Simply Heaven (16 page)

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Authors: Patricia Hagan

BOOK: Simply Heaven
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Selena drew back self-consciously, "They haven't toughened yet. It takes awhile after picking starts."

"You need to wrap those blisters before they get infected."

"Enough about me." Framing her eyes with her hands against the sun, she looked beyond him to Raven. "Who's that you've got with you? Is she the reason you ran off without telling anybody?"

"I'll explain everything later. Right now I want to know about Ned. Is he still alive?"

"Barely, from what the house servants say. The doctor visits every day now; I see his carriage coming and going. Who is she?" She continued to stare at Raven.

Steve put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her on her forehead. "I'll come see you tonight. And when you talk to your pa, tell him I said to let you work indoors from now on."

She snorted. "And he'll tell me to go to hell in a wheelbarrow—if he doesn't give me a beating first." With another curious look at Raven, she walked away.

As soon as Steve got back in the carriage, he asked, "Did you hear? Your father is still alive, so we made it back in time after all."

She did not want to talk about her father. "Who was that?"

"Selena Leroux. She's a friend of mine."

"Why is she working in the fields when she's white? The only other whites I've seen are those on horseback, and you said they were overseers."

"Selena's father is one of the overseers, and he wants all his children to work. There's nothing wrong with that, but she shouldn't be picking cotton in her condition. Ned doesn't even allow the Negro women in the fields when they're expecting babies."

"Then why does her father insist on it? Doesn't her husband have a say?"

"She's not married."

"But—" Raven fell silent. She had been about to ask why Selena was not married when she was pregnant, then decided not to. After all, like everything else on the vast plantation, it was none of her concern. She was merely passing through.

They were almost to the next bend when Steve again yanked back on the reins, this time so sharply that Raven pitched forward and gave a little cry of surprise. But he didn't notice as he dropped to the ground and started walking swiftly toward a man on horseback on the other side of the split rail fence. The man had seen them approaching but, unlike the others they had passed, had turned his back and did not wave. Raven had thought that odd, and now, watching the scene unfold, saw that Steve was angry, and the man was obviously trying to ignore him.

"Masson Leroux, I want to talk to you."

Leroux. Raven strained to hear. He had to be Selena's father.

Masson gave his horse a nudge. "I don't have time."

Steve reached out and yanked him from the saddle to the ground. "Take time."

"Hey, you got no call to do that." Masson scrambled to his feet, fists doubled, face twisted with rage, but made no move to fight. "You coulda hurt me, slamming me down like that."

"And Selena and her baby can be hurt by you making her work in the hot sun every day. You know how Ned feels about pregnant women working the fields."

His mouth twisted in scorn. "Them women aren't having their babies in shame and disgrace. They got husbands. They aren't whores. Nobody cares about whores."

"Selena is no whore, and you know it. She made a mistake, that's all. You've no right to punish her this way."

Masson retreated a few steps, knowing he was treading on dangerous ground but too mad to care. "If you're so concerned about Selena, why don't you marry her and give her bastard a name?"

Neither heard Raven's soft gasp.

"Don't think I'm not tempted, if only to get her away you. If I see her in those fields again, you'll answer to me, you got that?"

Masson forced a sneer of bravado. What he wanted to do was knock Steve on his butt, but he was not about to risk getting whipped in front of all the workers who had stopped to watch. Instead, he spoke loud enough for them to hear. "I take orders from Mr. Ralston, not you. He hasn't give a damn about nothing but those fancy horses of his for the past four years, and we both know it. The last thing he'd care about right now is me making my pregnant slut of a daughter work for her keep, and if you don't like it, you tell him and then let him tell me. Have
you
got
that?"
He glanced to the workers for their murmurs of agreement. They knew if they showed any signs of loyalty to Maddox, they'd feel Masson's whip on their bare backs as soon as the carriage was out of sight.

Steve's hands snaked out to grab him by his throat and lift him up until he was dancing on his toes and clawing at Steve's squeezing fingers, eyes bulging. "Don't let me see or hear of Selena being in the fields anymore. I won't warn you again."

He released him with a shove that sent him sprawling to the ground once more, then turned and went back to the carriage.

He got in, said nothing, and popped the reins. They rolled along in silence for a few moments, and then Raven bluntly asked, "Well, why
don't
you marry her?"

Steve glanced at her, unsure he had heard her right. "What did you say?"

Telling herself she was a fool to ache because another woman was carrying his child, she said, "I asked why don't you marry her? Her father asked you the same question."

"Because it's not my baby."

He said it so simply that Raven found herself believing him and hoped he could not see how relieved she was. "Then why did he say that?"

"It's his way of telling me that if I want to look out for her I should marry her; otherwise, to keep my mouth shut and stay out of his family's business. But she's my friend.... I do try to look out for my friends, but that doesn't mean I have to marry them," he added with a laugh.

"Why aren't you married?" She cursed herself the moment she asked. Now he was looking at her with a twinkle in his eye, and dear God, she didn't care about his personal life at all—did she?

He thought about it a moment. "I could lie and say I've never met the right woman, but the truth is, I've met lots of women who would have made good wives. The fact is, I don't want to be married. I like my freedom. I suppose"—he nodded toward the pasture they were approaching, where Ned's beloved racking horses were grazing—"I'm like a stallion running free that's never been caught or broke. I've still got my spirit. I want to keep it."

"And you believe marriage takes a man's spirit?"

"Absolutely. A woman breaks a man just like a horse and works him to death. If he's obedient to her every command, she rewards him with a pat on the head once in a while. If he resists, she makes him wish he'd never been born. No, thanks. I'll keep my spirit—
and
my freedom. What about you?"

Intent on absorbing all he'd just said, his question took her by surprise. "Me? I've never thought about it."

"Seems to me it would have been a whole lot easier to find yourself a husband to take care of you than pretend to be a boy."

Raven bristled. "I don't need a man to take care of me. I feel the same as you. I'm not willing to give up my spirit, either, and that's what a man expects of his—"

She broke off as they rounded the last bend in the road and Halcyon, in all its stunning glory, came into view.

Wanting her to be impressed, Steve described the true marvel of what she was seeing. "The house is unlike any other in the state. It sits on a brick foundation, and those arches are over twelve feet high. Like the walls, they were plastered and carved by the most expert European craftsmen money could buy. The brick steps are covered with imported marble, and the doorknobs and keyhole guards are made of silver.

"Those columns," he continued, "are called Corinthian in style, and those fancy scroll designs you see all the way to the top are called capitals. There are no windows on the first floor, only narrow doors made of small panes of glass so they can stand open in the warm months and allow the river breeze to flow through the house. There are forty rooms, and those not used for anything else store all the furniture, paintings, tapestries, and other things that Ned's grandfather imported from Europe but never got around to unpacking."

"It... it's three times bigger than the hotel where we stayed last night," she stammered in wonder.

"There's an L-shaped wing out back. The kitchen is on its first floor, the house servants live on the second. The only improvement Ned made to the house itself was to the basement. He was trying to do something about sanitary facilities, so he had a large stone basin to hold water built on the second floor, with a small furnace beneath. Copper pipes run hot water from the basin into the bedrooms when the servants light the furnace. Real nice for shaving." He grinned and rubbed the stubble on his chin.

"So you live there too," she said quietly.

He dared to wonder if she hoped he did. "No. I live above one of the stables. You can see it on the other side of the pecan grove." He pointed.

She told herself to be relieved they would not be under the same roof and changed the subject. "There are so many pretty flowers everywhere."

"Ned loves them. Those vines you see on the upstairs railing are wisteria, but it's the gardens he prizes. There are all kinds of roses and other flowers I can't name, but he can tell you each and every one. There's a grotto with a pagoda and bells, and exotic birds like peacocks. The lagoons are stocked with fish and swans and pelicans, and there's a fenced area for deer and rabbit that are so tame you can pet them. Then there's an area for hunting several miles from here."

Raven thought it all lovely, hut it only served to feed her resentment over how her mother might have enjoyed such grandeur.

Her stomach gave a hungry rumble. She hadn't eaten all day, declining breakfast to keep from being around Steve anymore than she had to. "Do you think we could postpone my meeting my father till after I've had lunch?"

He thought she was just stalling, which annoyed him a bit. "That's up to you," he said coolly. "I'll just introduce you to Julius and Lisbeth. They can see you're fed and then take you up to him."

She did not like that idea at all and quickly changed her mind. "Maybe I can wait to eat... if you'll stay with me," she added hopefully.

He realized then she was just nervous, which was understandable, and he softened. "I'll be glad to, but then I've got things to do, so you'll be on your own. And besides, you've taken up enough of my time."

But Raven was not about to be bested. "Well, it's nice to know you won't be watching me like a hawk anymore, and I can just jump on Diablo and ride out of here any time I want."

"No, you can't," he said matter-of-factly. "Remember? All I've got to do is whistle."

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

Julius and Lisbeth were having lunch on the glass porch, one of their favorite places in the entire mansion. It had been their mother's idea to enclose the veranda outside the formal dining room, where there was a nice view of the river and the gardens. They could also see a portion of the drive, lined with great live oaks, and the lawn, with its checkerboard design that had been achieved by planting different kinds of grass.

The furniture was white-painted wicker with peach and blue floral cushions and a glass-topped table. Baskets of lush ferns and fragrant flowers were abundant, making the atmosphere seem cool, even on a stifling day.

Noting how cheerful Lisbeth seemed, Julius asked, "Do you have a secret I don't know about? Has Barley Tremayne finally proposed?"

"No, but he will," she replied airily. "Actually, I'm happy because Steve's been gone so long, which means any day now he'll be back to tell to Ned he couldn't find that girl."

"I told you there was nothing to worry about." He patted her hand.

Mariah walked in, carrying bowls of fresh peaches for their dessert. She had not only been their mammy when they were babies but had actually run the household ever since Ned had married their mother, for Edith had cared nothing about such responsibilities. She'd left them to Mariah so she could spend all her time socializing instead.

Hearing Julius, Mariah asked, "Who's worried? Is there something going on I don't know about?"

Julius laughed. "Impossible. You know everything."

"I know it might be nice to invite Mr. Barley for Sunday dinner," she said, patting Lisbeth's shoulder as she set down her bowl of peaches. "That young man does love my fried chicken."

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