The Raging Hearts: The Coltrane Saga, Book 2 (32 page)

“Miss Kitty…” a voice was calling anxiously from that other world, the world she wondered if she were ready for. “Miss Kitty, you need to wake up and drink this pot likker. It’s good and hot, and you need yo’ strength.”

A gentle hand was touching her shoulder, shaking her.

Kitty looked up into Dulcie’s concerned face.

“Thank the Lord you gonna be all right, Miss Kitty. You gave us such a scare. You know you been out of your head with the fever for five days now? Even Dr. Sims said he was afraid. Had us all scared to death, you did. And poor Uncle Jacob, he’s been out of his mind. What time he weren’t down on his knees a’prayin’, he been sittin’ outside the back door a’cryin’. Now you drink this pot likker so you’ll get well.”

“My baby,” Kitty cried. “Little John…”

“He’s just fine.” Dulcie smiled, nodding proudly. “Mistah McRae sent some of his men to pick up him and Jacob, and they brought him back here, and the doctor looked after him. He was mighty sick, but he’s right pert now. Doin’ a lot better than his momma, I can tell you that.”

It was all coming back. Little John was sick. She needed money. The walk through the frozen slush to the road, getting a ride with old Ben. The visit to the tax collector and the shocking news that Corey McRae, the damned vulture, had bought the tax certificate. No money could be borrowed on land that had tax liens against it. Vaguely, she remembered going to General Schofield’s office, only he hadn’t been there, and the man who had given her her father’s army pay said something about leaving town. That was all she remembered.

“Miss Kitty, you gonna drink this pot likker and get yo’ strength back, or you want to lay there and wither away to nothing?” Dulcie was scolding her.

Kitty sipped. The hot liquid was bitter and greasy, but he knew it would give her strength. How many times had she spooned the juice of cooked collard greens and fatback between the lips of sick people she was nursing? A few more swallows, and she did feel better. “No more, not now, please.” She pushed it away.

“Well, Mistah McRae said—”

“Dulcie, why am I here?” Kitty pulled herself up to a sitting position. Dulcie saw that she was still quite weak and quickly set the pot likker aside to prop her up.

“I want to know why I’m here,” Kitty repeated. “The last thing I remember, I was in town. Now I wake up here, in this house that belongs to a man I despise.”

“Well, I don’t rightly know, Miss Kitty,” Dulcie said with wide, frightened eyes. She was not anxious to get involved in the situation. “All I know is Mistah McRae and Dr. Sims brought you here a few days after little John and Jacob was brought.”

“A few days?”

“They say you took real sick in the army’s office in town, and you was too sick to move, so they put you in the hotel till Dr. Sims said you could be brought out here. You been real sick, Miss Kitty, awful sick. Like I said, Dr. Sims wasn’t too sure you was gonna make it for a while. I heard him fussin’ at the mastah for bringing you out here, but the mastah, he say he know you gonna wake up and wonder where yo’ baby was, and he wanted to get you out here so you could be near him. He’s been real concerned about you, he has. He’d come in here and sit for hours and hold your hand and talk to you and beg you to live, Miss Kitty. And you should see the way he carries on over little John. He’s got that boy a’cooin’ and a’laughin’. It’s something to see, for sure.” She laughed, but her merriment faded quickly as she saw the anger in Kitty’s eyes.

“You tell Corey McRae I wish to see him at once.”

Dulcie had been sitting on the edge of the bed, and she moved quickly to her feet. “I told him I was bringing you up the pot likker. He said he’d come in to see you after you ate and had time to see little John.” She was backing toward the door, looking frightened.

“Dulcie, you tell Mr. McRae that I wish to see him at once, and then you start getting my baby’s things together. Tell Jacob we’ll be leaving here in a few hours.”

The Negro girl shook her head from side to side. “No, ma’am, you ain’t able to leave here no time soon. You still not well. Doc Sims, he’s coming by later. You talk to him about that.”

“Dulcie, will you do as I say?” Kitty’s voice rose. “I won’t stay in this house a minute longer than necessary. Now, get John ready and send word to Jacob.”

The door opened, bumping Dulcie, and the pot likker went sloshing to the floor. She bent quickly and began wiping at the spill with her apron as Corey McRae stepped inside the room, a grim expression on his face.

“What is all this screaming about?” He glared down at Dulcie. “I could hear you all the way down the hall. And you were talking like a cotton-patch nigra again, Dulcie. Hugo has instructed you all about how to speak. Don’t let me hear you forget yourself again or you’ll feel the lash. Is that clear?”

“Yassuh.” She jerked her head up quickly. “I mean, yes…
sir
.”

“Now clean up that mess and get out of here. I want to talk to Miss Kitty.”

“And
Miss Kitty
wants to talk to you,” Kitty snapped icily.

Corey crossed the room, smiling warmly. “Oh, Kitty, Kitty, it’s so good to see you awake. You don’t know how worried you have had all of us. You were a sick young woman, do you know that? And little John is anxious to see his mommy. He—”

He touched her shoulder, and she slapped his hand away. “Don’t you touch me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Now what’s all this about? Are you still delirious? I thought you were coming around, my dear…”

“Don’t ‘
my dear
’ me, you…you vulture!”

“Is that any way to talk to a man who saved your life for the
second
time?
And
your baby’s? Kitty, I don’t understand you.”

Glancing at Dulcie, who was still wiping at the spilled liquid, Corey snapped, “Get the hell out of here, girl.”

“Yes…yes sir.” Dulcie nearly tripped in her haste to get out of the room.

He turned back to Kitty. “Now, what is all this about? Why are you so annoyed with me?”

“Oh, don’t put on your act for me, Corey McRae. I know what an unscrupulous thief you really are. I know about your sneaking and buying my tax certificate. Well, if you think you are getting my land, you’re crazy. I’ll see you dead and in hell before you take my land.”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her hands were knotted into fists. Oh, if only she were stronger. Why did she have to be sick? There was so much to be done.

“Kitty, have I tried to take your land?” he asked softly.

“What do you mean?”

“Have I tried to take your land away from you?” he repeated. “Even though I own your tax certificate, have I been beating on your door demanding that you pay me the taxes, plus interest, and told you that if you didn’t pay, you had to get off your land?”

She stared at him.

“Well, have I, Kitty?”

She shook her head.

“Then how can you say I want to take your land away from you?”

“Why did you buy the certificate?”

“To keep Jerome Danton from buying it, of course. He was going by the tax office every day to ask if you had been in to pay your taxes, just waiting for the deadline so he could pay them and do the very thing you accuse me of wanting to do. I have much influence, Kitty, and I made sure that when the deadline came, I was given the first chance to buy your certificate. And I did. But instead of being grateful, you scream accusations at me. How do you think that makes me feel after my going to great trouble and expense to nurse you and your son through a raging fever? You would have died if not for me, and instead of gratitude, you give me contempt. Maybe I should throw you off your land and forget about you.”

She had been listening quietly. His threat did not faze her. Jutting her chin upward, she asked, “Well, why don’t you?”

He had been gazing out the window, but his head jerked around to stare at her incredulously. “What did you say?”

“I said, why don’t you? Throw me off my land, I mean, and forget about me. Why
do
you keep rescuing me and putting me in your debt? What kind of game are you playing, Corey?”

He sat down on the side of the bed, leaning over so that one hand was on each side of her. “You beautiful little fool,” he whispered caressingly, his eyes devouring her. “Don’t you know? Can’t you see that I am in love with you? When I talked of marriage the first time we met, it was a foolish proposal by a lonely man seeking respectability as well as the companionship of a very desirable woman. You were wise to reject me and run away. But now it’s different, Kitty. I have fallen in love with you. I also adore your son. I can’t stand to see you groveling for every morsel of food. I can’t stand to see that boy of yours want for anything. Marry me, Kitty. Let me take care of you. Forget Travis Coltrane the way he has forgotten you. It’s been a year, for God’s sake. You would have heard from him by now. Don’t you realize that?”

He straightened, ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what is to be done with you, Kitty. I can’t understand you. I offer you my heart, my name, my home, my wealth, and yet you turn from me.”

“I don’t love you,” she said quietly.

He turned misery-filled eyes upon her. “Have I asked you to love me? I will
make
you love me, by God. Give me a chance, Kitty. Don’t be a fool and turn down what I offer you.”

“I cannot marry a man I do not love. It would not be fair to you or to me, Corey. It would never work out. We couldn’t be happy.”

He nodded, nostrils flaring angrily. “I see. So you’ll take John and go back to that miserable little shack in the swamps and both of you will probably die of disease or starvation. All because of your
goddamn stubborn pride
.”

He leaped to his feet, face red. “Well, you go right ahead, Kitty Wright. Take your son and go now, if you wish. But don’t expect any more help from me. And don’t expect any charity. I own your tax certificate, and until you can pay me, you can remain on your land and work it as a tenant farmer. I will get sixty percent of the profits.”

“That…that is absurd,” she sputtered in disbelief.

“That is the way tenant farming operates, my dear. Didn’t you know that? I get sixty percent and you get forty percent, and that is
after
expenses. So it will take you quite a while to ever pay off your debt to me. I doubt that you ever will. I happen to be a businessman. Do you think I should just wipe the slate clean and tear up the certificate? Maybe send you another cow? Send a load of food over every week? What kind of fool do you take me for?”

“Corey, I—”

“Maybe I should just sell the certificate to Jerome Danton. Perhaps you would prefer dealing with him instead of me. I doubt that he will ask you to marry him. I am sure he will have another arrangement in mind, without the dignity and respectability of marriage, you may be sure. Shall I send word to him that he may buy your tax lien?”

“No!” She all but screamed the word. “Corey, listen to me.”

“Listen to you?” he bellowed. “Kitty Wright, I have listened to you since the day we met. I have laid my heart at your feet, only to have you laugh and walk over me—”

“I have done neither.”

“I’m through begging.” He started toward the door, then whirled about and pointed a shaking finger. “You are not strong enough to leave today, but if you wish, no one will stop you. Rest assured I will not bother you again. Just be sure that when the time comes, I have my sixty percent.”

He stormed out. Kitty stared after him, lips parted in amazement. She shook her head. Things were happening too fast. The man professed to love her and her son. Was that possible?

Her legs felt weak as she tried to stand. She fell backward in tearful frustration. Flinging her arm across her face, she blinked back the tears. Travis. If only Travis had returned. Either he had never truly loved her, or… She did not want to think of the possibility. Or he was dead. Either way, it was time to face reality.

She was alone. Her land had a tax lien against it. She had a baby. She had no help, only Jacob, who was very old and could not do hard work. She was desperate.

There was a soft rap on the door. Forcing herself back against the pillows and pulling the covers up to her chin, she made her voice steady. “Yes, who is it?”

The door opened slowly. Dulcie stepped in, holding John. “Miss Kitty, Mistah McRae said you might be leaving. He told me to bring the baby in.”

“Yes, oh, yes, let me have my baby.” She held out her arms eagerly, letting the tears stream down her cheeks. She cradled him against her bosom. Kissing his forehead, she smoothed back the dark hair. He opened sleepy eyes to look up at her, then wriggled contentedly. The eyes were still blue, but there was a definite touch of gray, Kitty thought, a stab of longing slashing her heart. Those eyes would be the color of gray smoke one day, and the lashes long and thick, just like his father’s.

She was still holding him, crooning, when she heard footsteps and glanced up to see Jacob standing next to Dulcie, His eyes were brimming with tears. “Missy, you goin’ home?” he asked.

“Yes.” She made her voice firm. “We are going home, Jacob. We’ll survive somehow. We have to.”

“Missy, there’s somethin’ I think you should know.”

Fear shivered up her spine. “Jacob, what is it? Tell me!”