“Subterfuge?” I laughed. “Where did you learn such a word?”
“From books.” Her eyes widened guiltily. “Papa does not like novels, but Deborah’s husband allows her to possess some. She lets me read them.”
My fingers crept to the scar on my left arm, permanent evidence of how much Mr. Pratt hated any book besides the Bible. It was also an unwelcome reminder of what awaited me in his century should my petition fail. I sucked in a deep breath and shook my head against such thoughts, for the terror of that possibility might dissuade me from this task, and I had to press on if I wished to keep Dorcas safe from the tornado. “Do not think of my request as an adventure. The errand is likely to be deadly dull.”
“In a life where little happens, this adventure will be grand.”
When I returned to Mark’s world, the air quivered with the threat of a storm, and the sun hung low in the sky. Umstead Park would be dark before I could cross its wide expanse. It would be safer to return along city streets, a route that would take me longer to bike. I was weary and did not relish the thought.
I had remained with Dorcas for far too long, but I couldn’t be sorry. It had been a joy to be with my dear friend. Nor could I deny a sense of triumph that today’s actions had brought.
As I pedaled on the greenway that wound past Mark’s neighborhood, I reflected on the research that I had completed to support my case. Much hinged on the witnesses who had been present at the beatings and mistreatment that had been a constant companion during my servitude. If the case proceeded as I hoped, it would take a heartless panel of judges to ignore my plea.
There were several weaknesses to my plan. If any failed, I might find myself indentured for many months to Jethro Pratt. My name would not be cleared. The abuse that would follow could be fearsome.
With Senator Eton to assist me, the outcome would be far more likely to favor me. A man’s arguments—regardless of their eloquence and logic—were always heeded better than a woman’s.
If my witnesses faltered, that could damage my position. I worried most about Dorcas, not that her stories would be disbelieved, but that her father would somehow find a way to prevent her from coming on the day required.
Mr. Pratt and Mr. Worth would try to keep me from arriving in Raleigh in time for court. If so, perhaps my case would be pushed to the summer session.
I would seek contingencies for these weaknesses. There was little I could do for the first one other than to pray that my letter to Mrs. Eton was sufficiently persuasive. If she became my advocate, I had no doubt that Senator Eton would be, too.
The other two might be difficult. Mr. Pratt could go to great lengths to keep Dorcas from testifying. I would need to mull over the possibilities and make them difficult to achieve.
Mr. Worth might be anxious to keep me from Raleigh, as his part in my treatment would not look well for him. My best protection from his scheming would be through the goodwill of the townsfolk. The access to that goodwill would most likely come through my brother Caleb.
Yet, whether indentured in Raleigh or returned to serve out my contract in Worthville, I hoped to be available to Dorcas, that I might save her from the ravages of the storm. Unless, of course, we perished together.
I did not intend to let that happen.
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
IX
L
ET
I
T
R
IDE
Gabrielle invited me over after school to brainstorm about a new psychology project. It hadn’t taken long, though. She already knew what she wanted to do. My contribution was to agree—which was fine with me. Psychology wasn’t something I wanted to think about at the moment.
I was willing to ride my bike home, but it looked like it was about to rain. Gabrielle’s driver pulled the SUV up to the front door, I loaded in my bike, and we headed toward my home.
Traffic was heavy on the main roads. As we reached the turnoff for my neighborhood, it began to drizzle.
“See,” Gabrielle said, “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it home in time.”
I nodded and then glanced out the window. A lone biker was pedaling slowly on the greenway, moving past us toward the main drag. The bike was cherry red.
“Stop the car. Now.”
The driver slammed on the brakes.
“What is it?” Gabrielle asked.
I didn’t answer, because I was already out the door. “Susanna?”
She stopped and got off the bike, staring back at me as I closed the distance between us. Behind me, I heard the rear door of the SUV open again. Ideally, I wouldn’t want Gabrielle to witness this, but I could hardly do anything about it now.
I halted a few feet away from Susanna. “What are you doing here?”
“Riding my bike.”
My lips thinned at her smartass response. “Did you just come from my neighborhood?”
She shrugged.
“Why?”
“I am allowed to take my bike wherever I wish.”
“Were you checking up on me?”
“Indeed not. I didn’t go to your house or your street.”
“Then where were you? In Umstead Park?”
Her lips pressed together defiantly.
That would be a yes. “Why were you in the park?”
She shrugged again, except this shrug was different. Too careful. Too casual. Why didn’t she want to answer, unless… “Did you visit Whisper Falls?”
“Yes.”
I moved in closer, lowering my voice. “Did you cross to the other side?”
Color flooded her cheeks. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“So, yes, you did. That’s just stupid.” I had to jam my fists in my pockets to keep from shaking her. “Why?”
“Mark?” Gabrielle called.
I yelled back, “Just a second.”
Susanna’s eyes narrowed on me, her stance tense. “Do you consider Gabrielle to be your girlfriend?”
“I don’t know how to answer that.”
“Yes and no are common responses.”
“Our relationship is complicated.”
“Shall I ask Gabrielle? I suspect she has a simple answer.”
“Shit, Susanna. You drive me insane.”
“I didn’t ask you to speak to me.” When she swung a leg over the bike, it wobbled.
I grabbed the handlebars and held it steady. “You’re wet,” I said, “and it’s about to rain harder. Meet me at the house, and I’ll take you home in my truck.”
“Do not bother.”
Light footsteps approached. Gabrielle wrapped her fingers around my bicep and leaned against me.
“Hello, Susanna,” she said, her voice sweet.
Perfect. The last thing I wanted was the three of us in a conversation. I released the handlebars and took a step back, but I kept my gaze on Susanna’s face.
She bowed her head, her mouth dropping open to suck in a shallow breath. “There you are, Mark. A simple answer. Good-bye.”
The sight of Gabrielle and me together had hurt her. Of course it had. It would make me wild to see another guy touching her.
I didn’t move until she had disappeared around the next corner. She hadn’t looked back, which was no surprise. She never did.
Gabrielle and I rode in silence to my house. When we pulled into the driveway, I pushed out of the car and opened the garage door with my phone.
“I’ll be a few minutes, Garrett,” Gabrielle said. She hurried up the driveway after me.
I stalked into the house, tossed my things on the kitchen table, and crossed to the refrigerator, eager for something to do besides look at or speak to Gabrielle.
“Are you pissed?” she asked from the doorway.
“You think?”
There was a slight hesitation. “
Teen Trash
is already reporting that we’re together. Susanna had to find out sometime.”
“She knew.”
“Then why doesn’t she leave you alone?”
Spinning around, I looked at Gabrielle with narrowed eyes, surprised by the hard edge to her voice. “I’m the one who approached Susanna.”
“She came to your neighborhood.”
“She wasn’t here to see me.” Girls were hard to figure out sometimes. Gabrielle had witnessed the whole thing. She knew exactly how much contact—or lack of contact—I’d had with Susanna. “Maybe you can’t trust Korry, but you can trust me. Don’t go looking for problems where they don’t exist.”
Gabrielle ran to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “You’re right. I should stop worrying.”
I dropped my hands to her shoulders. Gabrielle was nearly as tall as I was. She fit differently against me than… other girls had.
She lifted her lips for a kiss. I stiffened, which must have set her off, because she wound her fingers in my hair and opened her mouth under mine.
I just…couldn’t. I broke the kiss.
She studied me with wide eyes, one hand sliding to my jaw. “How do you feel about me?”
I wanted to groan in frustration. “The DC party was nine days ago. I agreed on Sunday not to contradict the gossip magazines. What do you expect me to say?”
“Love, like, or lust?”
It just got worse. “I don’t know yet.”
“Do we have a chance at being a real couple?”
The transition had been too fast. It had only been a couple of weeks since I’d been with Susanna. I hadn’t gotten over her. Sometimes, it seemed like I never would. This thing with Gabrielle was like role-playing. I’d been handed a scenario, and I was making up the script as I went. Sometimes enjoying the attention. Sometimes watching with complete detachment. Sometimes amazed that Gabrielle wanted to be with me this way. Sometimes guilty that I was having fun without Susanna. Always knowing, in the back of my mind, that I really hadn’t moved on. “Gabrielle, why are you pushing this?”
“I can’t tell—”
The door to the garage opened and my mother walked in. Her eyebrow quirked up in displeasure.
“Hello, Mrs. Lewis.” Gabrielle had on one of her bright, meet-the-public smiles.
Mom gave a jerk of her head. “Hello.” She detoured into the family room, her nursing clogs thudding into the distance.
“Does your mother hate me?”
“She treats all my girlfriends like that. It’s nothing personal.”
Gabrielle smiled at me, only this time, the smile was trembling. “So, I’m your girlfriend.”
I pushed her head to my shoulder, not wanting her to see the reluctance on my face. There was no response that could be completely honest without hurting her. The phrase had slipped out of my mouth without thinking, but it was too late now. It was out there. She’d heard what she wanted to hear.
Probably I should clear this up, but I didn’t have the energy. The scene with Susanna had messed me up. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to think about my feelings. Gabrielle was my friend. I liked her, I liked being around her, and I liked that we fit so well with Benita and Jesse. But I just couldn’t think about where this relationship might be headed. I’d let it ride for now.
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
EVEN
S
HALLOW AND
P
AINFUL
I waited until the afternoon of April ninth to check the cave behind the falls. I wanted to give Dorcas time to make the trip, return, and write me a letter.
My patience was rewarded. There were two letters lodged in the crevice, one in Dorcas’s confident hand, the other far more precise and masculine.
I opened the letter from Dorcas first.
April 9th, 1805
Dear Susanna,
The petition has been filed. Your case will be heard at the April session. Senator Eton has agreed to advise you.
In the end, Papa did not permit me to go to Raleigh. Deborah took the documents instead. She was delighted to perform this mission, for she has greatly admired the Eton family from afar and had longed for an excuse to make their acquaintance.
She returned, quite overcome by the experience. She finds Mrs. Eton to be gracious and lovely. Senator Eton is distinguished and forthright. Deborah also received an introduction to their son, Dr. William Eton, who is on an extended visit from his home in Edenton. Deborah claims that he is as handsome a gentleman as she has ever met.
Senator Eton sent you a note, which you will find along with this letter.
Truly, I am quite bereft that I stayed behind. I cannot understand Papa’s decision. My eighteenth birthday is but three weeks away, and I look forward to it with great relish. I shall be glad to be of an age where I feel less obligation to bend to his will, although, admittedly, without a husband, I shall be in difficult straits if my rebelliousness ever caused Papa to turn me out.
When will you arrive?
With fondest regards,
Dorcas