The Color Of The Soul (The Penbrook Diaries) (17 page)

My
fear has been realized. Captain Riley has been gone for several weeks and Cat
has turned her attention to Thomas. What is it about her that men seem to find
so hard to resist? My Pa, Thomas, Stuart Riley, even Shaw is in love with her,
though he tries hard not to show it. Sometimes I think she cares for him as
well, but I suppose that is a silly thought. Though it would be a fitting
union.

Each
day I watch as Thomas falls more and more under her spell. I am powerless, as
he has eyes only for Cat.

What
shall I do if they marry? My life will be unbearable living in this house, though
I know they will not ask me to leave my home. Common decency prevents such a
thing. But I know they will only suffer my presence. I must somehow prevent
their union. I accomplished that very thing once. I can do it again. I must.

Chapter Ten

Andy hooked the collar of his jacket with
his index finger and slung it over his shoulder as he walked the dusty road
back to town. The midday sun beat down, scorching the red dirt beneath his
feet. Sweat trickled along his spine and soaked his white shirt. His mind
replayed Miss Penbrook’s latest story. He would have to confer with the diaries
as soon as he arrived back at Buck’s place. The old lady had trailed off in her
mind once again before revealing which of the women ended up with Thomas.

Andy shook his head and smiled. Romance
had never interested him before. But he had a real curiosity about Thomas and
which woman he’d chosen. Why take so long to declare
himself
one way or the other? According to Miss Penbrook, he’d been home more than a
year and a half before Stuart Riley’s little proposition to Cat.

Riley.
. .Riley.
. .the name bothered him. Was it too much to be coincidence?

As he walked, his mind drifted back
twenty-six years.

“Hello,
Andy.”

Ten-year-old
Andy stared way up. The man standing before him was so
tall,
he could probably knock a bird right out of the sky with his head. With a
smile, he bent so that he came eye to eye with Andy. His eyes creased with
humor. Andy relaxed and took the massive proffered hand.

“I’m
Daniel Riley. You’re going to be living with my family. Do you know why?”

Andy
shook his head.

Mama
had never told him why. All he remembered were wild whispers. Mama’s wet tears
on his neck. Being shoved onto the train as it slowly inched forward. Mama
walked then ran alongside, her hand stretched toward him. “You be a good boy
for them white folks. Don’t ya make
no
trouble, ya
hear?”

He’d
promised, fear and confusion playing a discordant tune inside him.

The
shrill of the train whistle had drowned out his pleas to stay with his mama.

Hours
later, he stood on the wooden platform, being greeted by the tall, white Mr.
Riley, who had kind eyes and a deep, rumbly voice.

“Where’s
your bag, Son?”

“Ain’t
got
no
bag,
suh
.”

“What
about your clothes?”

Andy
felt the embarrassment clear to his worn-out boots. “All I
gots
is on me.”

“Well,
no worry. We’ll fix that lickety-split.”

“You
mean I’s gettin’ me some new britches?”

“Of
course. I’ll have my wife take you shopping tomorrow.”

“Ain’t
never had me no new britches
befo
’.”

Mr.
Riley chuckled and rubbed Andy’s head. “Well, I can see the first thing we’re
going to have to work on is your speech. I’m told you’re about the brightest
boy who ever lived. So I’m sure you’ll catch on fast.”

Andy
felt a stab of pride at the praise. Someone thought he was a bright boy? “Yes,
suh
.”

Maybe
living in Chicago wouldn’t be so bad after all. But geez, he was
gonna
miss his mama and the other kids.

A honk, a roaring motor, and the crash of
pain on the side of his head all yanked Andy from long-buried memories. He hit
the dirt amid shouts of laughter. His case flew from his grasp and popped open.
On hands and knees, he scurried to retrieve the papers that were scattering in
the breeze.

A truck skidded to a halt and five white
boys, three of whom he recognized, hopped out. A telltale beer bottle in the
dirt near his face solved the mystery as to what had knocked him in the head.

“What are you doing back on our road,
boy?” Fat, freckled,
red-headed
Gabe. He remembered
the boy from his first day back in Oak Junction. Still up to no good.

“Nothin’,
suh
,”
Andy said, rising to his feet. “
I’s
jus’
walkin
’.”

Gabe snatched Andy’s jacket. “Why you all
dressed up?
You going prowling?
Caught the scent of a
fresh young nigga gal?”

“No,
suh
.”

“Maybe you think you’re too good for a
colored? You after a white girl?”

Oh,
God. Help.

“Oh, no
suh
, no
suh
.”

“What’s that you’re carrying there?”

He clutched his case containing all of
his notes from the diaries and his conversations with Miss Penbrook.
“What, this?” He hoped his eyes conveyed ignorance.
“This ain’t nothin’ but a bunch o’ papers Ol’ Miz Penbrook axed me to carry to
town for her.”

“Miss Penbrook?” A slightly built,
handsome man came forward, his brown eyes snapping, not in anger but something
else.
Something akin to curiosity.
He snatched the
case from Andy’s hand. “What’s she doing sending papers to town with a
colored?”

“I don’ know,
suh
.”

The man scrutinized him, and Andy knew he
saw more than the rest. His gaze drifted over Andy’s clothing. “You’re not from
around here.”

“No,
suh
.”

“From the North?”

Andy nodded.

The redhead laughed without humor. “Looks
like we got us a real live uppity Yankee colored. What do you say we teach him
his place?”

“Wait.” The other man raised his hand.
“What are you doing down here with Miss Penbrook? And stop the ignorant act.”

Andy gathered a breath. “She hired me to
write her memoirs.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a
writer?”

“Yes.”

“See what I mean? Uppity.”

The man glared at the redhead. “Shut up,
Gabe.” He turned back to Andy. “Why would Miss Penbrook hire on a colored from
the North to write her memoirs?”

Andy shrugged. “I’ve been trying to
figure that one out myself.”

“Aw, Sam, he’s too ignorant to figure anything
out. Let’s just string him up.”

“Shut up, Gabe!”

The redhead seemed stunned to silence.

The man stared Andy hard in the eye.
“Where’d you say you were born?”

“I come from Chicago.”

The man called Sam narrowed his gaze.
“That’s not what I asked.”

“I was born around here. I don’t remember
much about living here, though. I moved north when I was ten.”

Anger fired in Sam’s eyes. His face
reddened. “What’s your whore mama’s name?”

Andy squeezed his hands into fists to
keep from lashing out. “My mother was no whore, mister.”

Sam stepped forward, nose to nose with
Andy. The stink of alcohol on his breath, combined with the stale stench of
tobacco, churned Andy’s gut. Sam bared stained teeth and practically growled.
“Her name?”

“Rae Carmichael.”

The young man’s eyes took on a wild fury,
and he sprang before Andy could brace himself or step aside. They crashed
heavily to the ground, rolling. The case flew from his hands again. Andy knew
better than to fight back. He covered his head and took the blows.

“Fight me, you worthless nigger!” Sam
shoved Andy’s face in the dirt.

Andy clamped his lips shut against the
rocks and dirt and shook his head vehemently.

“Fight me!”
             

“No! I’m not giving you an excuse to hang
me.”

A stream of violent expletives shot from
Sam’s lips. “I don’t need an excuse.” Sam shoved up from the ground and turned
to his friends. “Get a rope.”

Disbelief shot through Andy as two of the
thugs hauled him to his feet. How could this be happening?

Chicago

“I’m going, Mama.” Lexie snapped her suitcase
shut and grabbed the handle, sliding the burden off the bed. “Nothing you say
is going to change my mind.”

“Honey, you
ain’t never
been down South.
You don’t know what I
knows
.
That husband o’
yours’ll
be back soon enough. Ain’t
no need
fo
’ you to put
yourself in danger.”

“It’s important.
Too
important to leave anything to chance.
Andy may not even be planning to
come back to me. I have to get to him before he does something stupid.”

“Nothin’ more stupid than
traipsin
’ off to somewhere you ain’t got no business
traipsin
’.”

Lexie stopped at the fear-filled brown
eyes. She set her bag on the floor. “Mama, listen. Andy was furious about
Robert being here the other night. He thinks I’m doing more than I was with
Robert, and that alone might cause him to turn to someone else.
Or.
. .I don’t know, I just have a bad feeling. He needs
me.”

Tears flooded the soft, dark eyes. “Call
the roomin’ house where he’s
stayin
’ and at least let
him know to expect you. That way he’ll be at the station waitin’ when you gets
there.”

Lexie hesitated. As much as she preferred
to surprise Andy, it might not be a bad idea to have him waiting when she
arrived. “All right, Mama. Dry your eyes. I’ll put in a call to Oak Junction
and talk to Andy before I leave.”

Georgia

Andy scrambled to keep his footing as the
white boys led him like a dog on a leash to the back of the truck. Oh, God,
they were going to drag him? Better to be hung. Every ounce of dignity within
him fought against a swelling tide of tears. He fought against the urge to
plead for his life. A futile plea, he knew.

The rope burned his wrists. Fear tore the
breath from his lungs as he faced the inevitability of the next few minutes.
The only possible outcome could be death.

Lexie’s precious face flashed before him.
If he had another chance, he’d tell her that she was the only woman he’d ever
loved. The only woman he ever could love. He’d beg her forgiveness and pledge
his undying fidelity. But now she’d never know how much he cared.

The rope tightened as Sam looped it around
the chrome bumper and began to tie it.

“Hey, Sam.” Gabe’s voice shook. “You
ain’t really doing this, right?”

Sam looked up and sneered. “You a nigger
lover like your brother?”

“It’s the middle of the day! My pa or one
of his deputies could catch us.”

A blond-haired young man wearing a red
and blue shirt stepped up, his brow furrowed. “Come on, Sam.
Havin
’ a little fun is one thing. But there’s no need to
take it too far. And it ain’t about
lovin
’ this
colored.” For emphasis, he doubled Andy with a fast gut punch. “You know Gabe’s
pa runs a clean county.”

 
“Then maybe it’s time for a new sheriff.”
Sam’s lips curled again as he spoke the words like a challenge.

“You
sayin
’
there’s something wrong with my pa?”

“Yeah. He’s too soft on coloreds. That’s
why your brother ain’t been run outta town by now.”

“Now, look, Sam.” The blond-headed man
spoke up, nerves trembling in his voice. Hope sprang inside of Andy. If they
could only reason with the fellow, Sam, maybe Andy would make it through this
without being killed. “Ain’t
no call to be
insultin
’ Gabe just because his brother can’t stay away
from the colored gals.
It’s a sickness in some men.”

 
“Yeah,” Gabe said. “You think I like it
that my own flesh and blood is taken in by some black witch’s voodoo? Besides,
Sam, you should know that after your own--”

“You want me to put a bullet through your
skull?” The fury in Sam’s face seemed to take the others by surprise.

In the distance, Andy heard the sound of
a motor. A cloud of dust swirled up from the road. A truck slammed to a halt
and the driver got out in what seemed like one motion. He whipped a shotgun
from behind the seat and slammed the door shut.
“Hey!
What do you think you’re doing?”

“Well,
looky
there.” Sam’s lips curled into a sneer. “Just the fella we were discussing.
Maybe we ought to drag him after the nigger and rid the town of two filthy
vermin.”

Andy blinked in surprise at the sight of
the man he’d met in Georgie’s club.
How ironic that the
person who had beaten him senseless was now coming to his defense.

“Watch it, Sam,” Gabe said. “I know
that’s the liquor talking, but I’m gonna knock the tar out of you if you don’t
quit
insultin
’ my family.” He shot a glance to the
road. “Get outta here and mind your own business, Rafe.”

“Not until you turn him loose. I can’t
stand by and watch you murder a man in cold blood.”

“We’re just having a little fun, that’s
all. We’re just
scarin
’ him.”

“That
ain’t
what it looks like, what with the rope and all.”
Rafe
kept coming. “Let him go. Now.”

“What are you gonna do, raise your
shotgun against your own flesh and blood?”

“If I have to. I’d rather see you shot in
the leg or the arm than be hung for killing this man without cause.”

Sam stepped in front of Gabe. “Then shoot
me.”

“This ain’t like you, Sam. What’s
botherin
’ you?” Rafe’s enormous body towered over Sam’s
slight form. Andy knew he could take him easily. Instead, he placed his hand on
the younger man’s shoulder and looked down with compassion.

Sam shook off his hand. He turned a
venomous gaze on Andy. “This ain’t over.” He lifted his eyes to Rafe. “You have
until I get back behind the wheel to save him.” He headed for the driver’s door
of the car.

Andy’s knees weakened.

Rafe pulled a knife from his pocket and
sawed through the ropes binding his wrists. Just as the engine fired up,
sending black fumes into the air, the rope released. Sam spun rocks and dirt as
he gunned the motor and sped down the road.