"Explain to me again why we're doing this?" he asks his father.
"Because, Sean, your grandmother isn't up to doing it," is the response. "Why do I have to keep saying that?"
"It's just, I don't know, it feels wrong somehow," Steven answers. "This is Grandpa's den, his inner sanctum, his bat cave if you will. No one was allowed in here without him, including the maid. It just doesn't feel right to be in here poking around."
"We're not poking around," his father reminds Sean as another file is returned to the cabinet. "We're taking care of his affairs. Now that Dad's gone, Mom and I need to know exactly what's been going on with the business. He's been dead for nearly two months now and the foaling season is here. We've got to have the sires and dams sorted out before any of the foals can go on the market. Then there's all these people trying to get to your grandmother's money. Frauds have no problem praying on the grieving to make an easy buck."
"And since you're the eldest son, you get the lovely joy of sorting all of this stuff out," Sean states as he drops down into the ostrich hide chair behind the desk. "Damn well inconvenient of him to die right before Thanksgiving."
"There's never a convenient time to die, Sean," the elder man sighs as he starts to flip through another file. "And yes, because I'm the oldest, it's my job to look after things. I just wish Dad had felt it necessary to at least take Mom into his confidence and tell her where everything is."
"Grandpa was always the secretive type, wasn't he?" Sean muses as he runs his hand over the antique desk.
"Not always," the father absently replies as he scans the contents of the file. "There was a time when he was the most open man in the world."
"Really? What changed him?" Steven asks just as the business line rings.
"I don't know, but I've got an idea," is the answer from the older man just before he picks up the phone, barely noticing that someone is using the house line. "Steele Breeding Stables, Steven Steele speaking. How may I help you?" There's a pause for about a minute before Steven replies, "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to take that up with our lawyers."
With that, Steven slams the handset back down into its cradle. He takes several calming breaths before he turns back to his son. He's rather surprised to see the center drawer of the desk out and lying on top of the desk while the younger man has his arm inside the hole.
"What are you doing?" Steven asks.
"Did you know that there's a secret compartment in this desk?" Sean counter asks.
Steven lays his hand on the wood and is shocked to see that his son is right.
"I never knew that," Steven states in surprise. "There's something in it, too."
"I know, that's why I've got my arm in here," Sean replies. "How long has Grandpa had this desk?"
"He got it shortly after…," Steven trails off.
"After?" Sean prompts.
"After my sister left over thirty years ago," Steven replies quietly.
"You have a sister?" Sean asks in surprise as he continues to fiddle inside the desk.
"Once, but she had a falling out with Dad and we never heard from her again," Steven states sadly. "She had come home from college saying she had a surprise for us, but whatever it was, it set Dad off big time. He got home first and by the time the rest of us got here, she was already gone and Dad was saying he didn't have a daughter any more. What's taking so long? Are you an Earth Mage or not?"
"I am, but Grandpa did something to the compartment opening," Sean grunts as he screws his face up in concentration. "I'm trying not to destroy whatever's in there. So, who was older?"
"She was," Steven responds. "By ten minutes."
Sean raises his eyebrows in shock and then goes back to work in silence for another minute before a look of triumph crosses his face. He pulls out a folder filled with papers and newspaper clippings. After making sure he got everything out, he hands it to his father and then returns the draw to its proper place. When he looks back up, Steven has taken a seat across the desk from his son and has noticeably paled.
"What's the matter, Dad?" Sean inquires as he quickly gets up and comes around the desk.
"It's Selma," Steven whispers, nearly in tears. "He kept a file on her. All these years and I thought she didn't want to talk to us any more. He hid everything she sent us. Look at this. It's a wedding invitation. She's married."
Sean briefly glances as the once white paper, now tinged ivory with age and then looks down at the open file in his father's lap. A newspaper clipping near the bottom catches his attention and he carefully pulls it out as his father goes through the other items.
"Here's a birth announcement," Steven says shakily. "I have a niece. You have a cousin named Margaret Susan Cavendish. God, she must be…she's nearly thirty-three. She's a little more than five years older than you. Here's a baby picture of her. She was cute. I wonder what she looks like now. Pretty as her mother I bet."
Sean is barely listening to his father as he reads the article in his hand.
"I wonder if there's a current address in here," Steven muses excitedly as he starts to riffle through the papers.
"Not for Aunt Selma there won't be," Sean sadly states as he hands the newspaper clipping to his father.
Steven takes it and reads the headline. He's glad he's already sitting down as he can feel all of the blood drain from his face and it seems as if the world just shifted into the wrong direction. He rereads what's printed there in hopes that he read it wrong, but it hasn't changed. He barely registers that the date on the news paper is Saturday, July 9, 1983; about eleven years after Selma had left.
"SON OF SHIPPING MILLIONAIR, WIFE DIE IN FREAK BOATING ACCIDENT"
Yesterday, the USS Papillon sank in a freak squall on its way to the Hawaiian Islands on a privately chartered cruise. Of the fifty passengers and crew, there were no survivors and all but a few bodies have been recovered. Among the casualties were Rupert William Cavendish, only son to shipping magnet William and Susan Cavendish, and his wife Selma Emily (nee Steele) of the Steele Breeding Stables which many a champion Thoroughbred has come out of.
They were on the cruise to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary says a close family friend. They leave behind a nine year old daughter…
Steven can't read any more as his eyes fill with the tears of loss and regret. Sean pulls the newspaper out of his father's nerveless fingers and retrieves the folder from his lap. Retaking his seat at the desk, he starts to carefully go through the papers in there, letting his father grieve in silence. What he finds is not only surprising, but a bit disquieting as well.
"What else is in there?" Steven asks quietly after he finally regains his composure.
"Not much more," Sean answers sadly. "But what there is isn't happy news."
"Why? What is it?" Steven demands.
"There's a letter from my cousin," Sean replies. "She invited Grandma and Grandpa to lunch over a decade ago saying she wished to finally meet them."
"So what's wrong with that?" Steven questions, a frown wrinkling his brow. "Why wouldn't that be happy news?"
"There's a copy of a cease and desist order along with a private communication with Grandpa's lawyer to have it drawn up and issued against one Margaret Susan Cavendish," Sean informs his father. "I wonder why Grandfather did all of this."
The two men sit and muse about this for several minutes as Sean continues to go through the remaining papers. When he gets to the end of the papers he comes across an envelope. He picks it up and stares at the front of it for a few moments, a bit confused.
"Cavendish. Cavendish. Cavendish," Steven quietly mutters to himself. "How do I know that name?"
"Dad?" Sean calls, pulling his father out of his wonderings.
"Yes, what is it?" Steven responds.
"This is for you," Sean replies as he hands the envelope over.
Steven frowns at the envelope for a while. His name is written across the front in his own father's hand writing. Deciding that he's not going to get any questions answered staring at the envelope; he pulls the letter out and begins to read.
Dear son,
If you are reading this, then I am dead and you have found the folder. I'm sorry I was never able to tell you in life what you have found out with my death. The night Selma left she had come home with the man she had Kissed. Normally, this would be cause for celebration, but when I took one look at this Cavendish fellow I knew him for what he is in an instant. He was an Air Mage. My sweet little girl had been tricked into giving away her heart by a good for nothing Air Mage! I was furious to say the least. Many things were said that night that I can never take back. My foolish pride won't let me beg for forgiveness in life, so I must ask for it in death. Please forgive me, son, for sending away your twin and never telling you why. I was a fool. Her daughter lives in New Jersey, though she still owns the property that her parents owned. I have enclosed the addresses. I hope you can find solace with that.
Love,
Dad
More tears follow the first ones as Steven hands Sean the letter. The younger man reads the letter a couple of times before he puts it down.
"Should we show this to Grandma?" Sean finally asks.
"No, not yet," Steven answers. "Mom's not ready for it."
"I'm not ready for what?" comes a voice from the doorway.
Both men jump and turn to look towards the matriarch of the family. Her diminutive stature belies the hidden strength within, though she seems smaller than normal even to her own family. Son and grandson are both taken back how old she looks. Her silver mane, normally done in a fashionable style hangs loose around her shoulders and the wrinkles on her face seem more pronounced than usual.
"I'm not ready for what, Steven?" Margaret Steele repeats.
"Um, nothing," Sean lies as he tries to discreetly get the folder off of the desk.
"Horse feathers," Margaret scoffs. "I may not be a Mage, but even I can tell when you're lying. And don't think you're so big that I can't put either one of you over my knee."
"It's nothing, Mom," Steven assures her. "Just go relax."
"I'm done relaxing," Margaret tells him as she steps into the room. "This place isn't going to run itself. Now give me that folder you're trying to hide, Steven."
"Folder? What folder?" Sean inquires, trying to look innocent.
"Give me the folder, one," she starts in a warning tone.
"Really, Mom, it's nothing," Steven insists.
"Give me the folder, two," she continues, her eyes narrowing. "You don't even want me getting to three."
With a sigh, Steven nods at Sean and the younger man brings out the folder and hands it to his grandmother. She continues to glare at him as she snatches the folder from his hand. Steven stands and guides his mother into his seat.
"I'm not an invalid, you know," she grumbles as she sits.
"Trust me, Mom, you're going to need it," Steven states and she looks at him quizzically as she opens the cover.
She starts to examine the contents. She finds the wedding invitation and birth announcements first and gets excited, but then she reads the newspaper clipping and begins to shake. The letter from Maggie and the cease and desist order all but undo her. It's not until she gets to the letter from her husband to her son that she loses all control.
For the next several minutes she sobs her heart out as Steven stands next to her with his hand on her shoulder as his own tears silently slide down his face. Watching his grandmother and father cry brings the sting of tears to Sean's eyes as well. When they all finally pull themselves together, Margaret looks at Sean with a piercing stare.
"Find her," she orders as she hands her grandson the letter with the addresses on it. "I don't care what it takes, just find her."
"Mom, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Steven says worriedly as Sean takes the letter and quickly leaves the room. "After that little cease and desist order, I'm not sure she's going to be too interested in hearing from us."
"That doesn't matter," she retorts. "What matters is getting to know my granddaughter. She has gone through most of her life thinking I want nothing to do with her when nothing could be further from the truth. She is my child's child and I want to know her."
"There's more to it than that, isn't there?" he asks, giving her the penetrating stare this time.
"I just talked to the Librarian," she admits. "When the Seer in a Family dies a new one emerges immediately and it's always a fully trained adult. I've checked with everyone in our family, Steven. None of them are the Seer. What if she's the Seer? We have to bring her into this family."
Further conversation is interrupted by the ranch manager calling up to the house and informing them that one of the mares appears to have gone into labor. With that news, all discussion of long lost relatives and Seers is dropped as they prepare for the arrival of the newest foal at the stable.
The next few weeks Sean spends trying to find his long lost cousin. He finds out quite a bit about her past, but not much on her current situation. What news he does have, he gladly gives to his grandmother and father.
"Well, Cousin Maggie has had quite the interesting life," Sean tells them. "After her parents died, she moved in with her dad's parents in Atlanta, Georgia. She was privately tutored until she got her high school equivalent when she was sixteen and her grandfather died shortly thereafter. It's after that, that she invited you and Grandpa to lunch. After that she returned to the East Coast where she went Harvard and got she got master degrees in business and biology. She graduated when she was twenty-one. She then spent a year traveling mostly in Europe before she bought some land in New Jersey and started 'The Last Chance Ranch' where she takes in abused animals. She also owned the land next to the ranch and that was one of the addresses Grandpa had, but she recently sold it and purchased another property some fifteen miles north of there right next to a sanitation facility. I managed to get a phone number. I called and left a message, but I haven't heard anything back and I called about a week ago."
"It could be she's on vacation," Steven suggests.
"I thought that too, but on a whim I decided to check out the second address," Sean replies. "The electricity, gas and water have just recently been turned back on at that address and she still owns it."
"Maybe she's decided to winter there," Margaret proposes. "She wouldn't be the first to have a winter home. Where is this place?"
"It's in Mill Valley," Sean answers.
"That's only a few hours drive from here," Steven says. "I could easily make the trip in a day."
"I'm coming with you," Margaret states in a tone of voice that dares anyone to argue with her.
"Ok, how about we go tomorrow?" Steven asks. "None of the mares are due to give birth for another week and even so, Sean can keep an eye on things."
"That sounds good to me," Margaret answers. "Is that alright with you, Sean?"
"Yea, fine with me," Sean replies.
"Good, then it's settled," Margaret happily proclaims. "Tomorrow Steven and I will go and meet my granddaughter."
"There's something else you should know," Sean informs them. "I checked with the Librarian to see which side of the family she took after. It turns out she's both an Air and an Earth Mage."
The next day, shortly before noon, Steven and Margaret Steele pull up to the gate of Cavendish Acres. And sit there in the idling car trying to get the butterflies in their stomachs under control. Steven stares at the sign over the sign before realization dawns on him.
"That's it!" he nearly shouts causing his mother to jump. "That's how I know the Cavendish name. I remember it was this little upstart ranch that was breeding Quarter Horses over twenty years ago. I remember Dad being so intent on running them out of business even though we breed Thoroughbreds. It never made any sense to me until now."
"He was a proud man who never could let go of a grudge," she sadly sighs with a shake of her head. "But that doesn't matter now. What does matter is meeting my granddaughter. And we're not going to do that sitting here."
With that, he puts the car into gear and pull up the long driveway. While the pavement is riddled with cracks, there are no weeds growing between them, obvious to Steven the work of an Earth Mage. When they come around the bend, they both burst out laughing.
"It figures Selma would live in Tara," he snickers.
"She did so love that movie," she chuckles sadly.
They pull up next to the front steps and he turns off the car. Then they get out of the warm car and shiver as the bitter February wind blows past them. They take the few steps up to the front door and they stand there. They're there for a good minute before he gets up the nerve to ring the bell. Another minute passes before they hear movement on the other side of the door. When the door is finally opens, Margaret gasps and nearly faints.
"Guillermo?"
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to 'Gone with the Wind' or Tara.