Nicole fooled with her coat collar, nervously folding it down while she hesitated to find the right words. She hoped her absence wouldn’t mean losing her job permanently, but she did realize that Nina needed someone, and she couldn’t