M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga (24 page)

Blake didn’t want to think about where exactly home was going to be. He had considered Chicago his home but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to buy a house
there especially since Meredith was so attached to her horse. She’d want someplace in the country, no doubt. St. Joseph might actually be a better alternative. Of course there was no guarantee that the Union would continue to hold that part of the state. And Pete was going to need to see doctors and have private tutors and they would be more readily available in the recently dubbed Windy City.

On the other hand, in Chicago, Meredith was going to be exposed to an endless line of women he had bedded and rejected. For perhaps the first time in his life, he regretted his hedonistic life.

Blake didn’t know when he had decided to stay married to Meredith. It was as if the decision had been taken out of his hands the moment he stepped out of that jail cell. It was no longer about him; it was about a mother for Pete and Lolly.

At least that’s what he told himself.

22

Blake pulled the horse to a stop on the road that passed in front of the Morgan farm. The children stayed in the gig as he went in to retrieve a few belongings for the children to have as keepsakes. Two things immediately struck him when he walked into the tiny cabin. First was the amount of blood staining the roughhewn floor and the second was the sheer sparseness of the room. He looked around from where he stood reluctant to move further into the room.

There was very little Blake could find for the children. He wanted to take the quilts from the beds but when he found there weren’t any, he assumed they had been used to cover the Morgan’s corpses and removed
when the bodies were removed. In the end, all he could find was a small notebook with recipes handwritten inside, a ragdoll, a guitar, a family Bible, and the children’s clothing. Blake smiled as he read the children’s names in the Bible and was surprised to find Lolly’s real name was Lorelei. He placed the smaller items in a valise he’d purchased in town before carrying them out to the gig. Blake looked for their father’s shotgun for Pete but couldn’t locate it. He supposed the men who attacked them had taken it.

Blake stared at the beautifully penned note on the children’s writing tablet. He was shocked to say the least. Pete had given no indication that he could read or write during the whole time he had been recuperating. Pete’s spelling was atrocious but his handwriting was flawless. Blake had purchased a few elementary textbooks when he had found out he didn’t attend school and he’d done his best to begin teaching both of them the fundamentals of reading. Lolly was learning her letters like a sponge but Pete had refused to participate. He assumed Pete had been embarrassed but now he realized he had been holding back.

It didn’t ta
ke a wise man to understand he was terrified to relate the story of what happened that night and intentionally kept his literacy, as it was, concealed to protect himself from the scum who had disfigured him.

From the contents of the letter, Blake realized he had gone along with Lolly when she called him “Uncle Blake” as a method of getting as far away from his home as possible. But he had no intention of going to live among the Yankees.

It had taken days to arrive in Rolla, the closest city with a railhead. Pete knew Blake planned to take them north that day and he and Lolly slipped out as Blake slept.

Pete’s demeanor changed as soon as they departed. Where he had been standoffish before leaving Chimeric Valley, he was now solidly belligerent. Blake understood long before reading the last line of his letter, “This is all your
falt
,” that Pete blamed him.

Blake blamed himself.

Hastily, he pulled on his clothing and swore out loud when he realized Pete had stolen his money. If Pete did not have the money, Blake would have considered letting Pete and Lolly stay on their own for a day or two after he located them just so he’d understand what hunger felt like and so he wouldn’t try it again but it would take a month for him to spend that much money and frankly Blake needed that money to pay for rail tickets.

It was barely seven in the morning, food would be the first order of the day and nothing was open yet. He wasn’t sure if they would stay in town or try to head
further south. They had traveled east from Chimeric Valley to get to the railhead in Rolla so he knew Pete would not go back west for fear the men who hurt him were still in the area. And with his hatred of Northerners, he’d never go north. So he'd either continue east or go south or hide in town.

It took three hours for Blake to find them. Pete took off at a run but with Lolly not able to run very fast, Blake caught up with them quickly. Blake grabbed Pete by the arm.

“Give it to me,” Blake gritted.

Pete struggled against his grip but quickly realized it was pointless. He reached his hand into his pocket and handed him the money. Blake let go of Pete as he took the money. He peeled off a few bills and stuffed them in Pete’s shirt pocket.

“You hate me; I understand that, you have cause. If you want to run away and try to live on your own, I’m not going to stop you but you can’t take Lolly. She’d be dead within the year.”

Blake picked up the little girl, resting her on his hip. “I know you think you’re going to get a job and support yourself but I can tell you jobs for twelve-year-olds are hard to find. That’s a pipedream. In reality you’re going to be hungry like you’ve never been hungry before – so hungry you’ll be happy to eat other people’s garbage. And you’ll go months without bathing and people are going to treat you like filth because that’s the way you smell.” Blake poked the shirt pocket where he stuffed the money. “That money in your pocket would be better spent on a weapon or blankets than it would on food, Pete. Look around you. I’m yelling at you in the middle of the street and no one is batting an eye.  They don’t care. They’re not going to help you.”

Pete slowly turned his head and found no one watching.

“The sheriff never believed we are related but he let me take you because he didn’t want to bother with you. No one in Chimeric Valley asked to take you in and they know you. Do you think strangers are going to want to help you when your own town’s people did not?”

Blake stopped and took a deep breath trying to calm himself.

“If you don’t want to come with me, let me take you to an orphanage or to a relative who will take you. Do you have any family?
An aunt? Uncle? Grandparent?” Blake looked into Pete’s upturned, angry face. “Answer me?”

Pete narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

“Do you want to go to an orphanage? You’ll have food to eat and a warm bed. I’ll let you take Lolly with you but there’s a good chance she’ll end up getting adopted without you. I’m sorry to be blunt but I don’t see a family in your future. People aren’t going to be lining up for a kid who can’t talk. Is that where you want to go?”

Pete’s eyes narrowed as he slowly shook his head no. He reached toward Lolly and grabbed her arm and tried to pull her away from Blake. Blake grabbed Pete’s wrist.

“I’m not going to play tug-o-war with Lolly. I’m bigger than you are, I’m going to win. You can go off on your own or you can come with us. The choice is yours.” Blake waited but Pete just stared with hostile eyes. “Lolly, say goodbye to your brother.”

Blake turned on his heel and strode away in long angry steps. Lolly screamed and began fighting him.

“No, Uncle Blake! No! Petey!” Lolly was crying loudly and struggling to get away.

Blake fought to keep Lolly on his hip without
accidentally hurting her. He stopped and turned back to Pete who hadn’t moved.

“You’re the only family she has left. She needs you. Lolly and I are going to be on the next train. Please, Pete. You have nowhere to go.”

Pete took one hesitant step towards them and then another.

Blake felt the tension in his body ebb with every step closer Pete came. “You’re making the right decision, Pete. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

Pete followed several paces behind as Blake led them into the first open restaurant he saw. He went directly to the back corner booth and set Lolly by herself in the seat that faced the street. He motioned for Pete to sit opposite of Lolly and he slid in behind him. It was against every instinct in Blake’s body to sit with his back to the rest of the restaurant but he did it to shield Pete from the stares of strangers. Pete struggled to maneuver his food to the back of his mouth to be swallowed and frequently had to put his finger inside to move the food. “Three bowls of oatmeal, two milks and a coffee.” Blake said to the waitress and jumped when Pete slammed his hand down on the table. “There are better ways to get my attention,” he said tightly, turning to face the boy.

Pete motioned towards the woman’s tablet and pencil.

“May I borrow those?” Blake asked her. She handed them over. “Tell me.”

“No
oatmill
,” Pete wrote in perfect scrawl. “It
go
all over my
moth
.”

Blake had ordered them all oatmeal every day for breakfast because the doctor didn’t want Pete eating solid foods until his mouth was better healed. “Do you think you’re ready for solid food again?” Pete nodded.
“Bacon and eggs?” Pete nodded, reluctantly handing the paper and pencil back. “Three orders of bacon and eggs, two milks and a coffee.”

“We don’t have coffee. I can bring you some chicory instead.”

“That’s fine.”

Blake turned to Pete. “Now that I know you can read and write, I expect you to let me know when something’s wrong.” Blake ignored Pete’s angry look and tried to cut the tension with a little humor. “I hope eating solid food today goes well, Pete. You’ve lost so much weight
, I’m afraid some washer woman is going to kidnap you and use your ribs for a washboard.”

Pete crossed his arms over his chest and moved closer to the wall.

23

Meredith walked into the lobby of the Chicago hotel holding her head high the way Donna had instructed. Donna was supposed to be there with her making introductions and securing invitations. They both had their trunks packed when word of Donna’s husband came. Hamilton had been injured at Lone Jack, an injury which required the amputation of his arm but he was going to live and he was on his way home.

Donna insisted Meredith go without her with instructions on how to make her presence known.

Meredith made the decision to stay married to Blake when she realized if he could divorce her for infidelity for not being untried when they married then so could any man. She was not giving up without a fight. It mattered not one whit that she had not told him she was a virgin. They had been caught and forced to marry and they needed to live with the consequences of their actions.

If the man wanted to divorce, she was going to create a scandal the likes of which
Chicago society had never seen. He would come away from their marriage as wounded as she.

Meredith stepped up to the desk and began peeling the gloves off her hands.

“May I help you?” the woman behind the counter asked.

“Yes, I’d like a room.”
              Agnes eyed the fine quality of the young woman’s clothing before pulling out the registry book. She was quick to notice the innocence of the woman’s youthful appearance and wondered why she was not accompanied by her parents or a chaperone.

“Your name?”

“Meredith Warner.”

Meredith had practiced saying her name over and over until it felt more natural. The woman eyed Meredith strangely. “Do you need me to spell Meredith?”

“Uh, no. It’s just….Are you related to Blake Warner?”

Meredith’s heart beat hard in her chest. She knew once she said that they were married, she could not take it back. Meredith swallowed and smiled at the woman. “Oh, you know my husband.”

“Your husband?” Agnes scanned the lobby looking for Blake Warner. “Mr. Warner is not with you?”

“No. He’s away on business and I’m not sure when he’ll be joining me.”

“And how long will you be staying with us, Mrs. Warner?”

“It’s hard to say. I believe I shall start shopping for a residence straight away,” Meredith said, feeling uncomfortable but trying to hide it.

“Would you like to stay in Mr. Warner’s regular room? I believe it’s available.”

“No, actually, I prefer
not
to stay in that room.” Why would the woman think she would want to sleep in the room where he had no doubt had countless liaisons with other women? If she wasn’t trying to establish herself in society as Blake’s wife, she’d not go to any of his old haunts including this one.

“My trunks and my horse are to be brought from the train station shortly.”

“I’ll see to them as soon as they arrived.”

“Thank you. Oh, also my friend Donna Daily tells
me you may be able to procure tickets to various entertainments.”

“I’ll have our concierge see to that for you.”

“Thank you. I’d like box seats if they’re available.”

Agnes wrote Meredith’s name in the book, retrieved the key and Meredith paid for the first week in advance.

“So, you are friends with Mrs. Daily. Are you from Missouri as well?”

“No, I only became acquainted with Mrs. Daily after we were married.”

“And have you been married long?”

“
Mrs….?”

“Agnes Donovan,” she provided.

“Mrs. Donovan, it’s been a long journey and I’d like to go to my room and rest.”

“Of course.”

Meredith took the key and disappeared up the stairs.

Finally
, Agnes Donovan thought. Surely, Mrs. X would pay for information that Mr. BW was a married man for her newspaper column. She reached for her pen and the inkpot and quickly jotted a note to Mrs. X in care of the newspaper.

A woman claiming to be Mrs. BW has arrived at the Regent Arms Hotel. Will you pay for the information?

She signed the note with her name, assigning herself the title of manager though in truth the title belonged to her husband and sent it off with a bellboy.

Two minutes after the bellboy returned from the newspaper building, a messenger from the paper carried a note back to her.

I knew the moment Meredith Warner stepped off the train from St. Joseph. Be sure to read my column on Sunday to find out about their extended
courtship and romantic wedding.

Dressed for dinner in the same green silk dress Blake purchased for her, Meredith descended the grand staircase to the lobby of the elegant hotel. She pretended to be oblivious to the décor as if it was beneath her notice
as she crossed to the dining room.

“Mrs. Warner,” Agnes Donovan called.

“Yes, Mrs. Donovan?”

“You’ve received a letter.”

Meredith couldn’t help but look surprised. Who could possibly be sending her a letter? Who even knew she was there? As she made her way to the desk, Agnes turned to locate the letter in the box.

“Oh, my mistake, Mrs. Warner, it’s not one letter but several.”

Meredith took the envelopes, placed them inside the novel that was to be her dining companion, then proceeded to the dining room. She did not open the envelopes until after she had ordered her dinner from a neatly dressed waiter.

She opened the smallest one first. Inside was a
business card of a real estate agent and a note which read, “Mrs. Warner, Cloris Billingsham asked me to help you find a residence. I’ll meet you in the lobby tomorrow at two o’clock.”

The next envelope was an invitation to the Mayor’s Gala and the last was a note from Donna’s sister, Cloris Billingsham.

Meredith watched out the window as the carriage pulled off the tree-lined road into a walled property where three gardeners tended the manicured gardens of a palatial estate. Easily double the size of Donna’s home, the columned house sat on a multi-acre property. The driver stopped the carriage in front of the house and a liveried footman who had been posted under the portico, opened the carriage door and helped her alight. An impeccably groomed butler opened the front door. “This way, Mrs. Warner,” the starchy butler said
with a highbrow English accent as he showed Meredith into an overly gilded parlor. It was all Meredith could do not to repeat his words and imitate his accent.

“Mrs. Billingsham will be with you in a minute.”

“Thank you.”

Meredith barely sat down on the sofa when Cloris Billingsham entered. She rose to her feet quickly when the lady of the house swept in followed by a maid carrying a tray of tea and a variety of miniature sandwiches.

“Mrs. Warner, how nice of you to be prompt.”

The maid’s head jerked up in her direction, a look of surprise on her face.

“Thank you, Margaret. Please make sure the staff is out of the common areas before you go back to the kitchen.” Cloris Billingsham waited for the maid to leave before she spoke. “This is rather awkward,” Cloris said, “but it’s always awkward when there’s nobody to make introductions.”

Cloris Billingsham wore a large rust and brown vertically striped hoopskirt Meredith. The woman’s facial features resembled Donna’s but her hair was brown, sprinkled with gray and her eyes were the same color as Blake’s but shaped more roundly.

“Yes, ma’am, I know what you mean. Please, call me Meredith.”

Cloris looked at her sideways. “That won’t do at all. You are under the misconception we are going to be friends. That is not the case, Mrs. Warner. In public, we will be polite and perhaps even friendly but in private, I am not going to pretend,” Cloris said. “Do you know how to serve tea?”

“Yes ma’am. Donna taught me.”

“Show me.”

Meredith crossed to the tea service and began making the tea the way Donna had shown her. “I don’t understand why you’ve invited me into your home if you’re dead-set against being friends.”

Cloris looked annoyed. “Of course you don’t, that’s part of why you’re here. You don’t understand anything at all. You and your husband have nothing to lose should the truth come out. My family and I do.”

“But Donna….”

“Leave her out of it. She’s too softhearted.”

Meredith measured out the tea and poured water from the kettle into the teapot. She covered it with the lid and towel while the tea steeped.

“You have no idea what this kind of scandal could cause to our family. Your idea of scandal is having the neighbors talk if you plant an odd number of turnip seeds.”

Meredith looked up from her task at the blatant insult. “If I’m so provincial, why bother with me at all?”

“Because if the truth is ever known, it is better that Blake already be viewed as an equal in society than as the piece of gutter-trash he is. If he is well-liked, people will be more forgiving. Likewise, if you are well accepted, it can only help his cause.”

“What do you like in your tea?” Meredith asked tightly.

“Two sugars and lemon.”

Meredith poured the tea through the strainer into the delicate teacups and prepared her sister-in-law’s tea according to her wishes.

“Do you drink?”

“Spirits?”

“Of course, I mean alcohol.”

Meredith remembered her only real experience with alcohol and how it contributed to where she was today. She had a naughty impulse to ask her if she was offering something a little stronger than tea but she honestly wanted to make a good impression on the woman.

“Not normally, no.”

“Good. At dinner parties take no more than a sip or two of your wine. They might give you a different wine with each course. It’s polite to taste the pairing but if you drink a glass with each course you will have consumed more than a bottle by yourself before the meal is finished. And remember, as petite as you are, a little bit of wine is going to feel like double what everyone else is feeling. My husband is a doctor. If you don’t believe me, ask him.”

Meredith carried the tea to her. “I’ll try not to embarrass you.”

“You will only be embarrassing yourself,” she said accepting the teacup and taking a sip. “I will make a few introductions but as I said, I am not inviting you into my circle of friends. It’s up to you to find your own place. It is not going to be an easy road for you; your husband’s philandering has seen to that. I only hope he stops or you will understand what my mother had to deal with. The only difference is, my father had one affair that was deep felt and yours will undoubtedly have many meaningless ones.

“Mrs. Billingsham, would you care for one of each?” Meredith asked coolly returning to the tray of finger sandwiches.

“Yes, that’s fine,” she answered. “I am not saying these things to hurt you. I have no doubt that you are undeserving of his treatment. But I also know you jumped into a marriage with a man you did not know and you cannot be overly surprised by your lot.”

Meredith was seething. She felt not only ambushed by the woman’s attack but trapped by her unfamiliarity of her environment and lack of transportation.

Cloris took the plate of sandwiches and nibbled at one. “I have not invited you here to argue with you over the indiscretion. I cannot change what happened. I can only work to minimize the damage if the truth comes out. I know you are blissfully ignorant about society and I’m going to use my standing and influence to ease you in as painlessly as possible. I may not be your friend but I am not your enemy either.”

Meredith took her tea and sat down on the settee.

“I’m sorry you feel obligated to do something you obviously don’t care to do.”

She waved aside the notion. “I have arranged for
you to see three houses today. Pick the one you like the best. Blake has a trust fund from my father he never touches that will more than cover any of these homes.”

“He only allowed me access to thirty dollars a month.”

“How miserly. I assume Donna purchased your wardrobe and is financing your stay.”

“She said he will pay her back when he returns. He expected me to stay with Donna while we waited for the divorce but I have decided not to let him divorce me.”

Cloris’s face turned red as a beet and she shook her finger at Meredith. “I do not want to hear that word come out of your mouth again. That word is as vile as any blasphemy. There will be no undoing of vows. After you have chosen your house, I will give you the money and Blake can pay
me
back.”

“But what if…”

“Mrs. Warner, the moment you walked up to the desk at that hotel and told them you were married to Blake, you set in motion a waterfall. You cannot undo it.” Cloris reached in her pocket and pulled out a paper and handed it to her. “One of my friends writes the society column for the paper. I am in a unique position to feed her any information I choose on Blake. Society views him as I want them to.”