White Dreams (14 page)

Instead, this room had become for guests. His sister, when she’d come to stay and care for Margaret Mary during her difficult pregnancy, had used the room.

Star was glad to know that Grady’s wife had been like that. Why would any man and wife spend the night in huge separate beds all by themselves when one bed was more than big enough for two?

Grady spoke up. “Don’t hesitate to wake me if you need me. I know this is all strange to you.” After an awkward silence, he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Well, we’d best get to bed. We’ll need to get an early start if we plan to go to the market in the morning as you wanted.”

Don’t leave me alone.
The words tried very hard to burst from her lips, but she held them back. She wasn’t a young child in need of a parent’s comforting embrace during the dark of the night. She was a grown woman.

A
grown woman full of doubts and fears of being alone, especially when nightmares haunted her dreams and visions came unbidden.

She stepped back, forcing herself to be calm. “Yes. It’s late. I’ll see you in the morning.” She watched as Grady left, closing the door behind him. Star pressed her palms against the smooth wood. She’d never spent a night truly alone. This was going to be a long one.

Entering the master bedroom, Grady faced the ghosts of his past. He hadn’t set foot in the room since the day Margaret Mary died.

The maid had turned back his sheets, and a bed warmer sat on the wood stove for him to rub between the sheets before getting into bed. A small lamp on the table beside the bed dispelled the gloom, but not the memories shadowing his mind: Margaret Mary sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing her long red locks, counting the strokes. How he’d loved her hair. In his mind’s eye, he saw himself taking the brush from her hand, drawing the bristles through her hair, using his fingers, reveling in the soft, silky strands flowing over his skin.

She’d turn, smile and beckon him with her eyes. Together, falling onto the bed, they would make sweet, gentle love. After, they’d talk long into the night, her voice, her touch the last thing he’d remember before falling asleep, confident that he’d awaken with her beside him.

But death had stolen her from him, cheating him of so much. Wearily, he approached the bed and took several deep breaths. How could he possibly hope to sleep in that bed? Perhaps he should just go downstairs and sleep in the den.

Taking the lamp, he fled the room, all the while despising his cowardice. Downstairs, he paused, tempted to find a bottle of scotch or brandy to ease the pain coiling inside him. Earlier, in the parlor, he’d been amazed to find his anguish had lessened. But in the bedroom, it’d been too much. His hand closed over a bottle, then opened and fell back to his side. It would be so easy to turn to alcohol for solace, but so wrong. Leaving the den and temptation behind, he strode into the kitchen.

To his surprise, he found Star and Hattie at the stove. Both jumped guiltily when he entered. Then, with a knowing smile, Star poured more milk into the pan. “Would you like some warm milk? I couldn’t sleep, and neither could Hattie.”

Ruefully, he eased down into a chair at the worn table. He should have known both women would have trouble. It had been a stressful day for all of them.

Hattie edged back to the door leading to her room. “I shall go back to bed now.”

Grady stopped her. “Join us, Hattie.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, sir. I can’t. It wouldn’t be proper.”

“I disagree. You are not a servant or slave in my household. You are a guest.” He stood and pulled out two chairs.

Hattie hesitated, then smiled shyly while Star carried over mugs of steaming cocoa. Once seated, the threesome sipped their warm drinks. A slight noise drew three pairs of eyes as the swinging door opened. Renny and Morning Moon stepped into the room.

“What are you two doing up?” Grady asked.

Morning Moon walked over to her mother and put her hand on her arm. “I went to your bedroom and you weren’t there.”

“And I woke up when she did,” Renny added. “We didn’t want Star to be alone ’cause she’s never slept in a room all to herself.” She sniffed and looked longingly at the cups of cocoa.

Star smoothed the hair from her daughter’s face. “You are right. I could not sleep, but I will learn.”

Renny leaned her forearms on the table and swung a leg back and forth. “Maybe we could sleep with you for a few days until you get used to it. Your bed is big enough.”

“Renny…” Grady began.

“No. It’s all right. I’d like that, Wesh—Renny.” Star, proud of using the stove, stood to prepare another pan of warm milk.

With Renny’s sleepy chatter, the tension quickly broke. Soon they were all talking and laughing. Grady sat back and soaked in the love and warmth of each of these people who were now his friends. Laughter had returned to his life.

Margaret Mary, you’d have loved this.
His gaze fell on Star’s sleepy features.
You’d have loved Star, and you’d have championed Hattie.
A sense of lightness suddenly filled him. This night would remind him that new memories were waiting around the corner. Not to replace those of his wife, but to add to those of his life. They were all to be part of the same collection. Some were to be shelved and never looked at; others, like tonight, were to be taken out and remembered whenever loneliness assailed him.

When yawns finally overwhelmed their laughter, they all headed back to their beds. Star and the girls went to her room, Grady to his. This time, though, he forced himself into his bed, grateful as exhaustion took over. Unbidden, his mind filled with images of Star. He fell asleep remembering the feel of her in his arms and the kiss beneath the stars that he should forget but couldn’t.

Sometime in the early morning hours, a weight on his feet woke him. Pushing up on his elbows, he blinked and stared, then smiled. There, curled at the foot of the bed, lay his daughter. She was huddled in a ball, and she moaned, obviously cold. Thankful that he’d worn his nightshirt—in case Star needed him during the night—he slid from the bed, shivering in the cold.

Lifting Renny, he tucked her into bed, on her mother’s side, then climbed back beneath the warm cocoon of heat. Stretching sleepily, Renny snuggled deep. Opening her eyes briefly, the girl murmured, “I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Happiness burst forth and lulled him into a deep, restful sleep.

“What do you mean, she got away?”

In the darkened alley the two men, one tall, one short, twisted their caps between nervous fingers. “She hit Barney and got out of your cellar. We went after her, but she made it to the wharf. When we tried to nab her, she started screaming. Some nosy squaw tried to stop us. We could’a taken care of her, even gotten ya another woman ta sell, but some other gents came along.”

“Damn.” Leo paced. “That woman would have fetched a hefty price on the block.” His body tightened with lust.
After I’d had my fill, of course.
The woman had been pretty and, unlike most women her age, birthing a child hadn’t ruined her body. Leo turned his furious gaze on the men he’d hired to watch over his slaves and help transport them.

“Get her back. The Dragon won’t be happy to learn of this.”

At the mention of the man Leo worked for, the two men backed away, eyes wide. “But we don’t know where the gents took her!”

Leo grabbed one man by the front of his shirt. “Then you’d better start searching.” He twisted his fist in the material, choking the bungler. “And when she turns up, you two idiots will grab her—without attracting attention. Do you understand?”

“Yes, boss… We’ll find her.”

Heading back for the warehouse, lost in thought, Leo nearly ran into the one man he didn’t want to have to face.

“You lost her.” It wasn’t a question.

Leo didn’t bother to make excuses. “She escaped, but we’ll get her back.”

The Dragon came forward, his eyes glittering above the beard concealing his features. “See that you do. That one would have fetched me a nice price.” He handed Leo a slip of paper. “Start your search here.”

“What’s this?” Leo looked at the address on the paper.

“It is where you’ll find my slave. And Leo, she
is
mine. You’re not to touch her.”

Leo held back a protest. Normally, the boss didn’t care which of the women Leo used before they were shipped off to plantations or brothels.

“I want the squaw, too.” The voice deepened.

A bead of sweat trailed down his back. Leo licked his lips and watched the man’s hands to be sure he wasn’t going to go for a weapon. His boss’s temper could explode without warning. He remembered all too well what happened to the last man who’d let down the Dragon. He had been found floating near the landing.

“Get them for me or else.” With that, the Dragon melted back into the shadows and was gone.

Leo stalked away. Furious, he stormed back to one of Baxter’s warehouses and into its office. Hunger drove him. All day he’d pleased himself with plans to enjoy the slave before the Dragon shipped her and the other young women off to a brothel. Now he was left with a raging hunger burning in his groin.
Hester.
She was the answer. He’d go to her. Before he’d gotten out the door, he paused, his mind clearing.

“Damn.” Baxter was back home from his trip. Seeing Hester tonight was out of the question. It was too risky with his boss home.

Leo paused. Maybe not. He was in the mood for danger tonight. Returning to the main part of the warehouse, he tore into some of the sealed boxes and ransacked the office. Then he left, a plan well formed in his head.

Searching, Leo found a lad huddled in an alley with a ratty blanket wrapped tight around himself. Leo kicked him awake.

Scampering to his feet, the lad backed away. “Whaddya what?”

Snagging the boy, Leo kept his face hidden in the deep shadows. “Got a job for you. A message to deliver.”

“Wh-what’s the pay?”

Tightening his hold until the boy struggled for breath, Leo whispered, “Your life. Fail me, and I’ll hunt you down and kill you. Got it?” There was no point in paying street trash when one could intimidate them. The lad nodded and quickly ran off with the message. He would tell Baxter that someone had broken into his warehouse.

After a moment, Leo followed. When he arrived, he saw the old man leaving the house with the boy in tow. Leo slipped upstairs, surprising Hester Mae in bed.

“Leo, what are you doing here? My husband is
home.
”

Need pounded through his veins, along with deep disappointment at not having the newest slave to slake his lust. Leo unbuttoned his pants. “I saw to it that he was called to work.”

He pulled a narrow strip of cloth from his pocket. Hester Mae’s eyes widened. He knew she didn’t like dominance play, but she wouldn’t refuse him. Her old goat of a spouse hadn’t bedded her in years, so she accepted whatever Leo demanded. He was always careful not to hurt or scare her, though. For now. When Baxter died and she married him—and he got all the money—then he would show her what true dominance was.

After gagging her and tearing off her clothing, Leo bent her over the foot of the bed and entered her roughly. As he pounded out his frustrations, her muffled squeals of pleasure drove him over the brink. But his satisfaction didn’t last long. He was a master without a plantation or his own business. He had no power of his own, but soon that would change. Someday, this house and Baxter’s shipping business would belong to him. Then he’d be the boss, and never again would he have to take orders.

As he pulled back, Hester Mae stood and removed the cloth from around her mouth. She stretched her arms overhead and yawned. “You’d better go before Baxter gets back.”

Leo found himself filled with an inexplicable rage. As if he would take orders from a woman! He grabbed Hester, forcing her to her knees, then shoved his still-hard manhood at her. “Who’s the master, bitch?”

Hester Mae gave him a hurt look. “You’ve had your fun, Leo. You know I don’t like it when you act like this. And you know I don’t like to…”

Leo smiled wickedly. “If I leave now, I won’t be back. But it’s your choice, Hester Mae.” Starved for sex and affection as she was, Leo knew she’d comply. She always did.

As her mouth closed around him, he imagined the pleasure he’d get when he was free to make her do what his slaves did. The thought of seeing real fear in her eyes brought him to a violent release. Yes, soon he’d show her and everyone else who was in charge. And if she gave him any trouble, he knew a perfect place to stash her away.

Star woke to ribbons of sunshine streaming across her face. Blinking, she glanced at the windows. Sheer curtains billowed gently inward with the breeze. She’d left the window open before going to bed so she wouldn’t feel so closed in. Rolling onto her back, she stretched out her feet, then pulled them back when she encountered the cold mattress.

She smiled. How quickly she was becoming spoiled. The cold had never bothered her before. Now she snuggled deep in the drowsy coziness of her bed, loath to rise. She gave herself a few precious moments to absorb her surroundings.

Above her, instead of blue sky peeking in through a smoke hole, an ornately detailed ceiling drew her admiration, as did the wall covering in tiny pink roses and green scrolls of leaves. Heavy drapes in a pale pink hue hung to the side of each window, and a darker shade covered the floor. Her gaze followed dancing dust motes as she absorbed her new, plush surroundings.

Rich, gleaming wooden dressers, a large wardrobe, a desk with carved, wooden legs, two chairs and a low table near the fireplace with a white mantel furnished the bedroom. Sitting, she hugged her knees to her chest and rested her cheek on the soft material of a feather-stuffed comforter.

At a soft knock on her door, she called out, “Enter.”

One of the maids, Katie, slipped inside carrying a tray with tea and some sort of sweet pastry. She set it over Star’s lap. “Breakfast will be served in two hours in the morning room, ma’am.” The maid went to the wood stove and stoked it to life, adding a fresh log. Then she filled a teacup with warm water from a large pitcher.

Staring at the tray, Star wanted to protest. Being served in her bedroom reminded her of how the Smiths had been ordered to their cabin to eat in solitude. But after protesting so many unaccustomed actions of the staff yesterday, and facing their looks of horror, then having Renny or Grady tell her this was how things were done, she held her tongue.

Tears of helplessness came to her eyes. She’d talk to Colonel O’Brien later. There had to be something useful for her to do. Unwilling to hurt the maid’s feelings, she sipped her tea and nibbled on a scone while Katie took a gown out of the wardrobe and shook it out in the dressing room.

Star waited until the maid left the room before getting up. She straightened the bedclothes and pulled up the neatly folded white counterpane at the foot of the bed. It was a small rebellion, but one that made her lighter of heart.

With one finger, she traced the large rose motif in the center of the blanket, then went into the dressing room. There she availed herself of the chamberpot behind a screen, then washed, using water the maid had poured into a small bowl nearby. This was one thing she hated: washing from a bowl. Later she’d find out where to bathe. Learning that most people did not bathe often had shocked her. Her own people washed daily, no matter the temperature or weather.

Katie returned to help her dress. It was an arduous process. Feeling exhausted though the day had barely begun, Star made her way to the kitchen, where she found Hattie sitting at the bin table, kneading dough. “Good morning, Hattie,” Star said.

Hattie turned, her movements slow and stiff. “
Bonjour,
Mrs. Cartier.” Hattie bobbed her head.

Star wrinkled her nose at being formally greeted with her mother’s name. “Hattie, I’d like it if you just called me by my first name, Star.”

One of Hattie’s dark eyes widened. The other might have, if it hadn’t still been nearly swollen shut. “Oh, no, ma’am. It wouldn’t be proper.” Her agitation made her accent thicker.

“Is it not my choice what I am to be called?” Star felt annoyed.

Hattie thrust out her lower lip in thought, then winced. It was split in the center, and one of her cheeks was swollen. “Ah!” She shook flour from her hands. “I will address you as Mrs. Star.” She tried to smile, but it turned into a distorted grimace.

Star grinned for her. “That’s better. Now, what can I do to help?”

Thomas, a tall, dour man, the O’Briens’ cook, who was nephew to Charles Manning’s, whirled around, his thick, bushy black brows lifted in horror. Star backed away. “Don’t tell me. I’m not supposed to cook, either.”

Hattie tried to hide her amusement. “Why don’t you go on into the morning room, Mrs. Star?”

“What about you, Hattie? You should rest.”

“Don’t fret, Mrs. Star. I’m just a bit sore and bruised.”

Before Star could suggest she was a bit more than bruised, she found herself gently directed from the kitchen into a bright dining room with sun streaming in through gleaming windows. Wondering what to do, she breathed a sigh of relief when Grady and Charles joined her. Though the two men were of a similar size, and the attorney looked truly distinguished with his silverish brown hair, sharp gaze and neatly trimmed beard, it was Grady who held Star’s gaze enthralled.

The man before her was the same one she’d spent most of her waking hours with during the past two months, yet he was different. He was now dressed similarly to Charles, yet the lack of military attire didn’t lessen his commanding presence. He wore an air of authority with the same ease he wore his new clothes. But it wasn’t seeing him in different garb for the first time that held her breathless and transfixed.

It was his face. She’d suspected that if he shaved, he’d be a handsome man, but she’d had no idea just how attractive. Now she knew. His freshly shaven face was strong, commanding. His features were sharp, yet held an intriguing hint of softness. His jaw jutted out, its line clear, the skin smooth. His chin was square, yet in the center, to her surprise and delight, he had a deep cleft that softened the harshness. An image of her dipping her thumb into that small dimple played out in her mind.

She gripped the towel in her hand tightly to still her trembling fingers. Amazed, her gaze traveled upward, lingering on his cheeks, which were a shade paler than the bridge of his nose and forehead. His gaze was on her and alight with amusement, as if he knew his changed appearance affected her. As it did.

Her pulse sped up. The stark white shirt, neat cravat tied at his throat, and low-cut waistcoat and trousers of the same shade brought out the blue in his eyes and the fire in his hair. He filled the room with a strong, sensual magnetism that made her want to go to him, wrap her arms around his neck and beg him for another sweet kiss.

She’d always found him attractive, but now he was heart-stopping. She stared at his mouth, drawn to him as the dawn must follow the night. Recalling their last night beneath the stars only two nights ago, Star again felt his lips on hers. That night, she’d learned their shape and feel by touch. Now, with no facial hair to hide his mouth, her gaze traced their firm contour at will and recalled how he’d tasted and felt. Deep creases bracketed his mouth, and for just a moment, as if he too was remembering, his lips parted.

Hers followed suit. Her gaze met his, her tongue slipping out to wet her lips. The look in his eyes warmed her already overheated body. There was no doubt he too was remembering their brief but potent kiss.

Grady cleared his throat, broke eye contact and pulled at his collar to direct his lawyer to a chair at the polished cherry-wood table. Then he asked, “Where is Hattie? Is she able to join us?”

Star took several deep breaths to clear her mind. “She’s in the kitchen with Thomas. I was not needed.” She couldn’t keep the hurt from creeping into her tone.

Grady smiled and seated her. “I’ll talk to him. Right now, we have some things to discuss with Hattie. I’ll fetch her.” He returned a few minutes later with the woman in tow. A maid followed with coffee.

“Go ahead, Charles,” Grady invited.

The solicitor took a sip of his coffee and nodded in appreciation. “Strong and hot. Just the way I like it. Thomas was trained well by his aunt.” He turned his attention to the papers before him. Taking the top sheet, he pushed it across the table to Grady. “Hattie is indeed a freed slave. As are her husband and their thirteen-year-old son.” He smiled when Hattie slumped back in her chair with relief. “It wasn’t hard to get copies of the will,” he said gently.

The freedwoman scooted her chair forward and rested her arms on the table. Tears fell from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “I was so afraid no one would believe me.”

“Well, I have new papers for you and your family. And I will also keep a set for safekeeping.” Charles passed an envelope to her.

Star watched as Hattie picked it up with shaking hands. “If she was free and she had papers that said so, why were those men trying to capture her?”

“Ah, Mrs. Cartier,” Charles began. “I’m afraid there are folk who don’t believe people of color have the right to be free. And there are unscrupulous, greedy men who care only for the profit they make when they sell slaves. Unfortunately, these men don’t care whether a man, woman or child is already legally freed. To some people, a human life means only money.”

“That’s terrible!” Star looked at Grady. “What about her husband and son? Can you find them?”

Grady reached over and patted her hand. “I’ll hire the best men to start searching.” His gaze switched to Hattie. “I can’t make any promises, though, Mrs. Dumont.”

Holding the precious papers to her breast, Hattie drew a deep breath. “
Merci,
Colonel O’Brien—for all you’ve done. I will send word to you after I find a place to stay.”

Star gasped. “Hattie! You are not well enough to go anywhere. And where could you go where you would be safe? We can’t allow you to leave and place yourself back in danger.”

“It’s nice of you to be concerned, Mrs. Star, but—”

“Mrs. Cartier is right, Hattie,” Charles began. “There’s a ring of ruthless men who have been kidnapping and selling free slaves to the highest bidder—mostly plantation owners down south. I’ve spoken to the police, and they say that these men are very dangerous. Their leader goes by the name of the Dragon.”

Charles’s eyes grew distant, his voice lowered, filled with pain. “I myself lost a servant several days ago.” His brow furrowed. “The police think he ran away, but he would not have done so. I hired this man fifteen years ago. He was free to quit anytime, and I paid him well. Lord, he was practically a member of my family. Not for one moment do I believe he ran away. I believe he too was a victim of these kidnappers—and I won’t rest until I’ve found him.”

“It’s too late,” Hattie whispered miserably. “You’ll never do it. My husband and son were shipped out two days ago. There are too many plantations to ever find them.”

“Why weren’t you shipped out as well?” Grady asked, drumming his fingers on the table.

Hattie lowered her head and hugged herself, her fingers clenched around the envelope with her papers.

“I was to be sold to a brothel, as were two other women. The men, boys and older women were shipped off to work on a plantation. I don’t know where,” she whispered. She lifted eyes filled with remembered agony and fear.

Grady leaned forward. “Tell us what you can, Hattie.”

Gripping her cup, the woman bit her lip. “The three men in the alley were the ones who grabbed us when we were on our way to Kansas. They took us to a house, I think. I got out by hitting one on the head, but they came after me. I ran then, but they caught me. That’s when
madame
came to my rescue.”

“Can you find your way from the wharf back to the house?”

Hattie shook her head. “I was so scared, I just ran. It wasn’t far from the wharf, but I couldn’t tell you what it looks like. I was blindfolded when I was taken there, and they kept us in a dark, cold basement.”

“I wish we’d taken those ruffians to the police when we had the chance,” Charles said, looking disappointed.

For just a moment, Star remembered the despair and sense of death she’d felt when they’d passed that steamboat a few days ago. She shuddered, fighting the pull of the vision. It wanted to overcome her, to show her—

Grady’s warm fingers slid over her hand and gripped her tightly, keeping her from sliding into the darkness. “What is it, Star?”

Could Hattie’s family have been on that boat? The time was right. Star opened her mouth to remind him of her vision, then stopped herself. What if she was wrong? She’d felt death. Had it been Hattie’s husband or son, or the servant Charles had lost? Or had it been just as Grady had said—a death unrelated to this horrible tale? “Nothing,” she said, smiling weakly. She’d tell him later, in private.

He frowned but didn’t press her. Pulling free from him, she turned back to Hattie. “Until this Dragon is caught, you can’t leave. Stay with us. It isn’t safe for you to be out on your own.”

Hattie’s rich, coffee-colored eyes filled with pride. She drew herself up. “No. I have no money to pay my way. And I will not accept charity.”

Star turned to Grady. “You said you were going to hire a housekeeper.”

Grady looked startled. Across from him, Charles coughed, but then Grady smiled at Star and turned to the freedwoman. “What a wonderful idea. Would you consider employment, Hattie? As Star mentioned, I do need a housekeeper.”

Hattie sat straight, her mouth hanging open. “I’ve never been a housekeeper before.” Awe filled her voice, and hope lit her eyes at the thought of such an honored position in such an elegant dwelling.

“You’ll know more about running a household than I do.” Star grinned. “Tipis are very small and we Sioux have very little. Please say yes, Hattie. You’re the first friend I’ve made since I arrived in St. Louis. I don’t want anyone else.”

The woman smiled slowly, then grimaced with pain. “
Merci,
again. I am honored, Mrs. Star.” She glanced between Charles and Grady. “Are you certain?” At their nods, she rose. “Thank you as well. I’ll go check on our meal, then.”

“That’s settled,” Grady said when she was gone, rubbing his growling belly in response to the smells coming from the kitchen. “Where are the girls? Star, can you go call them?”

Hattie appeared again from the kitchen. “They came in much earlier and ate, then went out to the stable.” A maid followed with a cart laden with steaming platters of pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, toast and many other items Star couldn’t identify.