Ava’s Revenge (An Unbounded Novella) (5 page)

A slight movement in the trees to my left registered on my senses. I knew it was Ritter Langton, who had been brought to us two decades ago, shortly after his Change, by Tenika Vasco, the second-in-command of our Renegades in New York. Tenika had been afraid Ritter’s single-minded recklessness would get him killed in their frequent encounters with the Emporium. She’d hoped Eva and Locke could train him, and that somehow along the way Wymon and I could temper the anger he harbored at the brutal murders of his mortal family. In the decade since Wymon’s death, I didn’t feel I’d made much progress.

Ritter’s movement had been purposeful, to let me know he was there watching, just in case. I couldn’t feel his anger from this distance, but it was still there. I knew because anger had consumed me in much the same way. It made him both vicious and reckless. I was glad he was on our side.

As I refocused on the approaching stranger, shock flooded me. When Samuel reached the table, he bowed, “A mister Gabriel Smithson to see you, Miss O’Hare.”

I nodded, scarcely seeing Samuel’s face. I couldn’t take my eyes off the newcomer, who was hardly more than a boy of perhaps twenty. Sixty-three years melted away as if they had never been. I was seventeen and he was sixteen, holding my hand as we cried together after my father announced my upcoming marriage to Simon.

No, it couldn’t be the boy who had loved me, though he looked exactly like him. I’d turned eighty-one this year, though I had physically aged only one year in the past fifty, and my Gabriel would be eighty. He was probably long dead.

The young Gabriel’s eyes went to Locke’s deeply plunging neckline where the swell of her breasts stood out against the single roll of blond hair over her left shoulder. He looked away, his face reddening. “Please, Miss,” he said to me, “I come to ask the favor of a loan. I will pay it back. I am a hard worker. I’ll make my farm a success.”

“The blight hit your farm?” This close, I could now detect differences from my Gabriel. The brown eyes were slightly darker, and the blond hair lighter and a bit wavy.

He hesitated at my words, and I opened my mind, reaching out to his. Many had come to me for help in the past years, and most of them had been sincere in their claims. A few had thought to deceive me, to use my kindness to their advantage. I wouldn’t delve into all his thoughts, but this way most of his emotions were readily apparent. I would know if he lied.

“No,” he said finally. “My father gambled our savings away and took out a loan against the farm. But he’s gone now and my grandfather will be leaving the farm to me. If I can keep it from the bank.”

His sincerity was clear, but I focused on the brief glimpse I saw of his grandfather in his thoughts. “Who is your grandfather? Where is he from?” Ten years after my Change, I’d checked up on Gabriel from a distance, wanting to know what had happened to him. Perhaps wondering if there was room for him in my life. I’d found him still in Virginia, married with four strapping sons. I was glad he’d had a life, that he’d found a way to go on, even if I couldn’t seem to. I’d already known in my heart that there couldn’t be any future for us because I was no longer the girl who would be happy as a farmer’s wife, and he would never be anything but a farmer.

Gabriel smiled and love emanated from him. “From Williamsburg, Virginia originally. He and my dad and my uncles came here before I was born. But he’s all I have left now, and I guess I’m all he has. I’m his namesake, and I’m proud to bear it.”

“I have family from Williamsburg. Who were his parents?” A few more questions and I knew without a doubt that fate had once again crossed my life with the boy of my youth. “Is he well?” I asked finally. There was a catch in my voice that made Locke gaze at me more intensely.

Gabriel didn’t seem to notice my emotion, his eyes now studying the ice in my lemonade. He must think it a huge waste of money, a curious luxury, but he couldn’t know that Unbounded had advanced technology that made ice a simple matter. “Not so much these days,” he said, meeting my gaze once more. “He’s mostly bedridden and he doesn’t see well at all, though his mind is still strong. But I plan to marry soon, and I pray that will ease his burdens.” His smiled faded. “That is, if I can . . . I . . .”

I knew what that meant. He wanted to be able to support a wife before plunging into matrimony. From where I sat now, he seemed too young to marry, but mortal lives were short, so they only did what they should.

“You
will
be married.” I looked at Samuel, who was still standing, enjoying the shade. “Please bring me a purse. And will you have Martha find my tin box? She’ll know what I mean.”

“Of course,” Samuel bowed. I trusted him with all the running of the house, and like our other workers, he was content. It was a fine line we walked, Locke and I, treating our slaves with respect and trying to work within the system to free them, while at the same time making the cotton plantation support itself. Too often we’d had to use the funds Locke’s parents had left us to keep the business afloat or to protect our friends.

When Samuel returned with the tin, he had Gabriel sign the customary promise note, while I removed the necklace that had belonged to Gabriel’s mother. Without unwrapping it from its handkerchief, I slipped it into the purse of coins Samuel had also brought. “Don’t open this until you get back to your grandfather,” I said to Gabriel.

“Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” Gabriel bowed to me and then to Locke before turning to stride across the lawn. Even in his humble clothes he looked far more confident than when he’d arrived.

“What was
that
about?” Locke asked, arching a brow.

“I knew his grandfather as a girl.”

“I see.” She knew there was more, but I wasn’t ready to share. I didn’t know if I would ever love anyone the way I had Gabriel, but I had a lot of years to figure it out.

TWO DAYS LATER, I WAS
in the library when Samuel appeared. “Someone to see you, Miss O’Hare.”

“Who is it?” I looked up from the letter I was writing.

“Gabriel Smithson.”

“Show him in here, please.” What could he want with me so soon? I hoped it wasn’t bad news. Perhaps he’d come to tell me his grandfather was dead.

The thought brought me to my feet, so I was standing when young Gabriel entered. His face was drawn, his eyes filled with pain. “What is it?” I asked. My heart thumped loudly in my chest.

“My grandfather is dying. I’m sorry, but . . . he’s asking for you. He won’t say why. I expect . . . maybe he wants to thank you.”

I called for a carriage and went at once. The farmhouse was larger than I expected, and far more masculine. Gabriel’s wife had evidently been dead a long time. I was shown to his room, where I found a frail, wizened figure in a large bed, the light—or life force, as I’d learned it was called—around him faded and weak. As I sat in the chair by the bed, he opened his eyes. Warmth shot through me. He
was
my Gabriel. There was no mistaking the eyes, despite the white haze clouding them.

His gaze shifted to his grandson. “Please, give us a moment.”

When the boy was gone, Gabriel took my hand. “Ava.” The word sounded like a sigh. “I knew it was you the moment I saw the necklace. But how? You haven’t changed a bit.”

I had Changed—and far more than he’d ever suspect. “Your eyes are old,” I said. “You must be seeing a memory.”

“I see well enough.” A pause and then, “Ava, I never stopped loving you.”

There was no sense in pretending. “Nor I, you.”

He smiled at that. “Keep watch over my boy, will you?”

“I will.”

Part Three

Fifty Years Later
April 1845 - Natchez, Mississippi

Free at Last

WHEN BETSY SIGNALED FROM THE
back hallway near the hotel dining room, her dark face was flushed, her eyes wild. My jaw hardened as I let the newest letter from Gabriel’s second great-grandson fall to my lap. Betsy obviously had found something in her investigation of the slave pens.

I nodded once, letting her know that I would meet her in my rooms. Slaves weren’t allowed in the dining area of this upscale hotel, though they could help their owners in the privacy of their own rooms. Betsy had been free for a decade and living in the North for the past five years, but in this town, home to the second largest slave market, it was wise to keep up appearances. Drinking a final casual sip of my afternoon tea, I placed the porcelain cup on the delicate saucer, picked up my reticule, and arose.

“Miss!” A motion to my left had me shifting imperceptibly into a better defensive position. Despite my layers of petticoats and skirts, no one in the dining room could be much danger, but I was always prepared. I touched the handle of a knife, hidden in the folds of my dress.

A man bent and picked up my letter that had fallen to the richly tiled floor, his muscles rippling under his tailcoat. I caught a glimpse of a red silk vest under the coat. “You dropped this.” His eyes bore into me as he stood, and for a moment, I didn’t breathe.

Ah, it’s you,
I thought. I’d noticed him when I’d come into the dining room. I’d even felt regret that I wasn’t in Natchez on some pleasure trip that might allow me to meet him. He had light blond hair with a high widow’s peak, intelligent blue eyes, a square jaw, and a bold, confident manner. So confident that if my ability hadn’t included being able to instantly identify Unbounded, I might have mistaken him for one of my kind.

He’d also noticed me, and the interest I’d sensed from him earlier was stronger now at close proximity. He handed me the letter, and our eyes held. It was difficult to tell his interest from my own, though I refrained from delving into his more private thoughts.

It’s been too long.
Too long since I’d let myself care for a man. Here I was acting like a young girl simply because a gentleman had been mannerly.

A really fine gentleman.

I blinked the thoughts away and accepted the letter. “Thank you. I very much appreciate it. It would have been a great loss to me.”

His smile was disarming. “I’m glad then. Though I daresay, I’m jealous of the man.”

“Oh, really?” I couldn’t stop amusement from seeping into my voice. “How do you know it’s from a man?”

“The intentness in your gaze.” He inclined his head, his grin still wide. “But he is far away, and I am here. I think it might be important to point this out.”

That made me laugh. “Maybe so. I’ll think on it.”

“It would be my great fortune. I will be here a day or two.” He gave a full bow that somehow seemed both to mock and to flatter me. “I won’t keep you. I saw your girl wave to you. She looked . . . upset.”

His concern for a mere slave intrigued me. “Yes, you are correct. Please, excuse me.”

He bowed again, and I forced my curiosity about him to the back of my mind as I hurried out of the room and up the front staircase.

Betsy was waiting in my sitting room, terror for her sister and her family etched across her face. “I saw ’em! Looks like they only jest come t’ town. Got ’em in the pen, out in the open, not inside. Like there’s too many to fit. They be on the block t’morrow, if’n I guess right.”

“Then we’ll act tonight. Locke and I will get them out. And Ritter, of course. You must stay here. You’ve risked enough by traveling here on your own.”

Betsy nodded. “I cain’t see how sumpin’ like this can happen. They was free and happy up North. We all was.”

“You will be again.” I set my reticule on the narrow wall table next to the door. “If you will, please go inform Locke and Ritter that we need to be ready to go before nightfall.”

Betsy took two steps toward the door before she halted and turned around, flinging herself into my arms. “There was nowhere else t’ go. I knew you’d help Frances. But don’t go gettin’ yo’self hurt. You’s the only white angel I know.”

I returned her exuberant hug. Betsy was my own physical age, and she’d grown up on my plantation in Savannah. She didn’t seemed to notice that I hadn’t aged while we’d lived together or in the five years since I sent her and her sister, a former slave from a neighboring plantation, north with their families.

“Don’t you worry. It’ll be all right.” My drawl hid my real emotion. Inside I was furious. This wasn’t the first time my former slaves had contacted me for help, but it was the first time an entire free family had been stolen from the North and brought back to be sold into slavery.