Daughters of the Heart (23 page)

She scooted up in bed. “Instead of Daddy shooting Braxton, he killed Bull, and they were going to hang him, and I married…

Oh, mercy, it was terrible.” She grimaced. “That slave girl mocked me, and I was getting sucked down into a mud hole under Daddy’s gallows. I couldn’t save him. Braxton laughed at me.”

A knock stopped the nightmare’s retelling.

Mama May scooted off the bed and hurried to the door. “Yes?”

“I heard a scream. Everyone fine?”

She looked back. Gwen pulled the covers up higher, then May opened the door. “Morning, love.”

“What happened? Who called for help?”

“It was me, Daddy. I had a bad dream.”

“Oh. Well…you’re awake now. You ladies get dressed, and I’ll have them bring us some breakfast.”

Not soon enough, she found herself on the third deck of The Mississippi Queen, watching New Orleans grow smaller with each turn of the steamer’s giant paddle wheel. Never again would she be so foolish. She’d… Oh, no!

What had she done?

She raced to find her daddy.

Henry leaned against the bedroom’s wall as May unpacked. She glanced over. “What are you grinning about?”

Giving his mirth voice, he chuckled. “Oh, over what a wonderful woman I married. You ready to shoot Bull or Braxton or whoever had me.”

Her brows arched, and she wagged a finger in his direction. “What did you think I’d do but come save you?”

With arms opened wide, he beckoned her, and she hurried to him. Wrapping her against himself, he relished her softness and kissed her neck. “You get any rest last night?

She scrunched her shoulder and giggled. “Some, but I could use a nap.”

“Me, too.” He kissed her for real. “I’d love nothing better.”

“Daddy? Daddy! You in there?”

Never from the moment of his beautiful daughter’s birth had the temptation not to answer her call for help been any stronger, but he pecked May’s cheek and turned. “Yes, baby.” He stepped over and unlocked the door. “Hey, sweetie, something wrong?”

“Did you post that letter to Clay?”

“Yes. I did. Just like you asked.”

“Oh, Daddy! Why did you?” Gwen backed up a step. What was she going to do now? Clay would hate her, and…she glared at him. “I’m going to be an old maid.”

“No, baby.” He stepped toward her with his arms out, but she turned away, stared out the window. She didn’t want to be consoled. Her life was ruined.

May stepped in front of her father. “What’s wrong? What did your letter say?” Then as though the travesty dawned on her, she frowned. “Oh….”

“Oh what?”

Her father was so clueless. Gwendolyn shook her head. Why, oh, why had she ever sent it? If she didn’t give it voice, then maybe her beau-less predicament wouldn’t be real. Nothing of what had happened seemed real.

Last night’s nightmare was more tangible than everything that had gone on. Yet there her daddy stood.

Joining May, he took his love’s hand.

Shoulder to shoulder, they were the perfect couple. Just as she’d imagined herself with that cad she’d thought—so wrongly—was her prince. Would she ever have one? She remembered Braxton’s face when he’d proposed…the kiss.

How could he be so cruel? She reached up and yanked the locket from her neck and flung it across the room.

“Ooooo! I hate that liar! And now…and now…everything is ruined!”

“What was in the letter, Gwendolyn?” His tone told it all. At least he didn’t include her middle name. But then he usually reserved that for when she’d really crossed the line.

“You can’t guess?” Her eyes filled with more stupid tears. Where they came from, she couldn’t imagine because she thought she’d cried them all. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to sound so mean. I told him I was going to marry Braxton, and that he might as well stay in California.”

“Write him another letter. Tell him it was a mistake.”

“Oh, Mama, and say what? That I want him now?” She shook her head. “He’s a catch. He’ll find himself a nice girl in San Francisco, and I’ll never see him again.”

“Write him again and tell him I forbade the union.”

Stepping closer, May held her arms out. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, but we can fix this. If he loves you as he says, he won’t let the letter change anything. We can write Mary Rachel. Maybe she can still intercept yours.”

“But it’s already been over a week. He’s going to hate me.”

Like a real mother, May tucked a stray curl behind Gwen’s ear. “Perhaps, if we explain to your sister, tell her what happened, she can encourage Clay to come home…” She looked to her husband. “He can court her, right?”

“Wasn’t that what he was doing before he ran off?”

The rage had cooled, but Bull Glover still had half a mind to sell Sofia, and put the money on.… That was it! He stood and strolled to the shelf where he kept May’s novels and retrieved her second one written after she arrived in Texas.

He flipped through it until he found the passage he’d just remembered.

What an idiot he was.

Why hadn’t he seen this before? He put the book back then eased down to Bubba’s room and opened the door without bothering to knock. His son’s lazy wench still lay in bed. He ought to sell her for sure. She pulled the covers up to her neck.

Humph, but not until…

“Bubba’s gone to the warehouse.”

“Well, get your slothful-self out of that bed and go get him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Not soon enough, his only son, leastwise the only one he claimed, darkened his door. “Sofia said you wanted me?”

“Well, guess she is good for something. I want you to go to the swamp tonight.”

“What for? I don’t have any money.”

“There’s an hombre there deals Faro at the Horse Shoe, Harmino, if I’m remembering right, but you can’t miss him. Got a chin to ear scar. Tell him to come see me. I’ve got a proposition for him.”

“What’s this all about?”

Why did the boy always want him to explain himself? “Bring him back, and you can find out same time he does. If you’d read May Meriwether’s Ranger novel, then you’d know exactly what I’ve got in mind.” He waved the boy off. “Get out.”

Shame he didn’t put this together sooner. But Patrick Henry Buckmeyer would get his comeuppance, if it was the last thing Bull did.

The evening of the second day
up the big muddy, Henry stood at the third deck railing and stared at the frothy whitecaps the big wheel churned.

Being back in New Orleans and seeing that Sofia girl dredged up so many old memories. She had to be related, daughter or granddaughter, a niece at the least, but who kept good records on slaves?

Had Glover really bought Tess? Was the girl Bull’s flesh and blood? And if so, did Braxton know she was related?

Mercy, if only Levi hadn’t stopped him the last time he fought Bull…but then he’d be in jail or worse. May would have gone back to New York.

For too many turns of the paddle wheel, he ran all the permutations of going back and taking care of Bull for once and all, but every scenario led back to the Word.

Beside murder being on the top ten list, vengeance belonged to the Lord. God would repay Glover for his actions—unless some miracle happened and the man repented and got a new heart.

What Henry needed to do was pray for his old comrade in arms, forgive him. He sure didn’t want to, but he knelt right there and sought his Creator.    

Gwendolyn reread her letter then looked up. May still worked on hers. Again Braxton’s words, the ones she’d managed to hold in, charged to the tip of her tongue. Her mother—that’s what she was and what Gwen wanted her to be—set her quill down and held up her last draft, waving it in the air.

“Let me see yours.”

“Sure, but...uh…” She pursed her lips. Why couldn’t she keep anything to herself? Now May would know something was wrong. The look in her eyes told it all. Best go ahead and ask her if she knew. “Has daddy ever mentioned Tess?”

“No. Who’s that?”

She looked away then shook her head. “Maybe we should consider the source, but Braxton said this Tess person was the real reason for that first fight between Daddy and Bull.”

“Hmmm. Perhaps we should…your father told me he’d embarrassed Glover over.…” The older woman’s cheeks flushed.

“Over what?”

She leaned in, whispered in Gwen’s ear, then leaned back and shrugged. “He didn’t elaborate any more than that. And quite frankly, I didn’t want him to.”

Gwen had never heard of such a thing, but then other than the basics of sex—she shuddered inside remembering that awkward afternoon, Rebecca explaining the ways of men and women—she never heard more, so she didn’t know a lot.

“So does this happen to a lot of men?”

May laughed then shrugged. “Don’t know, sweetie, not to your daddy, and he’s the only man I’ve had any experience with.”

“Oooo, don’t! Please no.”

Her mother grinned and turned an even deeper shade of red. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Gwen wanted to hear more, but not about May and her father. “It’ll be just fine with me if we don’t get so personal.”

“I apologize.”

“I mean, I like y’all holding hands and kissing and hugging, but….” Of course, she knew…there was Crockett—and the new one on the way and, but.… “So, what are you going to name the baby?” 

May did not have any right. Wasn’t like she didn’t have a past, except she never succumbed to…. What? Surely there was nothing to it; at least not all that much. But why hadn’t he ever said anything?

All afternoon she’d put on a happy face, but knowing her husband harbored a deep dark secret love would have soured her milk if she was still nursing.

Oh, Crockett, will you even remember Mommy when she gets home?

Over dessert—that she needed like one more crazy scenario of Tess in her brain, but ate anyway—they laughed, but she brooded. Well, she was eating for two again after all, except she still carried the extra pounds she’d put on with her firstborn.

Bless the Lord, that Henry liked the extra softness. Or so he said.

Again, her dearest warned his daughter to prop a chair under the knob, then finally she had him all to herself. He closed and locked the door after her. When he turned back, a concerned expression etched little lines around his eyes.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

Mercy, Lord. Could it be that Braxton had just thrown out a name?

“You know me so well.” She tried to offer a smile, but feared she failed to deliver adequately. “I didn’t mean to… I mean it’s probably nothing, but I… It isn’t that….”

He took her shoulders in his hands and held her eyes with his. She loved the depth of their sky blue. “Darling. What is it?”

“This afternoon, while we were working on the letters…well…” She should forget it. How many years ago had it been? A lifetime to be certain. “You were what? Sixteen when you joined Jackson’s army?”

His laughter boomed in the quietness of the moment. “Yes, but Old Hickory? What’s this all about, sweetheart? A couple of times over supper, I thought you might slap me. I know for a fact it’s not your time of month, unless.…”

Horror twisted his face.

“No, no, my love. The baby’s fine. It’s something Gwen said. Evidently, Braxton told her…” She grinned again, or tried. “Can you tell this is circumstantial hearsay at best?” She filled her lungs.

It had nothing to do with her; she didn’t even know him then. Why, she’d only been six and still the apple of the Commodore’s eye.

“Spit it out, May. What’s got you going in circles?”

“Tess. Gwen mentioned that Braxton claimed you hated Bull over someone named Tess.”

He filled his lungs then plopped down in the nearest chair and sighed. “So every one of my sins has found me out. Sue never even knew about Tess. Didn’t figure there was any reason….”

May folded her arms over her chest, but her heart still hurt. She’d come to grips with Sue, but now a whole new past love would haunt her, one he’d kept so private he hadn’t even told his first wife. “So what’s the story?”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Are you still in love with her? Is that why you don’t want to talk about her?”

“Heavens, no. I love you, baby.”

“I know that. It’s just…. Fine. Then tell me about her. I was under the misguided impression that there were no secrets between us.”

“And there aren’t. Tess isn’t a secret. She’s only someone from my past. ” He nodded toward the chair across from him and extended his hand toward her. “Mercy. Sit down, and I’ll tell you all about her.”

She did, then leaned forward, took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his.

“I’d been with the army for a while. The British had landed, but our spies told us they were waiting on reinforcements. Once he was happy with the breastworks we’d dug, Jackson gave a few at a time a day off in town; mine fell on a Sunday.” He shook his head.

“What?” She squeezed his hand.

“Oh, I used to think of it as fate. Know better now. Nothing happens by chance.”

She squeezed a little harder and rubbed the top of his hand with her thumb. She loved his strong hands. “So what did you think was fate?” She met his eyes. “Or should I say destiny?”

“Getting a Sunday off for one thing. Any other day, she wouldn’t have been there.”

“She, being Tess?”

“Yes, ma’am. That day, I was on my way home, but her singing drew me to Congo Square. The rhythm of the drums sounded first, then a velvet alto caught my ear.” He grinned his crooked little boy smile like he was ashamed of the memory. “You ever been there on a Sunday?”

“Oh no, not me. Chester talked about it some, but Sundays were for resting up.”

“Guess I stood out. Not long before she noticed me, and….” He shrugged. “I’d never had anyone sing to me before. I didn’t realize she was a slave. Didn’t understand how different it was here from Kentucky.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Them getting Sunday afternoons off. I didn’t know about that.”

“Chester knew. That was the only thing about New Orleans he liked.”

“Anyway, that evening before we both went back to where we belonged....” Henry lowered his chin. “Couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve relived that day.” He looked up and grinned again. “If I could, I’d change my past, but I can’t, and well… Bull found out about her. And me professing my love, being so naïve over the girl. Then to make it worse, he hunted down her master and made a deal to buy her.”

“So you lied to me?”

“No, when?”

“You told me that the feud between you two was over you shooting your mouth off regarding Bull’s trouble with the ladies, that that’s why he wanted to fight.”

“I didn’t lie. He’d been riding me hard, bragging over owning her someday, then I found out....” A chuckle escaped, and he shook his head. “Your father’s the one who told me about Glover’s problem.”

“Really? How interesting.”

“When it was Glover teasing me, everything was fine, but once Silas gave me the goods to give it back, things changed. Of course, I rubbed in it.”

She leaned back a bit but kept ahold of his hand. “Was she pretty?”

“Oh yes, but couldn’t hold a candle to you.”

“And you’re sure you haven’t been in love with her all these years?”

“Absolutely. I never loved her. What Tess stirred in me…well, I’d call it more akin to lust. I thought it was the real thing, but…” He patted her hand. “At sixteen…it being the first—and only—time with her…. After I got out of the army, Mother and I left New Orleans. Never tried to find her.”

“Why not?”

“No money, plus I knew Mother would not take kindly to me wanting to buy a slave, pretty or not.”

He said all the right things. How stupid for getting all green-eyed over a slave girl. “What did she look like?” Why had she said such a thing?

“A lot like that Sofie girl. Thought for a split second, it was her. You’d think Glover would have kept his son away from his daughter.”

How horrid a man Bull Glover must be. A wave of nausea rolled over her just thinking about it. “Bless God, Henry, that Gwen didn’t run off and get mixed up with the likes of Braxton.”

“Amen. But I’d have killed him and his daddy. Only takes one to hang a jury.”

She tugged on his hand, and he came out of his chair, then pulled her to her feet. She kissed him then leaned back, his arms held her tight. “I would have beat you to it. Nobody messes with us Buckmeyers.”