The Color Of The Soul (The Penbrook Diaries) (27 page)

Even in Cat’s semiconscious state of
mine, she’d been aware of exactly when the battle was over. Shaw had commanded
Madame Flora to leave Penbrook land never return. And they hadn’t seen her
since. Rumor had it she had taken up residence in the next county over and had
resumed her practice.

“
Comp’ny’s
comin
’.” Shaw stood as a wagon rattled up the oak-lined
path.

“I wonder who would be coming out today.”
She peered closer, but the sun’s glare prevented a clear picture. She stood and
carried the baby to the steps for a better view. A parasol peeked out over the
seat of the hired buggy. The driver-for-hire waved as the buggy swayed and
rattled closer.

“Hello, Joe-Joe,” she called. “How are
you?”

“
Doin
’ good,
Miss Cat.”

“How are the children and Dora?”

“
We’s
about to
add another ’
un
to the family.” He beamed with pride.

“Congratulations. And how is Miss Lucy
Tremaine
?”

“Well, Miss Cat, she be gettin’ a mite
fat, I’s afraid.”

Laughter exploded from Cat. “Good for her!
Last time I saw her, that poor girl was barely
skin
on
bones.”

He pulled the reins and the buggy halted.
“I
brung
ya a visitor.”

The lacy parasol shifted as the passenger
stood and accepted Joe-Joe’s help down the steps. When Cat recognized the
woman, her stomach plummeted. “Shaw,” she whispered, “
take
the baby.”

“What’s wrong, Miss Cat?” he asked as he
did shuffled little Daniel into the curve of his neck.

“Mrs. Riley.”

“Who?”

The woman stepped forward as though she
owned every inch of the land. She held her head with dignity and her posture
bespoke a queen granting favors. She addressed Shaw. “As she said, I am Mrs.
Riley. Her lover’s wife.” She turned her gaze to the bundle Shaw held in his
arms.

“May I have a look?”

Shaw angled his body to give her a view.

Her expression softened. “He favors my
husband a great deal.”

Cat finally found her voice. “I think so,
too. May I ask why you are here, Mrs. Riley? I’m sure your visit isn’t to
congratulate me on the birth of my son.”

“How astute. May I hold the child while
your servant carries my bags into the house?”

“Shaw is not a servant. He is a friend.”

“I see. In that case,” she said to Shaw,
“may I ask a favor of you, sir? My bags are going to be left on the ground by
that hired cabbie who assures me that unloading luggage is not included in the
ridiculous fare I paid for the privilege of riding in a buggy that I rather
feared might not make it in one piece.”

“It’d be my pleasure, ma’am.” Shaw handed
the baby to Stuart’s wife without so much as a glance asking Cat’s permission.
Which she most certain would not have
given.
He
ignored her glare.

“Thank you.” Mrs. Riley looked down at
the sleeping boy, and a look of awe smoothed the wrinkles around her eyes.
“He’s wonderful, isn’t he?” she said softly.

“I think so.”

“May I sit with him?”

“Yes, on the bench.”

As she sat, Cat faced her, leaning back
against a pillar. “Would you like to explain your presence now, Mrs. Riley?”

The woman gave a sigh and looked up into
Cat’s eyes. Every nerve in Cat’s body fought to keep from running away in
shame. Summoning her strength, she steeled herself for a battery of verbal
abuse.

“You are beautiful and very strong.” She
smiled sadly. “I can see why Stuart fell in love with you.”

Thank
you
hardly seemed appropriate, so Cat said nothing.

“He will be coming in a couple of days to
meet his child.” She glanced down at the baby. “His son.”

“Does he know you’re here?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Shaw carried the bags up the steps and
stood. “Should I take dese into de house?”

“No.” The harshness in Cat’s tone
resonated across the porch.

“Leave them on the porch.” Mrs. Stuart
smiled. “Thank you for your kindness. Perhaps you will be good enough to be my
escort to a hotel or a rooming house later?”

“If it look like it be necessary,” Shaw
said, his reprimanding gaze on Cat.

She jerked her chin upward. “Thank you,
Shaw. Please leave us alone now.”

A deep scowl marred his face. He turned
to Mrs. Riley. “I be in de barn
iffen
ya be
needin
’ me, ma’am.” He tipped his hat to Stuart’s wife,
then
headed off.
Traitor!

“I have a proposition for you, Catherina
Penbrook.”

“I’m not interested in any proposition
you might have to offer.”

“Then allow me to give you some
information. My husband and I have drawn close once more as husband and wife.”

Laughter found its way to Cat’s throat.
“Come, now, you don’t really expect me to believe that.”

“Regardless, it is the truth. God has a
way of restoring even the most broken of lives, and that’s what He’s done for
us.”

“God?” Cat began to tremble. “What’s He
got to do with Stuart and me?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she said bluntly.
“He does, however, honor marriage, and He has everything to do with my husband
returning to me, heart, soul, and body.”

“If what you say is true, why would
Stuart be coming to take me back to Chicago with our son?”

“I’ll tell you. He intends to offer you
the life you led
before,
only he will not live with
you or become involved with you on any kind of romantic level. You will live in
your house, with the child you bore him, and he will be free to visit any time.
The child will have his name, and you will be well provided for. When your boy
is old enough for school, he will be sent away so that he isn’t treated poorly
for the sins of his parents. You and Stuart will visit him separately over the
years so that no one questions whether or not you are married to his father.”

The idea appealed to Cat more than Mrs.
Riley could have imagined. Except for the thought of her son being sent away.

“That’s what Stuart has in mind?”

She nodded.

“But why would he send you before him?”

“As I’ve said, Stuart doesn’t know I’ve
come.”

“Isn’t deceit a sin?
Shame
on you.
And here you and Stuart are starting over with God’s blessing.”
Sarcasm twisted her lips.

“Be that as it may, I’ve come to plead my
case with you before you speak to my husband.”

“I’m listening.” Cat folded her arms and
watched as Mrs. Riley held her son against her shoulder.

“Frankly, I’d like you to allow Stuart to
bring the baby back alone.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Surely you can see how much better it
would be for any child to be raised in a home with two parents who are married
and in love?”

“Give me my son,” Cat said through
clenched teeth. She yanked the baby away. The quick motion startled him and he
let out a howl.

“Please, listen to reason. If Stuart
brings you to Chicago, how long do you think it will be before he is in your
bed again?”

“Ha! So that’s it. You’re afraid I’ll
take him away from you.”

“Yes. Partly.”

Her honestly silenced any insults Cat
might have thrown.

“Oh, Cat. I’ve seen you with my husband
from time to time, you know.” She smiled. “You have never once had the glow of
a woman in love. And you wouldn’t have stayed away so long if you loved him.”

“There are different kinds of love. I
care for Stuart a great deal.”

“But not the way I do.”

Jealousy burned white hot. Maybe she
didn’t love Stuart the way this woman did, but she had loved. Still loved.
Shaw. Nevertheless, the woman’s soft words filled her with shame. And shame
fueled her anger. “Why should I do as you ask? I could simply keep my son here
at Penbrook. Tell everyone his father died.”

“Would you have your child live a lie?
What if he eventually were to learn the truth? He’d never forgive you.”

The thought of doing the same thing to
her second child she’d done to Henry Jr. caused panic to shoot up from her
stomach and choke nearly all the air from her throat.

Apparently taking her silence for
consideration, Mrs. Riley spoke again. “I am willing to make it worth your
while to do as I ask.”

Cat jerked her head and caught the
woman’s gaze. “You want to buy my boy from me?”

“No. I want you to give him to his father
to raise, and allow me to adopt him as mine. If you do that for me, I will do
something for you.”

Curiosity got the
better of Cat. She frowned. “What?”

Mrs. Riley rose
and walked to her bags. She opened one satchel and pulled out a book.

Cat maneuvered the
baby in order to take the book. When she saw the title on the cover, her jaw
went slack.

The Poems and Prose of C. Penbrook
.
          

She looked up at
the woman. “You’re saying you will publish my works if I give you my son?” A
fierce love for her child rose within her and she dropped the book on the
porch.

Mrs. Riley
retrieved the volume. “No. I know you love your son and wouldn’t give him up
for something so trivial. However, sending him away will create an empty place
in your heart. Writing for publication will keep you occupied. Unless my father
misses his guess, and he rarely does, these will be quite popular sellers.”

“Mrs. Riley, I’m sorry you came down here
for nothing. I can’t give up my son. I’ll fetch Shaw to drive you to a rooming
house.”

Disappointment washed across her
features, but she lifted her head graciously. “I understand.”

Cat snuggled the baby close to her heart
as she hurried down the steps and toward the barn. Tears formed in her eyes and
dripped on the downy head. “Shaw!” Her lips trembled the name.

He came to her without hesitation and
gathered her close. “What dat woman want, Honey? She upset you?”

“She wants me to give up my baby so that
she and Stuart can raise him.” She poured out the whole story, including the
arrangement Mrs. Riley wanted to make.

“Do you think God saved the baby so I
could let Stuart and his wife raise him?”

He rested his chin on her head and stroked
her hair. “
I’s
not de one to be askin’.”

“If not you, then whom should I ask?”

“Honey,
dat
be
somethin
’
ya
gots
to ask de
Lawd
.”

Cat pulled away. “Mrs. Riley is ready to
go into town. And please don’t tell me I should have invited her to stay at Penbrook.”

“I won’t.” He started to leave, then
turned back. “Follow
yo
’ heart, Miss Cat. Ya heard
God’s voice once in a time of trouble. Listen again, an’ He’ll tell ya what His
will be for dat boy.”

For three days, Cat wrestled with God. By
the time Joe-Joe delivered Stuart to Penbrook’s door, she knew what she had to
do.

Camilla ushered him into the parlor,
appearing genuinely happy to see him.

His face lit with pleasure when he saw
Cat. “You are as lovely as the day we met, my dear.”

“And you’re a liar.” She chuckled along
with him. “It’s good to see you, Stuart.”

“And you.” His eyes trailed over her and
Cat realized Mrs. Riley had been right. Stuart might want to do things right,
but she would be more temptation than he could resist.

“Camilla, will you please give me a few
minutes alone with Stuart?”

“Of course.”

Cat waited for her to leave, then stood
and faced her baby’s father. “Stuart, I’ve made a decision. I will not be
returning to Chicago with you.”

He hurried to her side. “Cat, please
reconsider. I need to be in my son’s life.”

“Until he’s five, and then you’d send him
away to boarding school? What kind of life would that be for him?”

Stuart’s gaze darkened. “How did you
know?”

“Your wife was here a few days ago.”

“Sarah?”

“Yes. She told me of your offer to take
care of me, and to send our son away to school. She also told me that the two
of you have renewed your love for each other and that I would have no place in
your life other than the fact that I am your son’s mother.”

Stuart’s face grew red. “It has to be
that way. I’ve committed my life to Christ and living right.”

“I understand. And believe me, I’m
pleased for you. But I can’t accept the life you’re offering.”

Defeat clouded his eyes. “May I see him?”

“Yes, of course. Come with me.”

Cat led him to the nursery. Their son’s
wide-eyed, contented face greeted them. “Well,
lookie
there. I thought you were asleep, young man.” The baby twisted his lips into a
tentative smile at the sound of his mother’s voice.

“He’s my son.” Stuart’s awe-filled tone
sent a tremor to Cat’s heart. She knew her decision was the right one. She
lifted the baby and held him close, kissing the downy head. Then she placed him
in his father’s arms.

“I am giving him to you, Stuart. To you
and Sarah.”

“Y–
you’re.
. .what?”

“I don’t want him to be raised the way
you suggested. That’s no life for a boy. Your wife is a lovely woman. She loves
you, and I’m certain she’ll raise him the way God wants him raised.”

Stuart cradled him close. “What’s his
name?”

“Daniel. Because, as Shaw said, God
pulled him from the lion’s mouth.”

1948

Andy stared at the old lady in disbelief.
“Daniel Riley, the man who raised me, is your son?”

She nodded.

“Does he know?”

“He learned of it when he was grown. His
father told him. Believe it or not, I became friends with Stuart’s wife and
visited often. She raised him remarkably well.”