Liberty Hill (Western Tide Series) (32 page)

“You like coffee, Miss Brennan?” Samuel asked.

“Oh, I do, Mr. Davies.”

He gestured for her to approach the cart, where the woman picked up a tin, held it out towards Evelyn, and opened the lid for her to smell. It was full of freshly roasted coffee beans, still warm to the touch.

“This is Mama Paz,” Samuel explained. “She grows her beans outside the city, where she has a little plantation of banana trees, and the coffee plants spring up under the shade, ‘cause they don’t take well to sunlight. They’s the best beans I ever tasted in my life, Miss Brennan.”

Evelyn cupped the rusted tin between her hands and hoisted it beneath her nose, where she lingered some moments, breathing in the aroma.

“I feel as though I have stepped into a dream,” she told the others.

Samuel chuckled and fished some coins from his pocket, dropping them into Mama Paz’s wrinkled hand. She received them with a toothless grin.

“Then allow me the privilege to make it come true,” he told Evelyn.

She regarded him with pleasant surprise.

“Why, Mr. Davies, you are too generous!”

They thanked Mama Paz and began their return walk to camp.

“I am grateful to have friends and neighbors such as yourselves, ma’am,” Samuel said. “Don’ matter how crowded this place gets. I felt mighty lonesome till last night, when your lot arrived. Seems the color of my skin don’t make no difference to you all, and I am much obliged to repay your respect with what little generosity I have to offer.”

“My father taught me that a fellow man’s prejudice does nothing to elevate him,” Evelyn replied. “If anything, it brings him lower, for he is denying himself the very beauty and strength that mankind, in all its splendorous variety, has to offer. To place oneself in a box is to inhibit growth, but to open one’s heart is to expand one’s mind. I have seen the effects of racial war, as my own race is out of favor with much of the world. My father was stabbed to death by an intolerant American, and Mr. Flynn’s mother was killed by our own people, his family driven from Ireland because of an English bloodline. Racism is a deathly disease, but embracing one’s brother and sister is like embracing life itself.”

She smiled at Josephine then, and reached down to take the younger girl’s hand in her own.

“Isn’t that right, dear one?”

Josephine nodded, and the two women progressed in silence as they recalled the night they had worked together to save Lucius. If bigotry had separated them, he very well might have died.

* * *

Lucius spent the morning attempting to do some reading while Adele looked after Bartholomew, who was in a frightful temperament. Nothing would soothe the child, for Adele had tried everything she knew. He would not eat, he would not listen to stories, he would not lay down to rest. He simply cried and cried, and Lucius felt as though his head might split in two at any moment. He tried to concentrate, but the moment he got his thoughts in order, the child would make some ridiculous screeching sound or another, and Lucius’ thought would be lost. When he attempted to read, he would stare over a page three times before giving up on it entirely and flipping it over to see if there was something more interesting on the following side.

This was not working. He continually glanced at his pocket watch, wondering when the others would return, but time was against him, for it never seemed to move.

He cursed, shutting his book with a loud clap. He looked up at Adele, who was singing and holding up Bartie’s arms in an attempt to make him dance. However, the child’s legs were like India rubber. He just wanted to sit in the dirt and scream.

Lucius put on his best, most absurdly fake smile and said, “Mrs. Whitfield, are you sure there is nothing I can do to help?”

With one hand, Adele pushed a stray curl from her forehead.

“I am utterly spent for ideas,” she replied. “It is rare I do any sort of mothering without Josephine nearby. I am at a loss without her. It is my fervent prayer she returns soon.”

“And mine,” Lucius agreed.

Adele dropped Bartie’s arms and the child slithered onto the ground, where he writhed with a red face and continued to wail.

“Perhaps he will cry himself to sleep,” his mother said with a yearning sigh.

Lucius raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“That’s a capital idea!” he cried, casting another glance at his pocket watch. Inwardly, he was grimacing.

Lucius sat dejectedly upon a rock, his chin cradled in his hand. His books and journal lay abandoned at his side as he stared at the dirt, feeling very sorry for himself. He began to wonder if he should have accompanied Evelyn and Josephine, instead of leaving the matter to their new friend, Samuel Davies. The tall Georgian seemed right enough, but they had only just met. The man could be a villain. What if the girls had not returned because he had made off with them and their money? Lucius began to bite his nails. That was a possibility he had not considered as he cheerfully sent them off.

He scanned the camp once more, picking through the hundreds of men to see Evelyn’s lovely face or Josephine’s white apron. He so longed after this vision that when he actually saw Samuel’s dark countenance standing above the rest, he almost didn’t trust his eyes.

He squinted and looked again.

“There they are!” he announced, leaping from his rock in joy. “We’re saved!”

Adele might have been offended if she was not so
relieved to gain some assistance with the inconsolable child.

“Thank God,” she agreed.

The reunion was pleasant on all accounts. Lucius was pleased with his judgment of Samuel, who proved a worthy assistant; Adele was thrilled when Josephine picked up Bartholomew, whose screams transformed into silent whimpers; Samuel gladly fired up the sausages for a second breakfast, and Evelyn was eager to show Lucius her morning’s prize.

She approached him with a smile, arms crossed behind her back.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” she told him.

Lucius looked at her suspiciously.

“You haven’t got some poisonous spider there, have you?”

“Should I be alive and standing here if I did?”

“I suppose it depends entirely upon whether you could be standing up while dead.”

“Don’t be absurd. I am no specter. Do as I say.”

Lucius closed his eyes, then abruptly opened one.

“No peeking!” Evelyn cried. “It’s a surprise.”

Lucius laughed.

“You don’t say?”

Evelyn shook her head with an exasperated sigh and produced the tin, which she placed in Lucius’ open palms.

“There,” she said. “Open.”

He did so, regarding the old, rusted tin with a dubious expression.

“I see,” he remarked presently. “You’ve found me a bit of rubbish. Are you trying to communicate something, Miss Brennan?”

“Oh, Mr. Flynn!” she cried. “You can be awfully thick, you know. Open it.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“No poisonous spiders?”

“No, but after this silly game, I am tempted to go looking for one. Now behave, or I shall release something frightful into your bed tonight.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked coyly.

Impatient, Evelyn grasped the tin and removed the lid, releasing the coffee’s pungent aroma. Lucius was immediately silenced, as the smell was strong and intoxicating.

“Dear God,” he muttered presently. “That is the most delightful smell.”

“If you behave like a gentleman henceforth,” Evelyn said, “I shall share some with you.”

“A gentleman?” Lucius was displeased. “You ask too much of me. I’m the one with the grinder, remember? You will have need of my services, and my fee shall be one cup per use.”

“Mr. Flynn, I have no qualm with using this lovely tin as a nosegay. My conditions are clearly stated, and if you do not behave, you shall not be permitted any usage whatsoever.”

“Nonsense. Besides, your standards for a gentleman are likely no more than girlish fantasies, unattainable for any true man.”

“On the contrary! You think me too proud, Mr. Flynn.”

“I think you are far too idealistic for your own good.”

“Coming from you, gold digger, I find that accusation laughable. No matter. I shall keep this precious discovery to myself.”

“You are insufferable. Tell me what you expect from a ‘gentleman’, and I shall see if your conditions are achievable.”

“It is really quite simple. I am curious how you acquired so many admirers in the past. You must have done something to make those girls believe you were capable of perfection. As things stand, I’m not so sure you didn’t pay off the lot of them.”

Lucius gasped.

“I am absolutely offended, Miss Brennan. I rightfully earned the affections of every lass I courted.”

“All I ask for is proof. Make me believe you.”

Lucius smirked.

“I hope you realize the danger to which you have willingly submitted yourself,” he told her.

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing,” he shrugged. “But you must guard your heart, Miss Brennan. I take no responsibility for making you fall in love with me.”

“Mr. Flynn!”

“Just remember you asked for this.”

“You are so conceited.”

“I am whatever you want me to be, m’lady.”

Evelyn narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’ve begun, haven’t you?” she asked.

He took her hand and placed the tin on her palm.

“I am only too happy to oblige,” he replied.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 After they had eaten, Samuel gave Lucius directions to the spring while the women gathered their soaps and laundry. They went about their work excitedly, for it had been weeks since they had enjoyed a proper bath.

“Listen for the cannons,” Samuel instructed them as they departed. “They announce when the ships arrive. If you return quickly, you will have a proper chance of gaining passage.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Lucius replied. “I will see that we return as soon as we are able.”

Samuel’s directions led them to a rough, narrow trail, hacked and forged by machete. It was evident the Georgian was not the only man to walk this path, for fresh footprints marked the ground since the last rain. It was everyone’s hope they would be the only visitors to the spring that day, for the women hoped to remove their dresses, and Lucius was easy enough to be rid of. They had no jurisdiction, however, over the locals.

As they walked, Lucius sidled up to Evelyn.

“Did I tell you just how fine you look today, Miss Brennan? I could not help but notice how well this southern air agrees with you.”

“How kind of you to say, Mr. Flynn. Indeed, it is very becoming when a woman perspires with the heat, and when the humidity causes her hair to stand on end. I am so pleased you noticed.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes and lumbered forward, her arms strained with the burden of a heavy wash pile.

“Might I assist you?” Lucius asked.

Evelyn released the load with pleasure.

“I thought you would never ask,” she replied saucily.

Lucius began to think this test was a little unfair, as he and Evelyn had too much history, and she was not generally the type of woman he pursued. She was too innocent, too moral, and too stubborn. Besides, when had he ever courted a female whose full name he knew?

“Must a gentleman seek first to compliment a lady,” he asked, “or provide her with a service?”

“A gentleman must first be of upright character, and all else shall flow from that.”

“So if I genuinely think you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, do I simply blurt it out? Or should I practice propriety and not say a word?”

Evelyn almost forgot she had requested this special sort of treatment. She was not prepared for this sort of wooing. Especially not from Lucius.

She hesitated, fumbling for a reply.

“Well,” she began, “I suppose it depends upon the lady. Words are sweet, but unless they are followed by some sort of action, they lack substance. Every lady wants to hear she is beautiful, but she also wants to
believe
she is beautiful, and that belief only comes when you have proven yourself captivated by what is on the inside, as well as what is on the outside. You may tell her that she is the most beautiful woman in the world, but unless you are intrinsically aware of the beauty within, she will see right through your sentiment and think you are a liar.”

“You are a fair scholar of your own sex.”

“But a harsh one of yours, I’m afraid.”

“I speak on behalf of mankind when I confess we have done you an injustice, Miss Brennan. We have allowed ourselves to be seduced by your enchanting eyes, your noble brow, your radiant hair, and- might I say- your gorgeous neck. We were content to look no deeper. But you are right. Underneath your flawless skin is a tender heart and noble mind, worthy of every bit of attention that has been given to your lovely external form. Thank you for enlightening me. You are a most adequate teacher.”

Evelyn took note of her increase in speed, for her step reflected the quickening of her heart.

Should she thank him? He seemed genuine enough; but Lucius Flynn was rarely genuine. Lucius Flynn was a flirt and a tease, rarely engaging in conversation that was not entirely superficial.

She should make him stop before she came in danger of being flattered.

“You may desist now, Lucius,” she told him.

“Desist what?”

“You know very well what.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

She took one more step and tripped over a protruding root. Lucius reached out to catch her, but she righted herself before allowing him to touch her.

“I’m all right,” she said, flinging herself a step ahead of him and smoothing her skirts.

He struggled to keep up with her pace, but it seemed as though she was trying to lose him. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Adele, Josephine, and the baby were getting further and further behind.

“Miss Brennan,” he called, “we should slow down. The others are having difficulty keeping up, and unless you know exactly where it is we are going, you must not feel as though you need to lead the way.”