The Color Of The Soul (The Penbrook Diaries) (28 page)

“That’s how you knew you could trust him
when my mother came to you for help on my behalf.”

“I knew Daniel would love you and treat
you as one of his own. He’s always been special.”

“What happened with Henry Jr.?”

Miss Penbrook closed her eyes. “Another
time.”

Andy left the room, his mind buzzing with
excitement despite his lack of sleep. He felt sure he would get the rest of his
answers today, and tomorrow he could be on his way home to his wife.

He went in search of Delta to let her
know Miss Penbrook was alone, but sleeping. He found the housekeeper at the
kitchen table, her face buried in the crook of her arm. Her sobs filled the
room.

Andy crouched down next to her chair.
“Miss Delta, what’s wrong?”

The woman raised her tear-soaked face.
She looked at him with such anguish that Andy felt it himself. “They’ve killed
our little Ruthie.”

“What?”

“Last night. They
was
waiting for ’em. Down at the crossroads. Hung ’em both.”

“Rafe, too?” Andy’s head began to spin.

“Dear God,” Delta moaned. “Why?”

Chapter Seventeen

Andy retreated to his room, unable to
breathe, unable to think, his mind swirling in a black mist.
It could have been me. It could have been
me.

Panic seized him. He had to get away from
this godforsaken place before the Klan came back to finish the job. He couldn’t
remove the mental image of the two of them hanging side by side. It played over
and over, like a scratched record.

He started packing his clothes, with
every intention of leaving Georgia immediately, story or no story.

Delta burst through the door. “Buck was
right.”

“About what?” he asked without stopping.

“He said you’d be
hightailin
’
it outta here.”

“Good for him. He was right.” Andy tossed
the last of his clothing into the suitcase and snapped it shut. “I have a wife
back home who needs me. And I don’t intend to become an evening of sport to a
group of white cowards too afraid to show their faces.”

“Buck also said you’d feel guilty.”
Delta’s gentle tone fed Andy’s raw emotions.

Tears formed in his eyes. “The man
responsible for this is Sam Dane. He hates Rafe and Ruthie because of what
happened between my mother and his father. If he’d never met me, the anger
wouldn’t be so fresh. Rafe and Ruthie would have had a little more time to make
their plans to run away together.”

“Now, you’s gonna stop this right now.
The way that fool Rafe was
flauntin
’ his love for
Ruthie, you’d have thought he wanted to be a target. Or he thought he couldn’t
be a target because his pa’s the sheriff and his brother is a member of the
Klan.”

“For such a secret society, an awful lot
of people know who’s who.”

Andy’s fear mingled with contempt.
For the Klan.
For the blacks who hung
their heads in fear and shame.
For the whites
who
honestly believed they were justified in killing a person for having the
wrong-colored skin. He was leaving this ignorant, mixed-up society and going
home where he belonged, and he’d never return as long as whites reigned
supreme. He grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

Delta blocked his exit. “Just like that?
You is gonna leave?”

“That’s right.”

“What about Miz Penbrook?”

“I have enough to write her story.”

“No, you ain’t. The
las
’
part is the most important. It’s what she’s been waitin’ on.”

“Waiting?”

“Waitin’ to die. If you leaves, she gonna
lose all heart.”

Andy lowered his bag and dropped to the
bed. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “All right.
One more day.
Then I’m gone foe good.”

1880

Camilla stood on the porch and stared at
her husband, without emotion, as he told her he was leaving her.

“There’s nothing left for me here, now
that my son is gone.”

Taking the sharp edge of his words
without feeling the cut, Camilla knew she would survive whatever the future
brought to her.

“I’m going to join my sister and her
family in Texas. Perhaps have a chance at a real life.”

“When will you leave?”

“As soon as the rest of my arrangements
are made. In the meantime, I have procured a room above the saloon. I won’t be
back to Penbrook.”

“I suppose you’ll be wanting a divorce.”

“I already have Mr. Sutter looking into
it.”

Camilla heaved a sigh. “I once believed
that the worst thing that could happen to a woman was living her life without a
husband and children.” She glanced up and captured his gaze. “I imagine being
divorced with no children will probably be worse.”

“You brought it on yourself. Nothing
about our marriage was true.”

“My love for you was real.”

Thomas stared at her silently. “I’m
afraid any affection I felt for you has long since been snuffed out.”

“And I for you, unfortunately.” She gave
a tentative, sad smile. “I wish you well, Thomas.”

She watched him ride away,
then
turned back to the house. Cat hadn’t left her room in
the week since Stuart had taken her son. Shaw brought her food, tried to make
her eat. But Cat’s sorrow would not be consoled.

Camilla knew she was probably the last
person Cat wanted to speak to. Still, she climbed the steps and knocked on
Cat’s door. When no answer came, she twisted the knob and went inside.

Cat lay on the bed, staring out the
window as though in a trance. “Shaw thinks I have to have light,” she said, her
voice flat. “That perhaps the sun shining through my window will lift my
spirits and make me forget that I’ve borne two sons and neither are mine.”

Camilla lifted the coverlet and climbed
into the bed. “Thomas is divorcing me and leaving for Texas. He’s gone for
good.”

Cat reached across the bed and clasped her
hand. “We’re alone again.”

“Not completely. At least we have Shaw to
look after us.”

“Yes, Shaw.”

Camilla angled her head to look at Cat.
“You love him, you know.”

“I know.” Her chest lifted and fell with
a heavy breath. “But it can never be.”

“I suppose not. What will become of us,
Cat?”

Cat turned to her, capturing Camilla’s
gaze. “I suppose we’ll survive. Together. Just like we promised Miss Maddy.”

“Like sisters?” Somehow, the years of
animosity seemed pointless. As she
lay
there, her hand
clasped tightly in Cat’s, the old hatred fell away like leaves in the fall.

“Yes.”

Camilla swallowed hard. “I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“My head hurts constantly. My vision
blurs from time to time.”

A gasp escaped Cat’s throat. “Camilla.”

Camilla felt gratified that she cared. “I
suppose I’ll die the way Mother did.”

“Oh, Camilla. We’ll send you to doctors.
Big-city doctors. Miss Maddy didn’t have the choice. But you do.”

“No. I’ve seen too many already. They
probe and prod, but no one has a cure.”

A tear slid down Cat’s cheek. “I’ll take
care of you. The same way I cared for your ma.”

Camilla tightened her grip on Cat’s hand.
She supposed this was how her mother must have felt when she was dying and Cat
was the only person she had to hold on to. Now that Camilla understood, shame
filled her at the memory of her behavior back then. Without Cat, Penbrook
plantation would have died in the aftermath of the war. Whatever Cat may have
done wrong, she had also done so much right.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For
everything.”

Cat’s fingers curled around hers, and
Camilla knew she understood.

From
Cat’s diary

Cat crawled out of bed while Camilla
snored softly, her cheek resting against the fluffy feather pillow. She walked to
the bureau mirror and smoothed back her hair. She knew the time had come for
her to pull herself together. Camilla would need every ounce of strength Cat
could give her. She stared down at the woman who had been both enemy and friend
since they were barely more than babies. Sadness welled up within her. She
allowed a few tears to slip down her cheeks. Poor Camilla.

1948

Andy spent two days reading, taking
notes, referencing and cross-referencing. Comparing Camilla’s entries to Cat’s.

Camilla had no more entries after Thomas
left. And Cat’s were sketchy at best. The years seemed to slip by unnoticed
until five years later.

1885

Camilla
left me today. I know she’s in a better place and is no longer in pain. I thank
the Lord for this. But I shall miss her terribly. She left
Penbrook
to me. I am humbled.

1886

Stuart
sends word that our son is quite popular among his schoolmates and shows
promising aptitude for his studies. They’ve invited me for the holidays.

The next few years were filled with short
entries detailing Daniel’s life. He and Cat had a special rapport even before
he discovered she was his mother, which grew even stronger afterward.

1897

Word
arrived from Canada. Henry Jr. has succumbed to pneumonia. He was buried last
week. Annie is coming back to Georgia with their little girl, Rae. I’m sure her
parents are overjoyed their daughter is coming home. I ache that I shall never
see my son’s face again this side of heaven.

During entries such as this one, Andy was
able to surmise that Cat had finally made peace with God. Somehow it gratified
him to know this. His own peace with God was fragile at best. Still, he knew
something inside his heart had changed. Softened.

1901

Cat sat at the kitchen table, sipping a
cup of tea. Once she’d preferred the bitter taste of coffee, but
over
the years, her stomach had become sensitive and she
found tea more to her liking.

Her Bible lay open to the Psalms. She
read aloud the words she had come to know by heart: “I will praise thee for I
am fearfully and wonderfully made.” That Scripture always reminded her that God
had created her with a purpose in mind. To be sure, she had gone about things
in a way He’d never intended. Even now, when she was all alone and older than
she’d ever thought she’d become, she had to believe that God somehow had a plan
for the rest of her days.

A quiet knock drew her from her musings.
She looked toward the back door. “Come in.” Shaw filled the doorway. Gentle
affection lifted Cat’s heart at the sight of him. “Good morning, Shaw,” she
said. “I have your coffee ready on the stove.”

She started to rise, but he waved her
back to her seat. “I’ll git it.”

“How’s the harvest coming along?”

He sat across from her and spooned sugar
into his cup. “Fine. I think dis gonna be da best year in a long time.”

“That’s good news.”

His eyes perused her face with affection
and familiarity. “God done blessed dis land, Catherina.”

“Yes, He has.” She looked at the aging
man sitting before her and, not for the first time, imagined that he shared
this house with her. Shared her life. Was free to take her into his arms.
Though time had softened the passion between them, it had deepened their
friendship.
And their love.

A sigh escaped her lips. Shaw reached
across the table and covered her hand.

“Would it really matter now if you and I
got married?” she asked. “After all, what could people do to us at our ages?”

She didn’t expect him to reply. They’d
discussed this more than once over the past decade, but it invariably came down
to one reality.
“You
gots
to think about
yo
’ grandbaby,”
he always said.

Rae’s sweet face came to her mind. Not
really a baby anymore, the ten-year-old girl was the spitting image of little
Henry.

Cat peered into his dark eyes. “Do you
really think the day will come when white folks around these parts will allow a
colored to own land?

“Lot’s of colored folks owns land.”

Cat waved her hand toward him. “Oh, I
know that. But
land like
this.
The
plantation house.
All of this.
Can you even
imagine what the Klan would do if a colored family moved into
Penbrook
? They’d be dead in a night.”

“Well,
dat
mos’
likely true.”

“I’d like to will all of Penbrook to
Henry’s daughter. Perhaps when that time comes, things will be different.”

“Only de Lawd knows
fo
’
sho
’. But ain’t no way she gonna
hab
dat chance
iffen
you and me git hitched.”

She lowered her gaze to their entwined
fingers. “I know you’re right.” But that didn’t lessen the hurt.

At least she could still have morning
coffee and prayer time with Shaw. They’d shared their lives as close friends
over the years since she returned to Penbrook for good. Closer than most
husbands and wives, she imagined, but not able to go for walks together, hand
in hand, arm in arm. They would share their lives in this manner, she imagined,
until one of them died.

1905

I
don’t know what Annie is thinking to allow my granddaughter to marry at
fifteen. But it’s done now. Her husband, Elijah, is a drunkard and a sloth. But
I have given them a cabin on some of the most prime
Penbrook
land, lest my darling Henry’s daughter be left in the cold. Henry would never
approve. If only he were here to look after his little girl.

1910

How
can a human feel such pain and still remain alive? My darling Shaw has
succumbed to a lung infection. He is in the hands of Jesus now. I rejoice for
him, but I weep for my own loneliness. How long must I live without him? I am
not a young woman anymore. I’ve had my share of the good and the bad life can
afford. Shaw was the largest part of the good. I shall count the days until we
are reunited in heaven.

1912

Rae’s
third baby is born. It is only too obvious the boy is not Elijah’s. I’ve had to
bribe the fool to keep his mouth shut and raise little Andy as his own. He will
not harm Rae or her new son if he wants any more money from me.

1917

Daniel
tried to join the army, but he is terribly nearsighted and they didn’t want
him. Praise
be
to God.