A Time for Everything (32 page)

Portia shut the door forcefully — some
might have called it a slam. Lydia let out a little yelp,
retracting her fingers just in time to keep them out of harm’s
way.

The nerve of that
woman!
“Don’t take Beau from me,”
Lydia had said. As if Portia were really capable
of such a thing. They were engaged, for goodness sakes. Wasn’t that
confirmation enough? She was too upset to sleep, but made herself
settle under the covers, sitting up so she could read. Hopefully, a
Longfellow poem or two would drown out the residual whine of
Lydia’s pleas.

Hours passed until her head finally
sank onto the pillow. She stared at the darkened ceiling. Lydia
might have been right about a few things, after all. Were Beau’s
feelings for her really based on the guilt he felt over losing his
wife? She had no desire to be a charity case to anyone, especially
him.

Her eyes closed on the memory of how
Beau had jumped in front of that horse and how he had held her when
she cried. Guilt could have accounted for that. But then she
recalled their shared laughter, the way his anger had melted away
during those moments, and how warm his breath had felt when they
had almost kissed. There had to be more to his feelings than that,
even if nothing came of it. There had to be, because…

Don’t even think the
words. Don’t even think…

~~~~

Beau woke to
a horrific scream. He flew off the bed and
grabbed his rifle. Running into the hall, he blinked the sleep from
his eyes. It had come from Portia’s room. Jonny poked his head out
of his door, eyes wide and fearful. Beau shooed him back into his
room as he ran past him down the hall. He didn’t think to knock and
charged inside.

The sun had halfway risen, and in the
rose-gold light, Portia stood there in her nightgown, hair loose
and feet bare. Her hands were clapped over her mouth, while she
stared at the wardrobe and a dress.

Or what used to be a dress.

It now hung in shreds, like a bobcat
took a shine to it and used it as a scratching post.

Without hesitation, he took two
strides and wrapped her in his arms. “What happened?”

She trembled and shook her head
against his bare chest. “I don’t know. I woke up and found my
dress… like this. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Beau realized a little too late that
everyone had gathered outside her door. Including Lydia, who arched
one eyebrow and glared at Portia as though she’d like her to fall
dead at his feet.

He let Portia go and stepped back.
“We’ll find out what happened. Did anyone see or hear
anything?”

Pa, Jonny, Lydia, and Polly all shook
their heads.

“
We should search the
rooms and see if there’s an intruder. Beau, will you please come
with me? I’m so scared,” Lydia said.

“
I’ll look downstairs,” Pa
said.

Beau spotted the rifle in his hands as
the old man eased down the stairs. But his stomach turned
somersaults. Had this been some warning from Oliver to ensure he
carried out his end of the deal? Or something else entirely — with
the rumors of retaliation against coloreds, he couldn’t be sure.
Portia had been teaching Sallie Mae, after all.

Lydia wrapped her arm around his
waist, led him out of the room and down the hall toward the two
unused guest rooms and the attic stairs. Beau looked over his
shoulder to see Jonny pale-faced and trembling outside Po’s room.
Po wrapped her arms around Jonny’s shoulders. Beau couldn’t help a
little smile at how wonderful she was with him. Whoever did this to
her would pay dearly.

He held his rifle ready. Polly stood
against the wall by her room, gray hair hanging in one thick braid
over her shoulder. She had a quilt wrapped around her and scratched
at a spot on her usually-covered neck. It looked plumb raw. Beau
tore his eyes from her peeling skin and searched her room. Nothing
except a laudanum bottle on her bedside table.

That explains the
itching.
He searched Oliver’s former room
and another he and Claire had planned to use as a new nursery
should they have been so lucky. He left Lydia in the hall briefly
and climbed the stairs to the attic. Rifle first, he peered through
the dusty, dim light, walking around forgotten crates and a few
covered furnishings. Nothing.

With Lydia clutching his waist again,
they went back down the hall and reached Jonny’s room. He wouldn’t
hesitate to blow the brains out of an intruder lurking near his
son. Beau peered under the bed and in the wardrobe.

“
Beau, you should see
this,” Lydia said.

He came to where she leaned over
Jonny’s bedside table. A pair of scissors rested in her hands, and
on their blades… white and green threads just like those on
Portia’s dress. Beau lowered the rifle and looked at his son there
in the hall. Jonny started shaking his head. Tears dripped from his
eyes.

Beau took his son’s shoulder in a firm
grip. “Did you do this?”

His answer consisted of more head
shaking and more tears.

“
Damn it, Jonny, answer
me! I know you can talk. For God’s sake, open your mouth and
talk!”

Portia pushed his arm away. “Beau,
please…”

Jonny broke free and bolted down the
stairs. The front door opened and slammed shut again. Portia’s
bottom lip quivered. She quietly returned to her room and closed
the door behind her.

Lydia pulled Beau into the hall. “I
think I know what’s going on.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Really? Enlighten me, then.”

“
He’s rebelling against
authority. I saw it a few times at Hampton’s. He isn’t happy with
the current situation, and I hate to say it…” She ran her hands
soothingly over his bare chest. “But I don’t think Portia’s being
strict enough with him. The boy needs structure, something beyond
what a small town teacher can give.”

Beau started to ask what she meant by
that when he realized they stood in front of Portia’s door. And
Lydia hadn’t exactly been quiet.

“
Come downstairs. “We need
to have a talk,” he said.

Lydia backed away, wrapping her
dressing gown tightly around her, eyes averted from him. “Oh, um,
of course.”

Beau went downstairs to the study. He
poured a shot of whiskey and downed it in one gulp. It hit his
empty stomach with a punch that made him groan. Either his son had
gone mad or he was about to marry one crazy bitch. Neither of those
was a comforting thought.

Lydia sashayed in,
dressing gown hanging wide open, and closed the door. Her thin
cotton nightgown left little to the imagination. He forced his
attention to his desk. A little handwritten book lay there, bound
by pink ribbon, with a note on the cover.
To Sallie Mae, one of the best students I’ve ever had.
Remember that you can do anything you put your mind to. Love,
Po

He set the empty shot glass down,
closed his eyes, and leaned over the desk. “Did you do
it?”

“
What?” Lydia walked to
him and touched his arm.

He shrugged her off. “Did you destroy
Portia’s dress?”

She put her hand to her chest and
batted her eyelashes. “Why do you think I would do such a
thing?”

“
Don’t play games with me,
Lydia.” He balled up his fist and slammed it down on the desk.
“Tell me the goddamned truth!”

“
I did
not
destroy her dress! I’d wring the
neck off a chicken before I’d damage such a vintage
garment.”

“
Then your father did
this, or had it done.”

“
Daddy? Beau, darling, I
know you two don’t see eye to eye, but he’s not that
petty.”

“
Isn’t he?”

“
What do you
mean?”

Questions swirled in her tearful eyes.
He swallowed down the temptation to tell her everything. In utter
frustration, he snatched up his shot glass and hurled it at the
wall. It shattered. Lydia recoiled, taking refuge by a
bookshelf.

“
I’m sorry,” he said,
palms down on the desk, head hanging low between his
shoulders.

After a moment’s hesitation, she
approached him cautiously and gently touched his arm. Her voice
trembled, barely above a whisper. “You know I would never hurt
Jonny. But… is it so hard for you to consider that he might be
unhappy with her? Bessie told Lucy about the snake
incident.”

“
What snake
incident?”

She sighed. “Lucy and I, we talk now
and then. We’re so close in age, after all, and I have no sisters.”
He turned his head and looked at her. She smiled back. “I’m
actually quite fond of her. She told me that Jonny put a snake in
Portia’s bed not long after she arrived. Just a little garter
snake, but enough to give her a scare.”

“
Why didn’t Bessie say
something to me when it happened?”

“
Would you have listened
or done anything about it?”

He wanted to defend himself and tell
her how wrong she was, but was she? He said nothing as he stood up
straight and ran a hand through his hair.

“
This is what I mean.
You’re so worried with everything that you can’t see how your son
might be capable of such a crime.”

“
Not Jonny. He loves her…
and she loves him.”

“
Maybe you’re right, and I
hope you are, because you might soon have a troubled young man to
deal with instead of a boy who can be redeemed.”

Harry came to mind — God forbid Jonny
become another Harry. But Jonny destroying something so special to
Po? He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t. Not his boy. He’d raised
him right… or had he really raised him at all? Between Claire, Pa,
and Bessie, he had never had to worry about Jonny. Then he’d left
for war and missed so much of his son’s short life. And since his
return, with Jonny’s complete silence and the long hours trying to
turn this place around… how much did he really know about his son?
He felt sick.

She turned him to face her and wrapped
her arms around his neck. He didn’t stop her when she pulled him to
her for a kiss. “I’m sorry, Beau. I don’t want to add anymore
burdens to your conscience. Since Mama and I are moving out today,
I’ll get dressed. We can discuss things later.” Her blue eyes had
never shone with such sincerity as her hand slid down to his chest
and rested over his thumping heart. “I love you. I want to be the
kind of wife Claire was to you, and I will, if you’ll open your
heart to me.”

He said nothing but wrapped his arms
around her and rested his chin on her head. Maybe this marriage
wouldn’t be what he had with Claire, but perhaps it could be better
than he expected. But there was still the matter with Jonny and
there was Portia. He could see himself comfortably married to
Lydia, he could work things out with Jonny, but he wasn’t ready to
say goodbye to Portia. For her sake, he had to figure out
how.

But not yet. He owed her a new
dress.

~~~~

Portia dressed
quickly.
She didn’t bother putting up her
hair. Hurrying downstairs, she flung open the door and took off at
a run. She had one destination in mind, and she didn’t stop until
she got there.

Sure enough, Jonny was at the creek,
still in his long johns. She stopped right at the big cedar tree,
leaning on it and trying to catch her breath. He skipped rocks one
after another, but it looked more like an assault on the water. An
angry shout accompanied every throw. Portia eased down the bank and
stopped just beside him.

He glanced her way and kept
throwing.

She picked up a stone. “Remember, it’s
all in the wrist,” she said and flung the rock across the creek. It
skipped once, twice, three times, before coming to a stop on the
opposite bank.

Jonny sank to the ground and cried.
Not worrying about the wet, sandy bank, Portia sat beside him and
wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

“
I didn’t do it,” he
sobbed. “I swear I didn’t.”

Portia took a deep breath and let it
out slowly. “I believe you.”

“
She wants to send me
away,” he said between sobs. “I know I’m not supposed to eavesdrop,
but I heard her talking to Aunt Polly the other day. She wants Pa
to send me away to school. Some military academy. I hate her, Po. I
don’t want to go. I want to stay home. I want to stay with
you.”

He melted onto her shoulder, and she
gathered him in her arms. “I know, sweet boy. I know.”

“
I’m sorry about your
dress. It looked really pretty on you.”

“
It’s just a dress. Things
can always be replaced. It’s the people we love who matter
more.”

She held him, closed her eyes, and
tried to burn him into her memory. Chances are, they would have to
part. But one thing was for sure. She loved this little boy with
all her heart and would fight for him until her last breath if
that’s what it took.

Saturday came, and
the time passed quickly. A mere hour before the
gala, Portia had given up on any notion of attending. She had
worked in the garden all day, weeding and pruning, doing all she
could to take her mind off yesterday’s events. Jonny worked
alongside her the entire time. He didn’t say a word, but she knew
without a doubt he was innocent.