By Bakerj
Chapter One
The blood that mixed with the saliva from the fangs of the three snarling animals dripped to the ground beneath them. The man at my feet writhed and groaned. I leveled my rifle.
A tree protected my back, and the dogs prowled, looking for an opening. I fired at the feet of one. He backed off fast, followed by another. Made from sterner stuff, the third launched right at me. My finger squeezed the trigger, dropping the animal dead. That was enough for the others. They turned tail and ran.
I took a beat, making sure they’d gone, then dropped to one knee next to the quivering figure curled into a ball.
“It’s all right.” I put my hand on the poor devil’s arm, but he flinched away. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
He wasn’t much to look at. Barefoot, his shabby clothes were ripped and bloodied, thanks to the dogs. Returning to Cochise, I sheathed my rifle and grabbed the canteen. Cupping the head of thick curly hair, I trickled water over the man’s lips. Had shock set in? It wouldn’t surprise me after the mauling he’d taken. But then the large black eyes focused.
“We need to get you to a doctor. Is there a town near here?”
Before he could answer, the sound of undergrowth shifting and twigs snapping drew my attention. Were the dogs returning? I heard voices. A hand clasped my arm.
“I gots to get away, Mistah. I gots to.”
Two men arrived. Both carried rifles, and neither looked happy. When the bigger one saw the dog lying dead, he glared at me. “Did you do that?”
I drew myself up. “It attacked me.”
“Mr. De Lancey won’t be happy. He don’t like losing what belongs to him!” Stepping forward, the big ox sneered at the man on the ground. “Ain’t that right, Enoch?”
I frowned and glanced at the man cowering at my feet. “What d’you mean, belongs?”
“Just what I told you.”
“Quiet, Cobb, you said enough!”
Pushing through the shrubbery came a beautiful white horse, the likes of which I’d only ever seen once before. The man riding it was every bit as fancy in his pristine suit, ruffled shirt, and fedora.
“He killed Satan, Mr. De Lancey.”
“I can see that.” His soft, southern drawl silenced Cobb in a way his shout hadn’t. Behind De Lancey, another man followed, holding the two surviving, snarling dogs in check. Over his shoulder, the man on the horse murmured, “Take them home, Bates. We don’t need them now.”
That still left two men with guns, but my blood was up, and I needed answers. “You set those dogs on this man?”
With slippery ease, De Lancey dismounted. “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. I’m Preston De Lancey the Third.”
He held out his hand encased in an expensive glove worn more for show than work. Three days on the road and overdue a wash and a shave, I wasn’t any spring flower, but I took his hand. “Joe Cartwright.”
“I should explain that Enoch here works for me. I’m afraid we caught him stealing, but before I could hand him over to the sheriff, he ran. You must agree, I cannot let a worker get away with theft?”
“Catching a thief’s one thing, but letting dogs tear him apart?”
“Cobb is my foreman. He can sometimes be a trifle overzealous.”
My glance at the foreman let him know I thought that was an understatement. But we had an injured man, and I needed to make that a priority.
“He needs a doctor. How far’s the next town?”
“There’s no need for that. You’re on my estate, and my house is much closer.”
A hand closed around my ankle and squeezed. I got the message. “His wounds are pretty bad. I can take him straight to the doctor. One of your men could come and see the sheriff.”
“I’ve already sent for the sheriff. I can easily do the same for the doctor. However, I can assure you, Mr. Cartwright, that my staff are well-trained in looking after injuries. He’ll be taken care of, believe me.” When I hesitated, he added, “Why don’t you come? We can see this whole mess resolved, and I can offer you some fine brandy into the bargain.”
Enoch’s face let me know how he felt. But what thief would be happy to be caught, and I couldn’t ignore the blood seeping into the scrub beneath him. He needed attention. I nodded. “If you help him onto my horse—”
“My men have horses. One of them can take him.”
Enoch’s moan when I helped him up mixed pain with despair. I tried to reassure him as I handed him over to be carried away. The whole time, the man never looked anyone in the eye. Had I made a mistake? I hoped not.
The ride back to the house took over an hour. Coming out of the woodland, we first rode past fields filled with golden wheat, rippling like a wave in the light breeze that helped relieve the heat. Fields of barley, oats, and corn followed.
I kept an eye on Enoch. He slumped behind the man he rode with, defeat showing in every part of him. Whatever his fear of being turned over to the sheriff, a few weeks in jail was a hell of a lot better than dogs tearing you apart. I glanced at Cobb leaning back in his saddle with a smirk on his face. What kind of man turned killer dogs loose on a thief? When he arrived, I’d be sure to let the sheriff know he’d done that.
The warm scent of citrus hit me before I saw the patchwork of groves. Orange and lemon trees dripping with bulbous fruit ripening in the sun. Around them, workers toiled with hoes, clearing the irrigation lines that carried the life-giving water. Men, women, and even children scraped away. Barefoot, the women wore bright headcloths, while the men had fashioned hats from straw. All of them were colored, like Enoch. When we passed, I caught some of their gazes flicking our way, but no one paused in their work to watch or ask after the injured man. I turned in my saddle to get a better view of the only white man standing at the edge of one of the groves. Arms crossed and booted feet planted wide apart, he stood and watched the workers. I didn’t miss the whip hanging from his belt.
Cobb’s words about Enoch belonging to De Lancey came back to me. A shiver ran up my spine. I’d seen sketches of the plantations in the South, and what I saw here had that same look. I wasn’t naive. California might have always been a free state, but I knew forms of slavery existed, although mainly among the Chinese. But the Civil War ended slavery for good. To see it here, now, was impossible. Turning my head, I caught De Lancey’s gaze on me, watching my reactions, weighing me up. If Hoss were here, he’d be complaining his thumbs were itching.
To cover my interest, I pointed to the nearest tree. I’d never seen its strange green fruit before. “What’re they?”
“Avocados. Something new. I planted them when I first arrived here.”
“Never heard of them.”
“You will.”
Hills rose behind the orange groves. Again, men and women dotted the landscape, clearing the irrigation channels, but I recognized the low shrubs growing in long rows in the warm sunshine. “A vineyard? You make wine here?”
De Lancey gave me a surprised look. “I do indeed. I even have my own label.” I bet he did. “What do you think of my estate?”
“You’ve got quite a kingdom here.” A term I’d heard leveled at the Ponderosa more than once, it felt grand enough to satisfy even the man next to me. From his expression, I knew I’d hit the mark.
“That’s exactly what the valley is. A thousand acres of my personal kingdom. That’s why I named it The Kingdom.”
The fields and groves gave way to paddocks. Horses and cows milled about, and in one, a small sheep herd gathered under the shade of a sprawling oak tree. Barns and the bunkhouse followed next, and then the house, white and elegant, flanked by stately milkwood trees. Two stories of slatted wood ringed by a balcony at the front recreated the Southern plantation house I’d seen in those sketches.
We rode up the drive toward the lawn laid in front of the house. I’d never seen grass like it. Short, lush, and perfect. This wasn’t here to feed cattle, only to look pretty. What a waste. On one side of the house, nestled a garden of flowers and shrubs. Women were busy watering the plants that would otherwise struggle to survive, and by the pump where they drew the water, a group of small children played in the puddles. The joy on their little faces as they toddled barefoot, splashing about, made me smile.
When we reached the white wood steps up to the double front doors, they were swept open, and a servant in a neat suit stepped out to greet De Lancey. Another appeared around the side of the house and stood ready to take his horse.
The salt and pepper head of hair bobbed as the servant bowed. “Welcome back, Master Preston.”
De Lancey didn’t acknowledge the man. Instead, he spoke to the men still carrying Enoch. “Take him to my study.”
As they carried him past the servant, his eyes flashed to the injured man, but his calm expression didn’t alter. He took the gloves and hat that De Lancey stripped off. “You found Enoch, Master Preston.”
It was a statement rather than a question, but De Lancey answered. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“No, Sir. You always do what you sets out to.”
Instead of entering the house, De Lancey strolled toward the playing children and the women. I watched him speak to one and pat the heads of the other kids. From his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper and then picked up a stick. I tilted my head, fascinated as he formed a little boat and mast and set it in one of the puddles, laughing at the delight on the kids’ faces. But we had an injured man.
“Mr. De Lancey. The doctor?”
“Yes, of course. We can’t neglect Enoch. This way, Mr. Cartwright.” As we walked past the servant, De Lancey added, “We’ll want brandy.”
I followed him through the double doors into a broad hallway. A staircase lay directly in front, and doors faced the hall on either side. One door inched open, revealing a glimpse of a young, slim woman. His wife?
“Preston?”
De Lancey halted for a moment. “Go back inside, Georgina. This doesn’t concern you.”
She didn’t question him. She didn’t say a word but stepped back and closed the door. Entering his study, De Lancey went to sit behind the large, ornate desk that dominated the room before waving me to a padded armchair. I ignored his offer. Enoch had been dumped on a hard-backed chair. I thought he should be in bed, being taken care of, and said so.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of him soon enough.”
From a cut crystal decanter set on a silver tray on top of a spindle-legged table less than three steps from the desk, Noah poured out the brandy. After he set one at De Lancey’s side, the other was brought to me.
“No, thanks.”
Well-trained, he might be, but I caught the surprise in his eyes before he turned to replace the glass on the tray. De Lancey shot me an impatient look and instructed Noah to leave.
“Shall I take Enoch, Master Preston? His bleeding is likely to mess up the chair.”
I’d stepped forward to help Enoch up but stopped when De Lancey snapped out, “No.” He smiled at me and tempered his voice, “Not yet. I need to talk with him first.”
With a bow, the older man withdrew. The whole set-up felt wrong, and I was ready to hightail it out of there, but I wasn’t about to leave until I saw Enoch taken care of.
For the first time, the poor wretch lifted his head, but it wasn’t to me he spoke. “I’m no thief, Master, and you knows it. I’s just tired of living as a slave.”
“What’s he talking about?”
De Lancey looked bored. “Hadn’t you already guessed? He’s my property. I own him and every other slave in The Kingdom.”
My gut feeling had been right. But I didn’t want to believe it. “Are you crazy? The war abolished slavery.”
De Lancey’s fist slammed on his desk, making the inkwell jump. “Crazy! No, Sir! I am not. My family has kept slaves for two hundred years. What gave those Northern politicians the right to interfere with divine will? Men who knew nothing about the South and how we lived.”
I stared into De Lancey’s grey eyes, lit with the fire of conviction. Once, I might have agreed with him about their right to decide, but I’d long since realized the naivety of that belief. “Because it’s wrong.”
“What makes you right and me wrong? I bred them. Fed them. Housed them. Taught them our Christian faith. I’ve done far more than any man does for their livestock.”
“They’re human beings, not animals!”
De Lancey sat back in his chair and gazed at me like I had two heads. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
Time to go. Taking a step back, I drew my gun and covered the two men behind Enoch. “I’m leaving, and I’m taking him with me.”
“No. I don’t think you are.”
My lip curled at this fancy dude with his pomaded hair and frilled shirt. “Who’s gonna stop me? You?”
De Lancey smiled. “Remember the children outside? You take one step beyond that front door, and I’ll have my men shoot every last one.”
I froze. What kind of man was this? One minute, patting kids on the head, and the next, threatening to murder them as casually as ordering a beer.
“He’ll do it, Mister. I knows him. He means it.”
I believed Enoch. “So, what now?”
“You hand that gun to Mr. Cobb and take a seat like I asked.”
I handed over my Colt and walked to a chair.
“Is that true what he says, Mister De Lancey? Are we free?” I stared at Enoch. The beaten soul who’d shrunk into himself, head hanging low, vanished. How he did it, hurting the way he was, I didn’t know, but he sat tall in his chair and looked De Lancey right in the eye. “We ain’t slaves, no more?”
“What a thorn in my side you’ve been, Enoch. Why could you never be content? You should be grateful that I brought you with me from Claiborne.”
“No, Sir. That I ain’t!”
Cobb slammed a fist into Enoch’s jaw. “Shut your mouth!”
His split lip added more blood to his torn flesh, but none of that dented the defiance that shone through Enoch’s eyes. Bit by bit, he rose, and his words rang with the fury of an Atlantic winter storm. “I worked my whole life for you, but I don’t hav’ta do that no more. I’s a free man. Free! You ain’t never sending me back to them fields. I’d rather die!”
“Fair enough.” A crack echoed through the room. I jumped and spun to see De Lancey standing behind his desk. In his outstretched hand was the dueling pistol he’d just fired. Setting it down, he drew the white kerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his hands. “Remove him, Cobb.”
The foreman frowned and hitched his head toward me. “What about him?”
“Did I ask for a discussion?”
“No, Sir.”
I watched them leave the room before turning back to the murderer before me. “You going to kill me, too?”
“Of course not. That would be murder.”
I pointed toward the door through which Enoch’s body had just been carried. “And that wasn’t?”
“That? That was disposing of property.”
My hands curled into fists. “He was a free man.”
“Not under the laws of God and Georgia.”
“That won’t hold up in any court.”
“I am a proud Southerner, Sir. I do not recognize your so-called Union or the laws under which it governs. The North believes it has defeated the South. We will never be defeated. I will return to reclaim my heritage, until then I keep a piece of the South alive here in My Kingdom.”
This man was stuck in another place, another world, which I’d thought a bitter war had ended. I cut to the chase. “Can I leave?”
Easing back into his expansive leather chair, De Lancey picked up the ornate silver paper knife on his desk. He turned it between white hands, with nails that were even and polished like a woman’s. Had he ever done a real day’s work in his life? “Well, there is the little matter of the dog.”
“You want me to pay for the dog?”
“Do you have two hundred dollars?”
“Two hundred! For a dog?”
“Satan was a valuable animal.” He waved the nail file at me. “Here’s what I’ll do. I need workers, men in the fields. I’ll let you work out that debt. Once you’ve done that, you’ll be free to go.”
I could’ve told him I could pay for ten of his overpriced mutts. I could’ve told him who I was—the son of the wealthiest rancher in Nevada—and what that meant. But I didn’t. To De Lancey, I was a drifter riding through with no one to miss me or ask questions. And I knew his dirty secret.
As a witness, I’d earn a bullet in the head like Enoch and a fast track to a markerless grave. But as a drifter, I’d buy what I needed — time to find a way out. Either way, I wasn’t leaving.
I’d seen that the slaves outnumbered their overseers. Once they knew the truth, they’d want out every bit as much as I did. For now, let him think he had a nobody on a rope.
He smiled at my silence. “Now we have that settled, there’s just one little matter to take care of.”
His desk had all the trappings a man like him would have. Sitting next to his ornate ink well was a tiny silver bell. He picked it up. It tinkled, bringing back memories of another bell that summoned a servant.
A girl, maybe fourteen years old, answered the call. Wearing a bright headscarf, like the other women, her plain cotton dress was too large for her slender frame. When she crossed the floor, you couldn’t help but notice her pronounced limp. Stopping in front of the desk, head bowed, hands folded to her front, she asked, “What can I get you, Master?”
“Nothing, right now. I want you to meet someone. Joe, this is Jemima.”
I looked into the face of the confused young woman and smiled. “Please to meet you, Jemima.”
“Yes, Sir,” was all she could think of to say.
“Thank you. That will be all.”
She bobbed her head and left the room.
“You saw the limp?” I nodded. “A broken leg. The recovery left her one leg shorter than the other. Fieldwork would be too difficult for her, so I keep her here in the house where she has work she can manage. She’s a good girl and works hard.”
I frowned. Why was he telling me this? His soft voice continued talking, the words chilling the blood in my veins. “I wanted you to meet because her fate now lies in your hands. If I hear the merest whisper that you’ve tried to tell any of my people about the war or anything else, I’ll hand her over to Cobb and the others. And when they’ve finished, I’ll have Cobb gut her like a fish.” De Lancey laced his fingers and leaned forward across his desk. “And I’ll make you watch. Is that clear?”
My hands clenched into fists. “Crystal.”
When my host called for Cobb, the foreman appeared so fast he must’ve been hanging around outside the door. “Joe will be joining our little family. Teach him the rules.”
Cobb hustled me out of my chair to the door. When we reached it, De Lancey added. “Cobb. I need him fit to work tomorrow. Understand?”
“Yessir.”
***
Chapter Two
Cobb led me from the big house toward the quarters, where the slaves lived in ramshackle huts hidden behind a wood that screened them from the house. But before we reached them, the foreman veered off and pushed me into a small shack, and called in two other overseers. De Lancey’s dogs looked friendlier than these two. They had to know how corrupt this whole place was. I’d get no help from them.
“Boss says we’re to teach Joe the rules.”
Pulling on gloves, they grinned at each other. I guess I was today’s entertainment. I had a choice. Fight or stand there and take it. I wasn’t about to waste the energy and take a heavier beating for pride’s sake.
Fists pounded in the rules like nails into a cage.
Obey without question.
Never look them in the eyes.
Never speak unless spoken to.
Never leave the property.
Cobb’s men knew their job. I was down and hurting, but not so bad I couldn’t work the next day. Not that I gave a damn about that. Lesson over, they dumped me on my knees in another hut.
“This here’s Joe, boys. Make him welcome.” Cobb roared with laughter. He was one funny guy.
The door slammed shut. Two bunk beds were crammed into one end of the cabin, and at the other, a small table filled the space, around which my two new companions sat.
“Welcome to Paradise, friend. You’re gonna love it here,” one sneered and thudded a booted foot on the table, which shook under the weight.
A pair of hands took my arms and helped me stand. The young man helped me to one of the rickety chairs before pushing a battered tin cup into my hand. I drank the water down in one.
“Thanks.”
“I’m Jess. That there is Floyd.”
I glanced from Jess to Floyd, surprised to see white men. “How’d you two end up here?”
Floyd smirked, “Same way you did, I reckon. What’d De Lancey catch you stealing?” Jess ducked his head. Seeing the move, Floyd laughed. The loud, harsh sound set my teeth on edge. “What’s the matter, kid? It’s true, ain’t it?”
“How long have you been here?”
“Almost seven months.”
Shaken, I turned to Jess for his answer. “Three or four months, I reckon.” I wiped my bottom lip. De Lancey really meant business. “Floyd’s right. They did catch me stealing. I offered to work for a meal, but they kicked me out. So, I snuck back and took some food. I shouldn’t have done it. I know that.”
I heard the shame in the kid’s voice. On the Ponderosa, we never turned a hungry man away. If we couldn’t offer him a job, at least he left with a full belly. Reaching out, I placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “Didn’t De Lancey send for the sheriff?”
Floyd snorted. “Sure, I saw the sheriff. De Lancey told him he wanted me to work off the theft, and he agreed.”
I glanced at Jess. “Same.”
“If you’d gone before a judge, you would’ve gotten a fine or a couple of weeks in jail at most.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Floyd snapped.
I pursed my lips. “De Lancey has a neat way of getting new men.”
“So, what did you steal?”
I cut a look at Floyd. “Nothing. His dogs were attacking someone. I shot one.”
Floyd whistled. “I’m surprised you ain’t dead.”
“Guess I got lucky. Unlike Enoch.”
“Who?”
I frowned. After seven months, I thought he’d know most of the workers. “The man I tried to help. Cobb set the dogs on him when he escaped.”
Floyd dropped his leg to the floor and leaned forward. “Wait a minute. You mean, you got caught trying to save one of them darkies?”
“C’mon, Floyd. Those dogs are trained meaner than wolves. They’d rip a man apart bit by bit. Anyone would’ve done what Joe did.”
“You sassing me, boy?”
Jess flinched and shrank back into his seat. I pushed my cup into the middle of the table between them.
“It didn’t help Enoch. De Lancey murdered him.”
“That darkie must’ve really pissed him off. The high and mighty master needs all the slaves he can get. He don’t waste one easy.”
“I guess we’re all slaves here.”
Floyd sat up. “No, we ain’t! I’m a prisoner. Those darkies ain’t the same as us.”
I gaped at Floyd. Even sitting in this crappy excuse for a cabin, a man could still set himself up above another.
Jess shifted. “They ain’t so bad. They feed us, don’t they?” In response to my look of inquiry, Jess continued, “The women make the food for everyone. They bring it to us.”
“Yeah. Should be here by now. Where the heck are they? I’m starvin’.”
“Maybe food’s not all they’re thinking about right now.”
Floyd eyeballed me. Was he about to make something of it? I wasn’t in any condition to take on the big lug, but I’d do my best.
A knock at the door broke the tension, and Jess jumped up to answer.
Two women in plain dresses and those distinctive headcloths came in. One carried a tray of dishes, and the other held a bundle in her hand. I shuffled over to the bunk to give them room.
“ ‘Bout time. A man could die of hunger ‘round here.”
Ignoring the idiot, the woman began to set the food on the table under Jess’s and Floyd’s watchful, eager gazes. The other approached me and unwrapped her bundle. She handed me the tin cup filled with a thick, grainy, moist paste.
“We heard Master got hisself a new man. This’ll help with the bruises.”
I sniffed the concoction. It didn’t smell too bad, kinda like grass. I’d had worse from Hoss. “Thanks. What is it?”
“Yarrow, sage, and poppy mixed in with some corn flour.”
“I appreciate it. I’m Joe.”
Taken aback by my expectant look, she took a moment to answer. “Esther.”
“Pleased to meet you, Esther.” I glanced at Floyd and Jess. Tucking into the food, they weren’t paying any attention to us. “I’m sorry about Enoch.”
Frozen to the spot, she blinked at me. Were my words such a surprise? The other woman touched her on the arm, and Esther moved. “Apply the salve morning and night.”
The tantalizing smell of the food called to me, and I set the mug aside. My bruises could wait.
***
Chapter Three
It wasn’t the thin, lumpy mattress, the airless shack, or the pain radiating from my aching muscles that kept me awake. My mind refused to shut down. Four weeks had slipped by, and I was no nearer escape. My trip to Cole Baxter’s to buy the breeding herd of Aberdeen Angus, Pa had his heart set on, seemed like a year ago. How did I let myself get caught up in De Lancey’s web? But when I’d heard Enochs’ screams and turned Cooch off the road, I never would’ve thought I was riding into a place like this. That stopping to help a man in trouble could derail my entire life.
Ever since that first day, I’d looked for a way to escape. I’d found out the nearest town was Chadstone, and it was within a day’s wagon ride. But that didn’t help me with the problem of how to get there, convince the sheriff about De Lancey’s dirty operation, and get him back with enough men to arrest everyone before De Lancey could carry through on his threats. So far, I pulled a big, fat blank on a solution.
Shifting on my bunk, I thought back to that first night. The pounding I’d received kept me awake until daylight fought its way through the small, grubby window of our cabin. That first morning felt like a lifetime ago, yet every detail was clear as if it were yesterday.
Dust motes danced in the light that eked in. Floyd’s heavy breathing filled the room, and above me, Jess made no sound while he’d lain awake for the last twenty minutes. Was he thinking of escape and home, too?
Three taps on the door announced breakfast. Groaning, I dragged myself to answer. Esther laid out the meal, and as she left, I thanked her.
“What’s with you? You don’t have to thank them darkies.”
My look let Floyd know what I thought about that remark. I dug my spoon into the corn porridge and turned the thick glop over. “No bacon and eggs?”
Missing my sarcasm, Jess replied, “The master don’t believe in feeding us too much meat. He thinks it’ll make us difficult to handle.”
“He’s a real peach, ain’t he?”
Floyd’s harsh laugh bellowed out. I was glad I amused the man.
We’d finished breakfast, and I’d just had time to reapply Esther’s salve when a clanging rang out. It was the bell summoning all the slaves to work, and a sound I’d hear every day from then on.
At the door, Floyd looked back. “You have any problems, Joe, just let me know, and I’ll sort ‘em for you.”
“Thanks.” Maybe I’d been wrong, and this man wasn’t so bad after all. Jess’s hand on my arm held me back until Floyd had left.
“Word of warning. Don’t trust Floyd. He’d sell out his grandma for extra privileges.”
“He do that to you?”
Jess shrugged. “I told him that I’d broken my sickle. Asked if he could help me fix it. I earned a whupping, and he got steak.”
“I’ll remember that. Thanks.”
In a long line, we trudged out to the wheat fields to bring in the harvest. Handed a thick ball of twine, I joined the others walking behind the men with sickles reaping the wheat. Our job was to tie up the bundles they left.
The Kingdom didn’t have a mechanical reaper like we did on the Ponderosa. But this man didn’t need expensive machinery. De Lancey had free labor here to the tune of forty slaves. A big chunk of any operation was paying the workforce. No wonder the Southern plantations had made their owners rich.
Hard work and heat were something I was used to, but asking for water not so much, and the overseers enjoyed the power of being able to refuse. The sweat poured down me. Slick hands made the twine wet. By the end of the day, my fingers bled from where it’d cut into them.
When we reached our cabin, I asked Jess, “Do we have water to wash with? I need to soak these hands.”
Jess handed me a bucket. “There’s a well on the edge of the quarters. D’you want me to show you?”
I told him I could find it and headed out the door.
Jess steered me right. There was the well, and beyond it lay a vegetable patch, which I later found out was where the slaves grew the food they ate.
A line of women and children stood by, waiting their turn to fill buckets. The light-hearted chatter dried up when I joined them, and the small groups that had formed fell apart. They waited in silence. I wasn’t trusted, but I couldn’t blame them. Why should they think I was different from any other white man they’d known?
After I filled my bucket, I walked over to the nearest hut. The man on the stool stopped his whittling as I approached.
“Could you point me in the direction of Esther’s place?”
“Down the end. Two shacks in.”
“Thanks.”
Each of the cabins seemed to house at least five people or a family. I wondered how they all fit into that small space. When I reached the one I wanted, a man stepped out the door. I recognized him as the reaper I’d followed all day, and he must’ve known me.
“What d’you want here?”
“I wanted to speak to Esther.”
For the first time, someone looked me in the eye, and it wasn’t friendly. Drawing himself up to his full, impressive height, he stared down at me and asked, “Why?”
A small pair of hands reached from behind to push him to one side. “Stop your nonsense. You know this here’s the new man.” Stepping out of her home, Esther smiled. “What can I help you with?”
“I just wanted to thank you for the ointment you gave me. It’s fixing me up fine.”
“I’m glad.”
“My name’s Joe.”
“Hello, Joe. This is Isaac.”
“Pleased to meet you, Isaac.” I held out my hand. Everyone froze. Boy, was I stupid. They’d never had a white man’s hand held out to them in friendship before. Withdrawing my hand, I wiped it down my pants. “Sorry. I should’ve thought. It’s dirty.”
“You got cut up on the twine,” Isaac stated.
“Yeah.” I lifted my bucket. “I’m gonna soak them for a while.”
“You stand right there, now, y’hear?” Esther darted back inside and reappeared with another battered cup. “Rub this in. It’ll snap those cuts shut real quick.”
“Thanks … again.” I gave her another smile and left.
My thumbs circled the calluses on my fingertips. Esther’s cream had done the trick, but so far, my plans for escape were going nowhere.
The relentless pattern of work was only broken on one day, and that was today, Sunday. De Lancey was a man who believed in doing things right. So, of course, the good Southern gentleman wouldn’t overlook the spiritual well-being of his people.
We gathered together on the lawn in front of the big house and sat cross-legged to hear his tame preacher.
Standing behind a podium, Preacher Larsen waved that damned bible of his and told the slaves how they were the descendants of Ham. How, if they stayed obedient to their master, their souls would be saved, and they could enter Heaven. This week’s service was the same as always, ending with De Lancey reciting his favorite verse from Ephesians 6:5: ‘Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ.’
Listening to these God-fearing men, I wondered what Pa would think of this twisting of the sacred book to justify the enslavement of other human beings. It made me sick to my stomach.
Behind the good reverend, comfortably seated in chairs, were Cobb and his henchman, and, in front, next to her husband, Mrs. De Lancey. She graced us with her presence, tricked out in her Sunday best. A large, brimmed bonnet shaded her face, and between her dainty, lace-gloved hands, she held a parasol to add further protection. She had the perfect life. A rich husband, money, and servants to do her every bidding. Did she even consider the rows of blank faces in front of her to be people?
***
Chapter Four
Over the next two weeks, the monotonous grind of my existence changed. Instead of twine, they handed me a sickle. I’d been promoted to reaper! Big deal.
Shoving the cornbread into my mouth, I glared at my workmates. They looked at ease, even happy. Why not? They didn’t know any different. But I knew. Hell! They were lucky.
Tearing off my hat, I raked my fingers through my hair. If Hoss were here, he’d kick my sorry, whining ass, and I’d deserve it.
The women passed food to their men, who laughed with their kids. Even here, love and family endured. No one deserved this life, and I’d be damned if I let it continue.
We all paused when the distant clang of the bell rang out. Break over. Back to work.
As I was packing away the tools, Cobb marched up and shoved a bar of soap in my hand. “After you’ve ate, wash up. You’re going to the house tonight.”
Elbows deep in a bucket of water, I watched Floyd pace in front of the cabin. “T’ain’t fair. I ain’t never been asked to the house. Why’d they pick you?”
“What’s it about, anyway?”
“You don’t know?” I shrugged at Jess. “You’re gonna wait on the master and the others at dinner.”
My eyebrows rose. “What’s so great about that?”
“Leftovers. That’s what. I reckon them who wait get their fill.”
That would be something, but De Lancey didn’t seem the type to give a bone to a dog.
Tossing the rough piece of towel down, I slipped my shirt back on and joined the little group waiting for me. We trooped through the wood and approached the low buildings at the back of the house.
Sitting on a bench reading in the little garden, I spotted Mrs. De Lancey. She looked up as we approached, meeting my eyes. Was she the reason for my being here? I didn’t have time to consider the possibilities further. We’d reached the house, and I was about to meet Noah.
The last time I’d stood before this man, I was a guest. Now I was a slave, like him. Only he wasn’t like the other slaves. The oldest slave on the property, Noah, had authority, managing the household and overseeing the staff.
As we filed down the hall next to the kitchen, he stopped me. “You’re Joe?”
“Yeah, and you’re Noah.”
“Mr. Noah, under this roof. Remember that.” When I nodded, he continued, “Follow the others. Find a uniform your size and get changed.”
“Uniform?”
“You ain’t serving Master Preston in those clothes. Hurry now.”
Catching up with the other man, I found him changing into a black suit and white shirt. I did the same. Glancing in the mottled mirror, I frowned. I looked like a fancy waiter from a fancy San Francisco restaurant. On a table by the door lay the final touch to our outfits—a pair of white gloves.
Noah was waiting in the hall for us. The women joined us dressed in black frocks with white aprons. Noah went along the line, checking that everyone looked neat and correct. Stopping in front of me, he asked, “You ever wait at table before?”
“No, Sir.”
A gloved finger came up, and he shook his head. “Mr. Noah. Never, Sir. Sir is for the bosses. Understand?”
The whole situation was ridiculous. Men and women who’d labored all day in the fields dolled up and presented like mannequins, but there was nothing to laugh at in Noah’s face. “Yes, Mr. Noah.”
“You stay close to me and watch what the others do. No serving tonight. You just collect the plates.”
The kitchen lay on the ground floor, attached to the main building, but the dining room was on the first floor. Carrying trays of plates, bowls, and covered dishes, we made our way up the back stairs.
Even in his dining, De Lancey reenacted his Southern upbringing. Vases of flowers, glowing candelabras, sparkling glass, and silverware covered the fine cotton tablecloth draped over the long table.
After being instructed to stand behind a chair like the others, Noah announced dinner was served. De Lancey, his wife, the preacher, and Cobb entered.
This should’ve been an elegant, charming scene. A family enjoying an excellent meal, bathed in soft candlelight. But it was a grotesque farce between liars and the slaves they’d deceived.
That didn’t stop De Lancey from basking in the glow of the opulence. Everything here belonged to him, and entitlement exuded from every pore. He knew I was there. Would he say something? Rub in his position? It didn’t seem so. The only one he acknowledged was Noah. The rest of us were like pieces of furniture.
Is that how those Southern plantation owners had done it? Simply ignored the humanity of the people whose labors made their lives possible?
I couldn’t strip that stupid uniform off my back fast enough, but I made sure to hang it up neatly. Noah walked in. Was it time for leftovers? He let the other man go, so I guessed not.
“Do you think you’ll be able to do service tomorrow?”
“Sure. I watched what they did.” Noah was at least willing to talk to me, and I wanted to make the most of that. When he turned to leave, I added, “Thanks.”
He stopped and looked back. “For what?”
“For helping me. I guess if I’d have messed up, I would’ve been in trouble.”
“If you’d messed up, Master Preston would’ve taken it out on everyone around that table. That’s why I helped you.”
His contempt shook me. Was I just another idiot like the others? Did he think I’d been caught stealing? Turned Enoch over to De Lancey? Would he even believe me if I told him the truth? “Thanks, anyway.”
I moved past him. The others were already leaving, so I followed, keeping my distance. They didn’t want any part of this white boy either.
***
Chapter Five
I couldn’t sleep. Swinging upright, I sat on the edge of my bunk. Maybe some fresh air would help? The coolness rolling over me felt good on my skin. A circuit of the cabin seemed like a good idea, but when I rounded the corner, I ran smack into Mrs. De Lancey.
She caught her breath. “Oh!”
“Sorry, Ma’am.” Stepping back, I ducked my head.
“Joe, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“I’m just bringing Esther some leftover material.”
Why was she telling me this? Did she think I cared? Still, it couldn’t hurt to make friends. I smiled. “That’s nice of you.”
“Everyone needs new clothes.”
“Sure. And the master doesn’t mind you coming down here after dark?”
“Preston doesn’t know.”
“Your little secret?” She bit her lip, and my smile widened. “Don’t worry, it’s safe with me.”
Before I could say more, a dark presence loomed up next to me. Isaac. “Miss Georgina.”
“Hello, Isaac. I’ve brought something for Esther,” she told him and held out the basket she carried.
I caught Isaac’s glare but didn’t move. “I’ll take it, Miss Georgina. You best be getting back.”
“Thank you, Isaac. Goodnight. Goodnight, Joe.”
“Ma’am.”
I watched her vanish into the trees of the woodland that screened the house from us, and then turned to my overprotective friend. “That was unexpected.”
“You canst tell no one you saw her here. You understand?”
“You can count on me.”
The whites of his eyes shone in the moonlight, showing how he stared. I could hear his breathing and felt his bulk move closer. What would Isaac do if he didn’t believe me? My gut tightened, but he grunted. “Good.”
When he walked away, I breathed out and rolled my eyes. I looked back toward the woodland. So Mrs. De Lancey liked to play the benefactress behind her husband’s back. Did bringing scraps of cloth help to salve her conscience?
The searing temperatures climbed, but work never stopped. Today, we had Cobb as overseer, and that was bad news. Making us wait for water was his idea of fun. The bile rose in my throat, watching the hands go up and seeing him shake his head.
“Get up!” My head snapped around, hearing his bellow. The woman behind me had collapsed. Dropping my sickle, I ran to her and went down on one knee. Cobb marched up. “I said, get up!”
“She’s fainted.”
“She’s faking!”
When the bully’s size twelve boots connected with her thigh, I jumped up and put myself between them.
“Let me get some water. That’ll bring her round.”
“I’ll bring her around.”
My hand closed over his arm, stopping the move toward his whip. “Don’t be a fool. How will a beating get her on her feet?”
“Take your hand off me, boy!”
My eyes met Cobb’s. The anger rose in my chest, and I curled my fingers into a fist, but then the soft thud of horses’ hooves caught my attention. Stepping back, I broke my hold and looked around to see De Lancey riding up.
“What’s going on here, Cobb?”
“I got a lazy black and someone who don’t know his place.”
I swallowed the anger I couldn’t afford right now. I needed to talk fast and get my story in before Cobb. “She’s not lazy, Master. She fainted.”
“She’s faking.”
To my surprise, De Lancey cut in, “Not Rachel. She wouldn’t do that. She’s a good worker.”
I saw my chance. “What does Mr. Cobb expect when we’re denied water? It makes no sense in this heat. Thirst slows us all up.”
Cobb waved his hands down the field to the water barrels. “We can’t afford the time having them walk to the water barrels and back every five minutes.”
“Then don’t have us do that.”
De Lancey’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward on his saddle horn toward me. “What do you suggest?”
“Set up water patrols. Give the kids a bucket and ladle. They can take water to anyone who needs it. We won’t have to leave the line to get a drink, and you don’t lose time or workers through passing out.”
De Lancey played with the reins in one hand and mulled over my suggestion. “Why didn’t you think of that, Cobb? Get it done.” Turning his horse, De Lancey looked back over his shoulder. “And give Rachel some water.”
Cobb glared at me as his boss rode away. His top lip curled as he forced the words out through clenched teeth. “All right. Get her the water.” I’d made him look like a fool and gained an enemy.
When he stomped away, I ran for the water. During everything that happened, the work continued, but they’d expanded their spacing to cover the gap I’d left in the line, while others picked up Rachel’s slack. They had their own ways of helping.
Already trying to get to her feet when I returned with the bucket, I urged Rachel back down and pressed the ladle into her hands.
“It’s all right. The master said you’re to have the water.” Her hands shook, but she managed to drink it down. Helping her to her feet, I asked, “You gonna be all right?”
Her nod gave me my answer. I returned to my place and acknowledged the efforts of the men on either side with a quick two-finger salute.
The smiles when I joined the line at the well that evening lifted my spirit.
“Joe?” I turned around to find Esther and Rachel looking up at me. “This here is Rachel.”
“Yes, I know. Hello again.”
The lady took my hand between her small ones. “Thank you for helping me.”
“I was glad I could help.”
Esther asked, “Would you like to join us to eat before you go up to the big house?”
“Sure.”
“That’s decided then. Take your water, and then c’mon right back.”
“Thanks.”
Depositing the bucket, I headed out the door.
“Where you goin’?” Floyd demanded.
“Esther’s invited me to eat with them.”
“What? You gonna eat with them darkies ‘stead of us?”
“You bet.”
It was the best meal I’d enjoyed since arriving, and the evening got even better when they asked me to join them after returning from serving dinner.
Sitting among these good folks, I could almost forget I was a prisoner in this place. Esther’s head rested on the big man’s shoulder, and I smiled at their closeness.
“How long have you two known each other?”
Isaac tilted his head, drawing the word out long and slow. “Well … I remember the first time I saw Esther. I was twenty years old, and she arrived with a new group the old master had just bought. When I saw her, I thought she were about the prettiest thing I ever did see. That were twelve years ago.”
Esther lifted her head to look up at Isaac. “You noticed me that first day? Took you long enough to do anything about it.”
“I’s naturally shy, woman, and you were so full of sass I’s too scared to say anything.”
I chuckled at the playful punch Esther gave him. “How long have you been married?”
The pair glanced at each other. “We ain’t exactly married. We ain’t never had no ceremony in a church before a preacher. We just said our words before God.”
“Sounds married to me.”
Esther smiled, and Isaac leaned down to kiss her. I bit my bottom lip. What if I told them the truth? Maybe, slowly, bit by bit, everyone could be let in on the secret. Then we’d all work together to get out of here.
“Have you never thought of a life outside this place? Chadstone’s a day’s ride away. If you escaped—”
“What good would that do? So, we make it to town? Ain’t no one gonna help runaways. There’s laws against that. And someone’s always ready to hand slaves in for the reward the master will give them.”
I ran a hand down my face. Of course, Isaac wouldn’t know that those laws didn’t exist anymore. “But if you could?”
“I’s seen what they did to runaways at the old plantation. Locked them into spiked collars so they could never lie down to sleep. One time, the master took a hot iron and branded a fella right into his cheek, and another who was screaming for mercy got his tongue cut out.” Isaac’s arm tightened around his wife. “You think I’d risk that happening to Esther or Zach?”
“No.” I shook my head. Of course, he wouldn’t risk his family.
A cry split the air, and Esther murmured, “Zach.” Slipping out from Isaac’s embrace, she headed for their shack.
“Is he all right?” I asked.
Isaac nodded. “The boy has nightmares. He was there when Cobb beat Tobias to death. It shouldn’t have happened. But that man sure loves that whip, and he gots carried away.”
Carried away? My God. Is that what they called murder in places like this? “Zach saw that? Poor kid.”
“He’ll get over it.”
I looked at my new friend. Brandings, mutilation, torture. What in all Isaac’s years of slavery had he needed to get over? “He’s your only child?”
In the light of the fire, sorrow crossed his face, and I kicked myself for asking the question. “Esther were with child when the master brought us here. That were a hard journey. Crammed into wagons and then that ship. Shackled together in the bowels of that beast for days at a time. Never getting a glimpse of the sun or a whiff of God’s good, clean air. It weren’t no wonder she lost the baby. Been no sign of another since.”
Getting up, I laid a hand on Isaac’s shoulder and then returned to my hut.
***
Chapter Six
Cannoned into the wall, Cobb rammed the barrel of his rifle under my chin. What the heck was going on? Called out of the line, I’d followed Cobb into a barn, where two others grabbed me. Pinned by Cobb’s rifle, I stared past the foreman when De Lancey strolled in. Beside him, another man dragged little Jemima.
“I warned you what would happen if you talked to the others.” De Lancey signalled the man holding Jemima, who waved her like bait on a hook. “You have five seconds to convince me why I shouldn’t give her to Cobb.”
Tears streamed down the girl’s face. The only thing keeping the terrified child upright was the brute holding her.
“I ate with them. That’s all.”
Cobb rammed the rifle tighter, digging the metal into my flesh. “Liar! Why would you wanna eat with them ni—?”
“Have you met Floyd?” I spat at him.
The laughter caused both Cobb and me to stare at De Lancey. Head thrown back, amusement oozed from him. “He does have us there, Cobb.”
With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed the man holding Jemima. Pulling out his kerchief, he placed a hand under the trembling girl’s chin. Like a father tending to an injured child, he dabbed away her tears as if he were dealing with a scraped knee. My skin crawled at his soft words, “There, there, don’t cry. I’m sorry we scared you. There’s nothing to fear. Off you go. Back to work now.”
Her foot dragging in the dirt, Jemima limped away as fast as she could. She knew what De Lancey was, and so did I.
The foreman released me. I rubbed my neck, easing out the soreness.
“Very well, Joe. This time, I believe you. But don’t give me any cause to doubt you again.”
I wanted to rip that smooth, southern drawl right out of him, but I kept my eyes down and nodded. “Yes, Master.”
The butt of Cobb’s rifle buried into my belly. My knees hit the floor as sparks danced before me. Planting one palm on the ground and another on my stomach, I fought to draw in air. That soft drawl whispered into my ear. “Just making my point. You understand.”
I hoped my nods were enough of an answer. When De Lancey left the barn, I figured they were. Whatever happened, I couldn’t risk saying a word to the others. I was all alone.
How the heck had De Lancey known I’d eaten with the others? I’d not seen any sign of Cobb’s men near the quarters. I couldn’t figure out the puzzle until I walked into our hut.
From his usual position with his feet up at the table, Floyd grinned. He pulled a napkin from his pocket and revealed a slab of beefsteak. “Guess you’ll think twice before you eat with them darkies again.”
He was wrong. I didn’t think. Instinct drove me. Flying across the room, my hands wrapped around his throat, and I pushed. The chair toppled, slamming Floyd into the dirt floor. My fingers squeezed, and I stared into eyes bulging wide with shock. “You son-of-a-bitch! You do that again. I’ll kill you.”
Easing back my grip, Floyd gathered himself and slapped my hands aside. “No, you won’t. You ain’t no murderer.”
I leaned in close. “Don’t test me.”
Jess followed me out the door. Behind us, Floyd cursed up a blue streak.
I gave the steak to Esther.
***
Chapter Seven
I was happy to be making friends. Joining them around the campfire and listening to them laugh, sing, and tell stories made my days bearable. Good people who’d known only slavery and cruelty, I’d seen proof of that on the men’s backs. Most of the scars were thin and fading, but the sight of Isaac’s ugly, thick, raised marks made me flinch.
They had no idea things could be different, that they were free men and women with the right to leave here and choose their own path. Keeping my mouth shut was hard, too bad. That was the price to get everyone out safe. But I was curious.
Our little group arriving back from the big house was the signal for the mothers to put the kids to bed. Easing down in front of the fire, I watched Esther gather up her son. When they left, I decided to satisfy my curiosity.
“Isaac, when did you all get here?”
“Let’s see.” His gaze lingered on his family returning to their hut. “Zachery was almost two years old when we left the old plantation. So, that’d make it seven years ago.”
Perfect timing for De Lancey, right before the war broke out.
“Did the master sell his plantation in Georgia?”
“Sell Claiborne? Never. Been in their family for more’n two hundred years. He’d never part with that. This here’s new land he bought, and he picked fifty of us to come and work it.”
“Fifty? I hadn’t counted that many.”
“We lost some on the journey. Some died here. We’re all working hard as we can, but we can hardly get the work done, and the master, he ain’t bought a new slave since we arrived.”
Of course not. I began to understand why De Lancey kept Floyd, Jess, and me. It would’ve been safer to kill us, but he needed men in the fields more.
Isaac wasn’t wrong. We worked twelve to thirteen hours a day. The only break was attending those Sunday morning services, but De Lancey had us back out in the fields in the afternoon. His religious observance didn’t extend to a day of rest.
Two years after the war, why was De Lancey still here? The man must’ve known his life was a fantasy that couldn’t go on forever, but I sure wasn’t seeing any sign of that reality setting in.
My idea to bribe an overseer, I abandoned after narrowly dodging a beating when I tried to sound one out. De Lancey’s men enjoyed the positions of power they held. They weren’t about to spoil the sweet deal they had going.
My plans stuck, I faced another evening serving delicious meat to these bastards, and my temper was slipping from my control. Serving De Lancey his plate, it took all my self-control not to dump the food in his lap.
The meal was almost over. De Lancey and Cobb were discussing the start of the grape harvest. In a pause in their conversation, Mrs. De Lancey spoke up, “Preston, I thought I might ask Cook to make Chicken Fricassee for dinner tomorrow. I know it’s your favorite. Would you like that?”
With studied emphasis, De Lancey dabbed his mouth with his napkin and set it down before turning to his wife. “Why do you do that? Why do you always insist on bothering me with your stupid questions?”
“But … I … I only wished to please you.”
“Please me? You? You want to please me?”
De Lancey rose from his seat and, with slow deliberation, walked around the table toward his wife. Her eyes widened, filling with dread as he covered the distance to her. Reaching her side, he leaned forward and stared into her face. She dropped her gaze and turned away. I didn’t blame her.
“If you really wanted to please me, you’d give me an heir. Do you understand? Get pregnant and give me a son, you stupid bitch!”
Eyes squeezed shut, tears escaped from under her lashes. De Lancey straightened up, returned to his seat, and resumed his conversation.
Noah started us clearing the dishes. Everyone carried on as if nothing had happened. So this wasn’t the first time De Lancey had publicly shamed his wife.
No one was looking, and I took my chance. Under the cover of taking her plate, I laid a hand over hers. She started and glanced up. But she didn’t give me away.
My mind was far away from the stories being told in the quarters that night. I’d got the break I needed. The happy marriage had cracked a mile wide, and I’d found De Lancey’s vulnerable underbelly.
The twig I held snapped between my fingers. I tossed it away and excused myself. The good company and warmth that surrounded me weren’t something I could handle right then. I tramped back to my shack. My only question. Could I go through with my plan?
***
Chapter Eight
When I headed out the door to join the others for breakfast, Jess stopped me. “Could I … I mean… d’you think anyone would mind if I came along?”
Slapping him on the shoulder, I told him he was welcome. I looked at my other roommate, hunched over the little table. Why not give the man a chance? “C’mon, Floyd. You don’t wanna eat alone?”
“I ain’t joining them. Leave me be.”
If Floyd preferred to be a loner, I was fine with that. But Jess wasn’t like him. His nervousness soon faded under the warm welcome. I hadn’t seen the kid look that happy since I got here, and he almost had a spring in his step when we marched out to the vineyards.
I’d helped out a few times over at the Rossi’s place, so I knew my way around harvesting grapes. But I didn’t get that job. Within the oppressive heat of a large barn, women crushed the grapes with wooden blocks before loading the pomace into a press. My fun job was to unload the crates of picked grapes and carry them in. It was heavy, tedious work. But I did get a glimpse of the corral and spotted Cooch, which brightened my day.
Carrying stacks of crates, I saw the barrels full of wine being rolled away to be aged. Did any of De Lancey’s wine end up in the restaurants in Virginia City? The thought I may have enjoyed some soured my stomach.
Running a sleeve over my face, I left the barn and looked up to find Mrs. De Lancey standing beside the stacked crates I’d yet to bring in. I dropped my gaze and asked, “Is there something you need, Ma’am?”
“Last night. Why did you do that? Squeeze my hand?”
I glanced around. With the overseer busy inside the shed and the next wagon yet to rumble up, we were alone. “It looked like you needed a friend.”
Her eyelashes flickered, but her gaze didn’t break. “Are you my friend, Joe?”
“If you need one.”
“I heard what you did for Rachel.” A noise from inside the barn startled her. “I have to go.”
“I meant what I said.”
Looking back at me, she smiled. In a flurry of yellow skirts, she disappeared behind the barn and was gone. I grabbed up the next three crates and met the overseer in the doorway. His complaining about the time I’d taken flowed over me like water.
***
Chapter Nine
June gave way to July. I was used to the heat, but the way the drudgery began to feel normal scared me. The Kingdom wasn’t my life, and I’d be damned if I’d let it become that. In the beginning, I tried not to think of home. I had enough to deal with without piling on what I’d lost. But now, I needed to remember what De Lancey had stolen from me.
Thinking about Pa and Hoss kept my fire for freedom alive. I had a life I missed, and I couldn’t give up fighting to find a way out, just like I knew they wouldn’t give up looking for me. I needed that memory to keep me moving forward with my plan.
Even as I brooded over my problems, I still noticed Esther’s absence at dinner time. When I asked Isaac where she was, he told me one of the children was sick.
“Is it bad?”
“Infection has set into a wound, and Esther can’t get her fever down. She’s real worried we’re gonna lose her.”
What could I say? They didn’t have the benefit of someone like Doc Martin. I’d seen the little graveyard behind the vegetable patch. How many times had someone died from a simple infection or fever that the proper care could’ve cured?
When Mrs. De Lancey appeared, I sprang up. What was she doing here? Bringing more cloth, she had no use for?
Isaac protested, “Miss Georgina. You shouldn’t risk coming here.”
“Nonsense. I’ve brought medicine and bones to make broth. Now, take me to Esther.”
Isaac did as he was told. I followed along, hoping for—I didn’t know what, but it was all I could think of to do. Esther let Mrs. De Lancey into the cabin and shut the door on our faces. Exchanging a look, we headed back to the fire.
The door opened, filling the area with warm light from the lantern burning inside. Esther slipped out, followed by Mrs. De Lancey.
“How is she?” I asked.
“She has a chance now.” Esther handed me the empty basket. “Joe, will you walk Miss Georgina back?”
“Sure.” I lifted my hand to show the way. “Shall we?”
Our steps were slow as we picked our way through the trees. We stayed off the well-trodden path. It was unlikely that anyone from the house would be wandering about, but we didn’t want to take any chances.
“How’d you manage to slip away?”
“Preston’s not here. He and Cobb rode into town earlier. They won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“So that’s why we weren’t needed to serve the meal tonight.”
“When Preston goes to town, I prefer to eat alone with a tray in my room.”
“You mean you don’t miss the preacher’s company and all that dressing up?”
She returned my smile and shook her head. “Preston likes all that. He says it’s important to keep our standards and traditions.”
“Traditions mean a lot to the master.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice, and when she shot me a startled look, I added, “Sorry. I shouldn’t talk like that.”
“Yes, you should. And, please, Joe, when it’s just you and me, don’t call him master. His name is Preston.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” I touched my forehead in a mock salute, and she giggled. I liked the sound. Warm and soft like honey.
“And that’s another thing. If we’re going to be friends, you must call me Georgina.”
I stopped so I could look right into her eyes. “We are friends, Georgina.”
Her smile lit up the dusk. Taking her hand, I slipped it through my arm, and we walked on.
“Does Preston often go to town?”
“Every week, usually. Lately, he’s been too busy. He likes to visit the saloon, play cards, and—other things.”
I couldn’t let myself feel sorry for her. Her life didn’t compare to what the rest of us endured day after day. But I said none of that. My goal was to keep her sweet. So, instead, I told her I was sorry.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I make out.”
We’d reached the edge of the woods, and the grey shadow of the house towered before us.
“Thank you, Joe. You’d better not come any further.”
She reached for the basket, but I held on. In the deep shade of the oak tree, we gazed at each other. “Anytime you need to talk, I’ll be taking a walk back there from now on.”
Even in the half-light, I could see the quickened rise and fall of her chest. “I’ll remember that.”
She stepped back and turned in a rush. I let her go. I watched her dash across the grass that slaves had to water and scythe to keep lush and neat. Reaching the house, she tapped on the door. It opened. I couldn’t make out who let her in since the light from inside wasn’t enough to lift the shadows. In an instant, the door closed. So, she had someone helping her in the house as well. Who could that be? Jemima perhaps?
I remained where I was, my gaze fixed on the deep shadows that now engulfed the doorway. Georgina could’ve stayed in her ivory tower, ignoring the suffering around her. Yet she didn’t, and despite her husband’s temper, she risked his anger by helping the people here. Maybe there was more to her than I first realized.
***
Chapter Ten
Georgina’s laugh trilled. “Oh, no. I don’t believe it.”
Arms crossed, leaning against a tree, I let the smile play on my lips. “It’s true. Since that day, Hop Sing always kills two chickens for dinner. One for us and one for Hoss.”
Our friendship had blossomed. I entertained her, keeping her mind off her husband and their troubles, and she told me stories of her childhood, spent on her plantation. An idyllic life surrounded by loving parents, three older sisters, and no knowledge that the people who took care of her were slaves.
“As I grew up, I started to understand. But it was our way of life, and my father wasn’t like Preston and his father. Papa cared about his slaves and was never cruel to them.”
Did every doting Southern daughter believe the same? But my job was to get her on my side, not discuss the realities of slavery. So, I told her I understood.
The first time she’d come, I’d mentioned the scene at the dining table and how I hated seeing De Lancey treat her that way.
“I can’t blame Preston. After almost eight years of marriage and no baby, he’s bound to be disappointed.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”
Georgina sighed. “The one thing I do know is that Preston isn’t the problem.”
I didn’t raise the subject again. Instead, I kept her amused with silly stories of home, like the one that had her laughing now.
Shaking her head, Georgina shot me a look that told me she didn’t believe my tall tale. We were in ‘our place’. A private little clearing away from the house and the quarters, with a fallen tree that provided a handy seat that Georgina was using.
“I think you must’ve been a horrid younger brother.”
I turned to let my back rest against the tree trunk and looked up at the sky, and the same stars that were shining down on Big Brother Hoss and Pa. I hadn’t seen them for over two months. I imagined they’d torn up half the territory looking for me by now. “He never minded my teasing. Hoss is the easiest-going man I know.”
“You must miss him.” What the hell did she think? The honest look of sorrow in her eyes doused the anger that sparked through me. “It must be terrible, missing them.”
This show of sympathy was what I’d been waiting for. “You could help me?”
“How?”
Crossing the space between us, I dropped on my knees and took her hands in mine. “Next time you go to town, you could send a telegram to my pa.”
Her face crumpled. “Oh, Joe. I wish I could, but Preston hasn’t allowed me into town alone since ….” Her words petered off.
“Since what?” Showing my impatience was a bad idea, but this was too important.
She drew a breath. I could feel the despair in it. “Since I went to see the sheriff and told him about what was happening here.”
“What?” It wasn’t a demand but a shocked whisper.
“I’m not a fool. I knew California was always a free state, and Preston keeping slaves here was wrong. But he talked about dispensations that the authorities had given him to bring and keep his slaves, so I wasn’t sure. Then, the war ended, and all slaves were emancipated. I thought, finally, they would be free. I waited six months. When I saw he had no intention of releasing anyone, I went to see Sheriff Tuttle. I told him everything. I begged him to talk to Preston. Tell him to let everyone go.” She slid her hands from mine and got up.
“You wouldn’t believe how excited I felt when he rode up to the house. I thought, at last, the slavery here would end. Only it didn’t. Instead, I received a visit from my husband, who let me know how he felt about a wife who betrayed him. Instead of gaining anyone’s freedom, I ruined any chance of getting it.”
I stayed on my knees, staring at the ground. “The sheriff knows.”
“Oh, yes. The sheriff, the judge. I don’t know how many more. Preston brings a great deal of wealth to the town. Turning a blind eye to what goes on beneath the façade of The Kingdom is a small price to pay for the money in their pockets.”
I dragged myself upright onto legs that no longer felt steady. My plans crashed around me. But I should’ve known when Floyd and Jess told me about De Lancey’s agreement to have them work out their debts. Only a crooked sheriff would agree to that. What do I do now? I had to think, but my thoughts couldn’t find their way through the chaos. Squeezing my hands into fists, I dug my nails into my palms, trying to break through the numbness. I focused on Georgina and forced my words out, “He hurt you?”
Georgina’s hand fluttered over her face as if touching old bruises. “Nothing compared to what he does to the others. But I can’t be trusted. So, I’m no longer allowed into town alone or to ride out unaccompanied, and he reads all my correspondence.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. If I hadn’t been such a fool, I could help you now.”
A wall of silence rose between us. I had to break it down or lose everything I’d gained with Georgina. When I went to her, I saw the light of her tears in the moonlight. With a quick movement, she wiped them away. I placed my hands on her arms. “Don’t worry. It’ll be all right.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. But friends stick together, and we’ll think of something.” She smiled. I pushed a wisp of stray hair back behind her ear. “That’s better.”
It was getting late, so we walked back toward the house. When we stopped and said goodnight, I added, “You weren’t a fool. You couldn’t have known the sheriff was corrupt. And you’re still helping where you can. That’s bravery.
“No, it’s not. If I were brave, I’d saddle a horse, ride to the next county, and tell anyone who would listen about what’s happening here. But I’m scared he’ll catch me and hurt me again. So, I bring silly baskets of medicine to salve my conscience.”
I caught her arm when she turned to run and yanked her back into mine. I held tight, forcing her to look up at me. “Listen to me. Everyone’s scared. I’m scared. It’s easy to be brave when there’s no risk. Doing something when there is takes guts. You’ve got guts, and don’t you ever forget it.”
She shuddered in a breath, fighting her tears. My instinct was to pull her close and hold her in my arms, but when she nodded and pulled back, I let her go to flit away into the dark. Would she meet with me again? Would it matter if she didn’t? My plans were in ruins. Chadstone and its sheriff were deep into De Lancey’s pockets. What the hell do I do now?
***
Chapter Eleven
I squinted my eyes against the sunlight when I stepped out of our shack the following morning, but the day was grayer than any I’d known. I didn’t take part in the usual conversation at breakfast, and when we tramped out to the avocado groves, the sun on my back did nothing to warm the cold pit in my stomach.
Everyone was needed for this harvest. The men scrambled up ladders into the trees to pick the bulbous green fruit, which they dropped onto sheets held by the women and transferred to crates for the children to carry to the wagons.
Cobb pointed at the waiting wagon. “Your first harvest, so you load the boxes. Got it?” My first harvest? The idea that there could be another was a punch in the gut. The club he always carried prodded me in the back. “I said, got it?”
I gritted my teeth but managed to give him the answer he wanted.
Sweat ran like a river, sticking my shirt to my flesh. We still had hours to go, and already, my back was radiating an ache that was spreading up my spine. Each time I stopped to stretch, Cobb yelled for me to quit slacking. I tried to ignore it all. The pain that squeezed my body into the ground, the heat that sapped the oxygen from the air, and the strength from my muscles – and Cobb. The son-of-a-bitch had been riding me ever since I’d embarrassed him in front of De Lancey over the water, and today he was taking every opportunity to make my life miserable.
The bell sounded, and I was ready to head back. A bucket of cool water from the well had my name on it, and a head-to-toe douse would feel good. But Cobb had other ideas.
“You ain’t done yet, boy.” I turned to the thorn in my flesh. “Those water barrels are almost empty, and seeing as how everyone getting water is so important to you, you’re gonna refill them.” I followed his finger to the end of the next field, where a pump was attached to an artisan well. “You can tote these buckets and fill them barrels. When you’ve done, you can go.” The club pushed against my shoulder. I rolled with it but didn’t step back. “You be sure and fill ‘em to the brim now, y’hear.”
My fingers clamped around the rim of the thick, heavy oak bucket, wrapped with solid copper straps. Perfect to stove in this bastard’s head. I swung it back. A hand grabbed my arm, snapping my head around. Isaac stared down at me.
“You plan on doing more than putting water in that?”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. What was I doing? Isaac let me go and stood back. The bucket dropped through limp fingers to the floor.
Cobb had walked to his horse and mounted. “No need to rush, boy. You’re not needed at the house tonight. Mr. De Lancey and me are heading to town for a beer.”
With a laugh, he rode away. That passing shot was meant to grind me down further, but instead, it shone a tiny glimmer of light into my day. Tonight, I might see Georgina.
The dousing felt every bit as good as I thought it would, and I was still dripping when I joined the others. The minute I sat down, Esther pressed a plate of food into my hand. Thanking her, I shoveled in a couple of mouthfuls before saying what I had to say to Isaac. “I’m sorry.”
His bushy eyebrows rose toward his dark, curly hair. “For what?”
“For earlier. Losing control.”
“Don’t go thinking you’re special now. We’ve all done the same.” I stared at my friend, trying to understand how they managed not to give in to those instincts. “How d’you stand it? Not fighting back?”
Isaac ducked his head. “I did, once. Back at the old plantation, before I met Martha. I had a sister, Ruth. She were like a streak of lightning. Fast, funny, and full of life. But she were beautiful.”
The sorrow in his words made me ask, “I don’t understand.”
“Beauty’s a curse for a slave. Attracts the wrong kind of attention. Ruth caught the master’s eye. He weren’t Master then, but he were still the master’s son, and if he wanted a slave, there weren’t no one to stop him. But I tried. I tried.”
“Those scars on your back?”
Isaac nodded. “I got beat, and my sister got used. Each time, that light inside her got dimmer and dimmer until it went out altogether.”
“What happened to her?”
“He sold her. She and the baby went as a pair. She earned more money that way. Proven breeding stock.”
The breath caught in my throat. I understood his meaning. De Lancey was the father. He’d sold his own child.
“I’m sorry.” How many times was I going to keep saying those useless words? I tried to swallow my anger, but still, I blurted out, “A man shouldn’t stop fighting.”
Isaac looked me in the eye. “Look around you, Joe. What d’you see?”
Puzzled, I looked around. “The same as always.”
“The master were smart over which slaves to bring here. He chose families. You see Samuel there.” I followed the nod of his head to the lad I’d noticed with an ugly wound where part of his ear was missing. “That ear weren’t no accident. I starts trouble, it ain’t me that gets punished. It would be Zach or Esther. We’re slaves, Joe, but we ain’t fools.”
A pit opened in my stomach. De Lancey had it all worked out. He played the same game on me. The man kept control by relying on the two things he didn’t have to keep us in line — decency and love.
But there was one person who’d flouted that. The man who was responsible for my being here. “What about Enoch? How come he ran?”
Isaac drew a breath. “A terrible fever run through here last winter. Lots of us got sick. The master didn’t wanna spend money on a doctor for us, leastways not ‘til we started dying. Isaac’s little boy went first, and that’s when Miss Georgina convinced the master to speak to a doctor. That doctor didn’t wanna treat no negroes. He told Miss Georgina what to do and gave her some medicine, and she explained it all to Esther. But we lost five more, including Isaac’s wife and his little girl. He lost his whole family that winter. He weren’t never the same after.
“He got whupped more’n I thought a man could stand. It didn’t change nothing. We all tried to help, but he wanted to get out of this place any way he could. Even if that meant dying.”
I’d known Enoch for too short a time, but I’d never forget the defiance he’d shown De Lancey. If I had done things differently, could I have saved him?
Isaac’s hand fell on my shoulder. “We don’t blame him for the way he acted, and we don’t blame you for how he died. You couldn’t have saved him, Joe, and that’s the plain, honest truth.”
I turned my head away from the firelight. These people had suffered more than anybody I’d ever known, yet Isaac could still read the guilt in my face and have compassion enough to ease it. “Thanks.”
***
Chapter Twelve
I couldn’t keep still. The dry ground beneath my feet crunched with my back-and-forth progress. Was Georgina coming? The soft swish of skirts spun me around.
“You’re here!”
Her startled look at my over-eager words brought me up short. Take it easy. Don’t spook her now.
“Is there something wrong?”
“No. The opposite. Sit down and let me explain.” I took her hand and led her over to the log. Taking a long breath, I steadied myself. “I’ve had an idea. But I need your help.”
“Tell me.”
“You can’t send a wire to my father, but you could write a letter.”
“But I told you, Preston reads all my correspondence. He would know I was writing to your father.”
“What if you were to receive a letter from a friend, telling you she’d gotten married and wanted to visit you?”
“Preston would never allow that.”
“Exactly. So, you’d have to write back and tell your friend not to come.”
“That’s true. But I have no such friends.”
“You could if I wrote the letter. But I shall need paper, a pencil, and an old envelope addressed to you or Preston. Could you get those?”
She pulled back from me. Her fingertips rested on her lips while she thought. Doubt rolled off her. I stood and took a few steps away, keeping my back to her and my head down.
“It’s a lot to ask, I know. If you’re too scared, I’ll understand.” I was pushing, but I had no choice.
“No. I can do it. I’m tired of being afraid. If I want things to change, I have to do something. I’ll help you any way I can.”
I wiped the smile that crossed my face before returning to her side. Taking her hands in mine, I thanked her.
Stretching out on my bunk, I linked my hands behind my head. If all went well, we could be out of here within a month. A qualm rippled through me about Georgina. There was a chance Preston might see through the letter, and the consequences for both of us would be ugly. But I couldn’t think about that, and after all, she’d benefit, too. I closed my eyes. Lake Tahoe drifted into view, and the scent of pine filled my nostrils. My plan had to work.
~~~
“Is this enough?”
Taking the small bundle from Georgina, I grinned. “You bet.” I laid down the paper and pencil and turned over the envelope addressed to De Lancey. It had been opened, but not so you couldn’t use it again. “How’d you get it?”
“I had some help.”
She dropped her gaze. Could it be Jemima? Even if the girl cleaned De Lancey’s office, asking her to steal this stuff risked far worse punishment than anything Georgina would’ve faced. I didn’t ask. What was done was done, and there’d be nothing to gain by dwelling on it. My goal was to get out of here, and I needed Georgina on board. “You did great.”
Her radiant smile and the trust in her eyes poked the guilt I’d caged within me. She showed me the circular mailing stamp. “The place is blurred, but I’m afraid you can still make out the date.”
In the dim light, I couldn’t see. “What does it say?”
“August twelve.”
A jolt shot through me. August already? “What’s today?”
“August twenty-second.”
My thumb brushed over the faded ink. So much lost time. Soon, the fall roundup would begin, ready for the drive down to Sacramento. It meant sleeping on rock-hard ground for two weeks, with nighttime temperatures that froze your butt. But I’d give anything to be there this year.
“Is it all right?”
Georgina’s question broke my thoughts. “Sure.” There was no reason to worry her about the date. After all, the chances of De Lancey looking that close were slim.
“I still don’t understand how I can write to a Cartwright?”
“You won’t be. You’ll be writing to Mrs. Canaday.”
“Canaday?”
“Yep. He’s one of our hands. A good man and a friend.”
Her mouth formed a wordless ‘O’ before she said, “And if Preston does notice the date, I can suggest the letter was delayed.”
I couldn’t meet her eyes. She’d spotted the danger, but that didn’t stop her from facing it head-on. Pulling myself together, I smiled. “You’re quite a lady.”
My stomach twisted when she blushed. I was grateful when she got back to business. “What do I say in my letter?”
I’d given this a lot of thought. Using my nickname, Little Joe, risked Preston putting two and two together, but Candy had to catch on and take the letter to Pa. Of course, there was a chance he’d toss a letter addressed to a wife he didn’t have without reading it, but our new hand had a strong streak of curiosity. I was betting everything on that streak.
Georgina’s eyes never left my face while I explained exactly what I needed her to say. When I finished, she pursed her lips and nodded. “I understand. I can do it.”
“I know you can.” Now I needed information for my letter. There was every chance Preston would read it, and it had to be believable, but I’d no idea what women wrote about to each other.
Georgina told me to talk about her friend’s ‘husband’ and where she lived. “But you can keep that general.”
“Thanks. Are you sure you can mix the letter in with the mail?”
“Yes. Don’t worry.”
“Good. I’ll have it ready for next time.”
Standing, she straightened her shoulders. “And when this is all over, you’ll be free.”
I took her hands. “When this is all over, we all will. I’ll make sure of that.”
After saying goodnight, I headed back to the shack. I couldn’t risk Floyd finding the bundle, so I snagged a rag and wrapped it up before returning to our clearing and tucking it out of sight under a rock. Tomorrow, I’d get to work on the letter.
Entering the cabin, I made for my bunk. Floyd looked up from the game he and Jess were playing with the grimy pack of cards he’d brought with him. “How come you’re so happy?”
Shrugging, I excused, “It’s a nice night. I can forget about this place when I’m outside.”
Floyd laid down his cards. Jess groaned and slapped his down in defeat. Gathering up the cards, Floyd grunted. “Once I get outta here, I ain’t never thinking about this stinkin’ place again.”
I looked up from pulling off my boots. “C’mon. You don’t really think you’re getting out of here?”
“What d’you mean?” Floyd demanded.
“De Lancey’s not letting any of us go. What if you went to the law?”
“Why would I do that?”
Rolling my eyes, I spelled it out. “Because of the slaves.”
“I don’t care about them.”
My boot thudded to the floor. “Maybe not. But do you think he’ll take that chance?”
Floyd’s chair scraped back over the dirt floor. Getting up, he marched to his bunk. “I’ll find a way to convince him. But I’m getting out of here.”
I shook my head and turned back to Jess. The boy hadn’t said a word. I might as well have punched the kid. “Jess, look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that.”
“He really ain’t gonna let us go?”
“Don’t worry. We’re getting out of here.”
“How’re you gonna do that?” Floyd chimed in.
Telling them the truth wasn’t an option, but I could give them hope. “My family will be looking for me, and they won’t stop. They knew the route I was taking home. Sooner or later, they’ll get around to this place.”
Floyd hooted. “You ain’t serious. You can’t rely on others. Hell, when my brother and me got sent to that orphanage, he didn’t give me a second thought when a couple wanted to adopt him and not both of us.”
“Maybe he didn’t have a choice.”
“Everyone has a choice. I shoulda learned my lesson. But I didn’t. And look what happened? I ended up here.” Floyd rolled out of his bunk. “I’m going for a piss.”
The door slammed shut. I looked at Jess, who broke the silence. “He told me about it once. He and his partner panned for gold. Did it for years. They never found much. Enough for grub, whiskey, and gear, but they didn’t mind. Then up in the hills, they stumbled onto an untouched creek. Floyd reckoned they panned over a thousand dollars in dust. Said it was his chance to buy the little farm he’d always wanted.
“They were all packed set to head for the nearest assay office and cash in, but Floyd woke up the next morning to find his partner gone. Took everything. Gold, equipment, guns, horses. All he left Floyd was a mule and a canteen. That’s why he ended up here. Hungry and desperate.”
I’d figured Floyd for an ignorant bully with a grudge against the world, but maybe he had his reasons. “That’s tough, but what I said was true. My family will find me, and then we’ll all get outta here.”
Conversation stopped when Floyd stomped back in. Jess doused the candle, and I settled back on my bunk. I’d found a way out. The image of Georgina drifted across my mind. I shifted, trying to get comfortable. The plan would work, and she’d be free of a lousy marriage. I closed my eyes and thrust the guilt away.
***
Chapter Thirteen
More impatient than a rider at the annual Virginia City race waiting for the starting gun, I couldn’t wait to scramble out of my suit and get back to start writing the letter.
I turned to see Noah. My companion filed out in front of me, but when I moved to the door, Noah closed it.
“I want to speak with you.” Great. What had I done now? “What’re you getting Miss Georgina into?”
I took a step back. What did he know, or was he fishing for information? “I don’t understand, Mr. Noah.”
“Don’t play dumb with me. Miss Georgina told me all about your letter idea.”
I stared at the man. Why would Georgina risk telling him? Unless— “It’s you! You’re the one who lets her back in each night. You got the envelope and paper.”
“I’ve been a friend to that child ever since I found her crying. Brokenhearted. Realizing what kind of man she’d married. I’ve looked after her ever since, and I ain’t about to let you put her in danger.”
He moved toward me as he spoke. Like Pa, Noah was still an imposing figure. I squared up to him. “I’m not going to do that. Look, I know what kind of man he is—”
Noah’s fist closed around my shirt. “No, you don’t. I was born on the De Lancey estate. Served Master Preston’s papa before him. I’ve watched that man grow from a babe. Getting meaner, year by year. Seen him do things you wouldn’t believe. What if he sees through your letter? What d’you think that man would do if he found out his wife was plotting against him?”
I pushed his hand away. “I can’t give any guarantees. But if this works, everyone will get out of here.”
“How?”
Ducking my head, I walked away. I needed to convince him. I couldn’t risk Noah talking Georgina into backing out. “That letter will bring my family. Trust me, if this goes to plan, we’re all getting out of here. Including Georgina. She’ll be rid of De Lancey once he goes to prison.”
“You really think white folks will jail a white man ‘cause he didn’t free a few negros?”
I reached out and folded my hand around the back of a chair. The smooth wood, firm under my touch, grounded me as I reeled from Noah’s words. “You knew?”
“I ain’t stupid. I can read.”
“How long?”
“Since the war ended.”
“You’ve known you were free all that time?”
“All that time? Boy, those two years aren’t nothing. I’ve lived twelve years knowing I should be a free man.”
“What?”
“Master Preston’s papa promised me my freedom. Wrote it in his will. The day after the old man passed away, Master Preston told me that ‘will’ didn’t mean nothing. I were too good an asset to lose. I’s used to waiting.”
“If you knew, why didn’t you tell the others?”
“An’ have them living with the truth like I do.”
“You could’ve broken out.”
“How many would’ve died? And if we had? We didn’t have money, food, no way to live.”
“I promise. When we get out, I’ll see to it you get all the help you need.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed. “I never pegged you for a liar. But I could always be wrong.”
“I’m not lying. Look, my family owns a ranch in Nevada. Near Virginia City. The Ponderosa.” The skepticism in his eyes had me draw a breath. “I was on my way home from a cattle buying trip when I got caught up in all this. I guarantee they’re looking for me. Once my pa knows where I am, he’ll come running with an army of our hands at his back.”
The gaze from those dark eyes bored into me. I held it look for look. He had to believe me.
“Tell me your plan.”
***
Chapter Fourteen
Hunched over that log, scribbling in the moonlight, it took me two evenings to write the letter. In the end, I’d managed a pretty good job. Wrapped in the rag, back in its hiding place, it waited, ready to hand over to Georgina. All I needed was for Preston to take another trip to town!
“Here’s another, Joe.”
Zach grinned as he lugged the crate in his arms. That kid never stopped smiling. I finished loading the boxes in my hands, returned the smile, and waved him in. “Bring it over.”
Stepping on a loose rock, Zach’s foot rolled. When he tumbled sideways, the crate dropped from his hands and hit the ground, shedding its contents to roll and scatter under the dozing horse. Startled by the heavy fruit striking its hooves, the animal shied and yanked its ground tie free. Running down the wagon, I grabbed the halter and steadied the horse before it had the chance to take off.
“You all right, Zach?”
“Yeah.”
The boy scrambled about on his knees, picking up the fruit and returning it to the box. As I re-tied the horse, Cobb marched up. The blow he delivered sent the boy sprawling.
“You stupid brat. That could’ve cost us the whole wagon load.”
With one shaking arm protecting himself, Zach continued to crawl about collecting the spilled crop. “I’s sorry, Mr. Cobb.”
“You will be.”
Alarm rippled through me when he reached for Zach. I needed to calm the bully down. “No harm done, Mr. Cobb.”
Cobb tossed Zach against the side of the wagon. Shaking from head to toe, Zach repeated over and over that he was sorry. Behind them, others were beginning to look up, wondering about the fuss. Cobb stepped back to give himself room. What was he gonna do, beat the boy for dropping a box? I moved around from the horse. “Wait a minute. I told you. There’s no harm done.”
“Shut your mouth.”
His hand went to his belt, but instead of the birch, he detached his whip. With a flick of his wrist, the leather unfurled. The tip snaked in the dirt, sending up a puff of dust. “You can’t use that on the boy.”
“Stay out of this.”
Placing myself between the two, I put up my hands. “You use that. You’ll kill him.”
“Back off, or you’ll get it too!”
I took a step forward. “You’re a coward, beating on a kid. You got the guts to take on a man?”
Surprise crossed the man’s face. He pointed at Zach. “You wanna take that darkies’ punishment?”
“You heard me.”
A smile curved Cobb’s lips. His eyes lit with anticipation. Ever since that argument over the water, he’d been waiting for his chance, and I’d just handed myself to him on a plate.
Over my shoulder, I glanced at Zach, clinging to the wagon. “Get back to your pa.” Feet thudded on dry earth. When he’d gone, I pulled off my shirt. No point in ruining that. “Let’s get on with it.”
***
Chapter Fifteen
I was carried back to the quarters, that much I was sure of. Who carried me, I didn’t know. Isaac was the only one I heard. Telling me that it wasn’t too bad, that I’d be all right. I didn’t think I’d ever be all right again, but Isaac should know, shouldn’t he? I’d never been whipped like he had. Lain face down on a bed and watched my blood run in rivulets off my torn back onto a straw-stuffed mattress—until now.
Georgina’s voice shouting to Cobb echoed around my mind, taking me back to that wagon I’d clung to …
“What kind of fool tries to whip a child because he dropped a crate? And if that wasn’t bad enough, you beat one of Preston’s best workers almost senseless.”
My fight to stay upright ended. Dropping to my knees, I rested my forehead against the worn wooden sides of the wagon. I didn’t care what was going on, only that the damned leather no longer sliced my flesh.
“She’s right. You’re a fool. I need every man in the field, and you’ve cost me days of work out of him. Get him back to the quarters and taken care of.”
Voices opened my eyes. The sweat dripping off my lashes blurred my vision. Who was talking? I tried to focus, but the voices kept slipping away. Giving up, I let my gaze rest on the blood stains that were growing larger and beginning to pool together.
“Joe, I gotta clean your wounds. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
The cloth touching my back sent my fingers wrapping around the rough wood of the bed frame beneath me. Sinking teeth into the feeble pillow, I stuffed it into my mouth to muffle my cries. The stench of the sweat-soaked fabric clogged the back of my throat. Strung tighter than a bowstring, every muscle corded, and the wood of the frame cracked under the pressure of my clenched hands.
“It’s over, Joe. We’ve finished.”
Esther’s words filtered through the agony that burrowed into my back and refused to let go. When the cup pressed against my lips, my mouth opened like a starving man to drink every last drop of the cool water. Collapsing against the mattress, I pushed my fingers free of the frame, letting them hang. Eventually, they’d uncurl by themselves.
Sunlight tracked across a dirt floor I didn’t recognize. The shadows lengthened, but there was no sign of Jess or Floyd. There was only Esther taking care of me.
The door opened. I caught my breath when I saw that pretty yellow dress, and my heart began to pound when soft fingers brushed my forehead. “I’m so sorry, Joe. If only we’d arrived sooner. But I’m here now. I’ll stay and help Esther.”
“Don’t,” was all I managed to force out. The scent of orange blossoms meant she was close. I moistened my lips. “Don’t risk staying … not … for me.”
Her cool palm rested on my cheek. “You don’t have to worry. Preston’s gone to town on business.”
I gave in, happy she was by my side. It wouldn’t be for long. I’d be up and around soon. Smiling, I drifted off to sleep.
Pain racked through me, washing over me, and then dug so deep I thought I’d break. My skin bubbled and melted off my back. I cried out, writhing on my stomach.
Her hand slipped into mine. Dainty and soft, it held on tight, anchoring me to her strength. I clung to it. Feeling those fingers pressing into mine, my sweat dripping onto her skin. When she let go, I wanted to scream just to touch her again. But I fought the urge down and summoned my courage. The pain wouldn’t last forever. I could get through it. I just had to hold on. But in the deepest darkness of my agony, I reached out, and she was there, ready to hold me.
I opened my eyes. Bright morning sunshine flooded the room, and there was Georgina.
“Good. You’re awake. Can you sit up a little if I help you?”
I didn’t have the energy to protest, and besides, I’d do anything she asked of me. The spoonful of soft, milky liquid she tipped down my throat tasted foul, but I didn’t complain.
When I’d drunk the water she’d given me, I mustered up the courage to tell her, “It’s morning. You need to get back.”
“It’s all right. No one will miss me for a while.”
I wanted to tell her to leave, but when she took my hand, I couldn’t. Instead, I hung on like a fool and let her run those gentle fingers through my hair. When she did finally slip away, it was all I could do not to bury my head in my pillow and weep. Looking into her eyes that morning, my whole world had changed. She was the woman I’d tried to charm and use. In return, she’d given me trust, kindness, and bravery I didn’t deserve. But I didn’t want her help anymore. Now, all I wanted was her.
***
Chapter Sixteen
“How’re you feeling this morning?” Isaac asked.
I managed to sit up in bed to eat breakfast, but that had cost me every ounce of energy. “I think you know.”
“Weak?”
“As a kitten.” I adjusted my position and winced when a sore part caught on the pillow. “I guess they’ll scar.”
Isaac pulled a face and picked up a small brown jar from the rough-hewn table against the wall. “This’ll fix you up.”
“What is it?”
“Salve. Snaps them cuts shut so fast they hardly have time to scar.”
“Didn’t help you any.”
The big man shrugged. “I didn’t get to use it. The old master had salt rubbed into my back as an example. ‘Sides, you were lucky. Mr. Cobb only got in five or six licks by the time Miss Georgina stopped him.”
“Five or six …?” My back felt like it had been ripped apart, yet I’d taken less than half the strokes of a regular whipping. I stared at Isaac. This big, gentle man who never hurt a soul in his life. “How did you stand it?”
Isaac dropped his gaze to the jar in his strong hands. Had he ever been asked that question? He lifted his eyes to meet mine. “When you ain’t got no other choice, you finds a way.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Ain’t your fault. You’re a good man, Joe. The first white man I’ve met that is. That means something.” The kindness in his eyes was too much to bear. Blinking, I looked away.
Isaac popped the lid of the jar. “Why don’t I put some on?”
Before he could begin, Esther opened the door and stopped. “And what is you planning on doing with that?”
“I was gonna rub it into his back, woman.”
“Oh no, you ain’t. Joe don’t need your great big clumsy hands on him.”
“I ain’t clumsy. I was gonna rub it in gently like.”
Esther took the jar. “You leave that to me. Now, you go on—get!”
I grinned to see Isaac cower before his little wife, who barely came up to his shoulders. He headed for the door, but not before he’d given me a wink.
Esther turned, and I wiped the grin off my face. “Now, if you sit still and don’t fidget, I can get this done real quick.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Drawing a breath, I relaxed my gritted teeth enough to ask, “How’s it looking back there?”
“Don’t you fret. The swelling’s gone down, and the wounds are healing fine.”
“Thanks to you and Miss Georgina. Do you know if she’ll be coming today?”
“No. But I heard the Master got home last night in a real temper. Seems his business didn’t go so well.”
My heart rate picked up. De Lancey was a pig at the best of times. “I hope she has the sense to stay away.”
“Don’t you worry none. Miss Georgina’s a smart girl, and if she ain’t, Mr. Noah will keep an eye on her.”
I hoped that was true. Esther’s fingers touched a raw point, and I jumped. “Ouch!”
“Oh, hush! If you want this back fixed, hold still.”
“How bad will the scarring be?”
She paused, and my stomach flipped. “Can’t say yet.”
I understood. Getting out of this hellhole won’t ever be enough. I’d always carry part of it with me.
The door to the cabin flung open, and Zach tumbled in. “Mr. Cobb’s coming!”
“Get back home and stay out of sight, y’hear?” When the boy scooted away, Esther turned to me. “If he sees you like this, he’ll have you working this morning. Lie down, shut your eyes, and stay quiet. Let me do the talking.” Settling back on my belly, Esther sprinkled water over my face and hair. “Now remember. Hush.”
Going to the door, she greeted Cobb.
“How is he? Good to work?”
“Fever’s not broke yet, Mr. Cobb.”
“It’s been three days!”
I heard boots thump across the packed dirt, and something hard prodded me in the side. I let out a stifled moan for effect.
“If he goes to the fields, Mr. Cobb, it’ll likely kill him.”
I heard the grind of the foreman’s teeth. “I want him back to work in two days. Got it?”
“Yessir. Two days.”
The door slammed shut, and I opened my eyes and smiled at Esther. “Thanks.”
***
Chapter Seventeen
We kept Esther’s promise, and two days later, I stepped out and joined the others. Cobb watched me trudge by. Let him smirk. Those extra two days had given me the chance to start healing, and I was grateful for them.
Esther had kept me in the cabin just in case Cobb made another surprise appearance, so the fresh air in my lungs made me happy, but my confinement had stopped me from getting to our clearing. Tonight, I needed to tear up that letter! No way was I going through with my plan. I wouldn’t put Georgina at risk. I’d find another way to get us out of here.
Hungrier than a bear by the time the final bell clanged, but instead of heading for a meal, I made for the clearing. I pulled up the rock and froze. An empty pit greeted me.
I snapped upright. De Lancey had slunk off to town again, but would Georgina come? Had the son-of-a-bitch taken out his foul mood on her? Or, worse, did he have the letter?
When she appeared, I gasped in relief and ran toward her. “Thank God, you’re all right.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The letter I wrote. I hid it here, and it’s gone. If Preston has it—”
“I have it.”
“What? But how?”
“You talked about it.” I scuffed my scalp. I must’ve told her, but I didn’t remember. “You kept repeating about the letter and a rock. It wasn’t too hard to find.”
“You still have it? You haven’t mixed it with the mail.”
“Not yet. Preston’s business didn’t go well, and I thought it best to wait until he’s in a better mood.”
“Good. Burn it.” She blinked and stared at me. “I mean it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s too dangerous. I was wrong to ask you.”
“But this is our way out.”
“No. I won’t let you risk it.”
Georgina plumped down on the log. “But we always knew there was a risk.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
My fingers raked my scalp. I owed Georgina the truth, but everything important to me was at stake. I sat beside her and took her hands.
“I wasn’t honest with you. When I became your friend, it was because I wanted you to help me escape.”
The fingers in mine trembled. “You lied?”
The breath I took shuddered in my chest, hearing the pain in her voice. “I’m sorry. But everything’s changed. Just know, I’d never let anyone hurt you.”
“Except you.” She stripped the warmth from me when she withdrew her hands.
“Georgina—” I followed when she moved away. “I was wrong. But I’m not lying now.”
“How can I believe anything you say?”
She turned her back. I couldn’t let her go. Risk her walking away from me forever. Catching her arm, I spun her around to face me. “Because I’m telling you the truth.”
Her tears thrust a knife through my chest. “The truth, what truth?”
“I love you.”
I crushed her slim frame to mine. Burying my head in her hair, I told her I loved her again. She didn’t respond. I ruined everything.
Defeated, I moved away. Hands on hips, I ducked my head and swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t blame you. Why should you believe me? But destroy the letter. I’ll find another way to get us out of here. When I do, I’ll prove to you how much I love you. Even if it takes the rest of my life.”
The sob that broke from her was too much. I went to her. “Please don’t ….”
Trembling hands wrapped around mine, and she smiled. “I love you, too.”
I pulled her to me, closing my eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. Her body melted into mine, and our arms encircled each other, making us one. For the first time, I kissed her. Not a demanding, hungry kiss of desire but a long, slow, gentle exchange of love.
Returning to the log, we sat side by side in silence, content just to hold each other.
“I need to get back.”
I sighed, but Georgina was right. Walking her to the edge of the trees, I took her chin in my hand and kissed her again. “Be sure and burn that letter. I don’t wanna risk anyone finding it.”
Her fingers slipped through mine, and I watched her go. A part of me went with her. A part of me would always be with her.
***
Chapter Eighteen
I’d thrown away my best chance of getting out of here, but I didn’t care. I’d find another way. I had a family to get back to and a new life to start. A life with Georgina by my side. Pa and Hoss would love her, and I’d already picked out the spot where I’d build our house—
“What’s with the stupid grin? That beatin’ mash your brain?”
I lifted my gaze to Floyd and swirled the water in my cup. “Maybe I’m just appreciating being alive.”
He snorted and shoveled another spoonful of breakfast into his mouth. But he was right. I didn’t have time to daydream, not with a new plan to build from scratch. Starting again wasn’t easy, but Pa taught us nothing worth having was, and I had all the incentive I needed to find another way out of here.
“Y’know, you were right.”
I looked over my cup at Floyd. “About what?”
“The kid. I didn’t think Cobb was that much of a bastard. You likely saved his life.”
“Thanks. Look, why not eat with us?”
“I know what you’re trying to do, but I ain’t the same as them others, and I don’t aim to become like them. So, quit asking.”
I caught the way Floyd’s hand shook when he picked up his cup. It wasn’t prejudice, it was fear. Plain, simple fear that kept him from joining the others. Doing so would be admitting he was stuck here forever, like them. Fear spread beneath this place like a disease.
When I entered the big house that evening, Noah stopped me.
“Master Preston has instructed you’re no longer needed. You can return to the quarters.”
“What? Why?”
Noah fixed me with a look. “You don’t ask why.”
I ducked my head and cursed. Forgetting basic rules was plain stupid. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“You’re lucky it were me and not Cobb.” Noah checked the hallway was empty before continuing. “You took a whupping you didn’t have to, and you weren’t even tied. The more the master thought about it, the less he liked it.”
“I scare him.”
“An’ is that a place you wants to be?” I bit my lip. It wasn’t. Noah opened the door. “Now you just keep your head down and stay out of his way. If it all works out, it won’t be for long.”
I turned in the doorway. “If what works out?” The look I received asked how dumb I was. A thunderbolt of realization slammed me hard, and the words hissed through me, “She used the letter!”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I told her to destroy it.”
“Well, she sure didn’t listen. The reply went this afternoon.”
“Why that little—” I rocked back on my heels. Wait ‘til I got my hands on her! But that brave, incredible woman had pulled it off! I grinned at Noah, slapped him on the arm, and strode away.
I’d worn a furrow in the ground by the time Georgina next walked into our little glade. Tossing aside the stick I’d been destroying, I marched over and gave her a shake. “I told you to burn the letter. What were you thinking?”
Her chin went up. “That the plan was too good to throw away.”
Those soft brown eyes blazed back at me, defiant and beautiful. What could I do except love this woman? Pulling her into my arms, I kissed the top of her head. “Thank you,” I murmured.
Her cheek pressed into mine, and she whispered, “I’d walk into Hell for you.”
My lips found hers, and her hands moved up my back as mine tightened around her, drawing her closer. I longed to feel her skin against mine. Taste her flesh with my lips, and I cursed the fabric that kept us apart.
Her fingers wound around my neck, writhing through my hair. Hot lips trailed across my cheek. “Please, love me.”
The words sent a thrill coursing through me. They were an echo of my thoughts, but damn decency thrust its way between us. It took everything I had, but I stepped back. Her hands reached for mine. I took them but stayed where I was.
“When we get outta here. I’m gonna take you home and marry you. I’ll make love to you every day for the rest of our lives. But that ring on your finger means something. I can’t let you break those vows.”
Her hands tightened around mine. “Why don’t you let me decide?”
“Georgina—”
“Do you think what I have is marriage? It’s not. I’m not a wife. I’m an object. I don’t owe Preston anything. You’ve shown me more kindness than he ever has. And as for love….” She let the word hang in the air, raw and painful between us.
“We’ll have that. I promise.”
“I don’t want to miss my chance to be with you.”
Her tears sparkled in the moonlight. I pulled her to me, crushing down my desire, and whispered the words, “You won’t. I promise. Everything will be all right. We’ll get out of here, and you and I will never be apart. Heck, I’ll spend so much time with you, you’ll be sick of me.”
Her gurgle of laughter broke on a sob. I held her tight. It hurt how much I wanted her. But right was right, and I couldn’t make my love an adulteress.
I lay in my bunk, still feeling the touch of her lips and her hands on my back. The idea that a married woman was untouchable, off limits, had been drummed into me. But did it really matter?
Georgina didn’t have my ring on her finger. But, so what? She was mine in every way that mattered, and nothing could ever change that. Or was I trying to give myself a reason to get what I wanted? I didn’t have the answer. But the longer we were together, the harder it would be to stick to a principle that was already crumbling at the edges.
***
Chapter Nineteen
Even though I tried not to, I worked out how long it could be before Pa arrived. It was a dumb waste of time since anything could delay him. But it still lightened the load.
My thoughts were hard to control. No matter what I was doing, they drifted in the same direction. When I picked up a hoe, it was Georgina’s skin I felt under my fingertips. I breathed in the scent of her perfume, while her laughter rang in my ears, and her words of longing filled my being, becoming a part of me. The soil under my hoe split and broke apart just as my resolve did.
I endured the long, lonely evening without seeing my love, although one thought haunted me. Since De Lancey wasn’t in town, was he taking his pleasure with his wife? My fingers curled at the thought of his touching her, and I tossed and turned all night, unable to rest.
The next day brought her to me riding through the groves by her husband’s side. The man loved to survey his property. When he stopped to talk to Cobb, I caught her eye. Our look was a kiss.
Cobb spotted a slave who’d stopped working for a moment. Always looking to show off, the brute unfurled his whip. “Get moving!”
The tip smacked the dry earth at the man’s feet to crack like a bullet. Startled, Georgina’s horse reared. Leaping across, I caught her as she fell, rolling away from the animal’s hooves. I held her close, feeling her tremble within my arms. God, I wanted to hold her forever, but instead, I helped her to her feet and then retrieved her bonnet.
“Are you all right, my dear?”
“Yes, thank you, Preston.”
De Lancey swung around in his saddle toward his foreman. “For Heaven’s sake, Cobb, be more careful. Mrs. De Lancey could’ve been killed.”
Cobb blustered and apologized while I brought the horse back. My hand wrapped around the tooled leather of Georgina’s boot to hoist her into the saddle. “Thank you, Joe.”
Once she’d settled, De Lancey drew his horse up alongside. “Ready?” When she nodded, he turned back to Cobb. “Follow us back to the house. We’re going into town tonight.”
I turned away and hauled in a breath. My hands shook as I wiped the sweat from my top lip. De Lancey was right. In that instant, I could’ve lost everything before we’d even begun.
~~~
Holding Georgina in my arms, I showered her face with kisses. My lips pressed against her ear, and I murmured, “I was so scared.”
Her warm breath tickled my neck. “I’m fine, thanks to you.”
My hug tightened. Having her here and safe, I couldn’t bear to let her go. “If anything had happened to you….” Her body quivered against mine. I took her face between my hands and lost myself in those beautiful eyes. “I love you so much.”
She smiled and took a step back. Her gaze never left mine, holding me still. I waited for her to speak, but instead, her hands went to her blouse, and she undid the tiny top pearl button, slipping it through the little hole with ease. The next followed, and the next, revealing her milky-white skin. My chest rose and fell with the quickening of my breath.
“Georgina—”
She put a finger on her lips as a signal from me to shush. “Joe, we don’t know what’s going to happen. But there’s one thing I do know. I want to be with you.”
The blouse slipped down her arms and dropped to the floor. Reaching behind, she undid the buttons of her skirt and stepped out. It joined the other on the ground. She wore no corset, only her chemise, petticoat, and pantaloons. But here, she paused and waited.
She was leaving the decision up to me. This time, it wasn’t hard to make.
I slipped my shirt over my head. Stripped of our clothes, we stood alone and naked. The moonlight reflected off her white skin in cool pools, illuminating the hair that flowed over her shoulders. For a long moment, we gazed at each other, enjoying the view.
Georgina was right. Nobody’s promised tomorrow. I drew her into my arms and made love to her like it was the last time.
***
Chapter Twenty
We lay side by side, facing each other. I loved to look at her, seeing the soft glow in her eyes after our lovemaking. My fingers caressed her cheek, and hers ran over my back. Finding one of the scars, she followed its line.
“I hate that you’re out there in the fields at the mercy of Cobb and his men.”
“It’s not for much longer.”
“Maybe, if I speak to Preston—”
I clutched her arm. “No. You can’t risk that.”
“But, since I spoke up for him that awful day, he thinks I’m on his side.”
I couldn’t bring myself to ask what that meant. Was he visiting her at night again? It wasn’t a thought I could deal with. “Listen. You have to be careful. Don’t forget what kind of man he is.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
“I am.” She bit her lip, and her gaze dropped to the ground. With the tips of two fingers, I lifted her chin so she’d look at me. “I know how brave you are. Don’t take any chances for me. Promise?”
I leaned in and kissed her when she smiled. The sweet taste flooded my senses, sending a warm glow through me. Kissing her felt like the first time, each time. My hand slid down her back. Traces of sweat from our recent lovemaking met my fingertips. Cupping her buttock, I pulled her closer, skin touching skin. Excitement tightened my groin, and I deepened the kiss, happy to take us to ecstasy again.
~~~
After spending the morning clearing irrigation channels, I sat down to eat my lunch, but only managed one bite of my cornbread when a boy ran up and handed a note to the overseer.
“Joe! Get over here.” Hauling myself upright, I walked over to the man. “Noah wants you up at the big house. You’d better run, boy.”
I reached the back door, out of breath and dripping with sweat. Why the heck did Noah need me? Was something wrong?
Jemima answered my knock. Smiling at me, she showed me to a door. Noah sat behind a small desk, squeezed into the room. A tiny, high window provided what little light made its way inside. On a shelf behind him, nailed into the wall, were a line of battered books. The title of the end one read ‘Robinson Crusoe’. I didn’t have time to ponder the man’s literary taste since he waved me to the worn seat in front of the desk. Perched on the edge of the chair, I waited.
“When Master Preston arrived back from town this morning, one of Cobb’s men was waiting. He had a tale to tell about seeing Miss Georgina wandering around in the grounds last night.”
“What? Where is she?”
Out of the chair, I headed for the door. To hell with the risk! If Georgina were in danger, I’d grab her right now and make a run for home. Noah’s sharp words stopped me.
“You hold your horses. Sit right back down there like I told you.” Leaning back in his chair, he gave me a long, hard look. The man reminded me of Pa and the unnerving way he had of looking right into you, cutting through the crap to what was underneath. “I guess it’s true what she’s told me about you two.”
“I love her, if that’s what you mean.”
“Hmmm. Well, I’ve never seen her this happy, so I guess there’s not much to say about that.”
“Is she all right?”
“She is. When Master Preston started asking questions, she stood right up to him. Told him she takes walks because it’s too hot in her room to sleep. Asked him why she couldn’t do that without Cobb’s men spying on her.”
“What did he say to that?”
“He agreed with Miss Georgina. He told Cobb to tell his men to mind their own business, and if they see Miss Georgina taking a walk, they’re to walk the other way.”
I smiled at the thought of my fearless, beautiful love. Then I sobered. “Why are you telling me this?”
Noah laced his fingers and leaned forward. “She’s changed, an’ she ain’t afraid of the master no more, and she needs to be. You gots to warn her. Today, she were lucky.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Good.” Noah stood. “I had to have a reason to call you here. I have a job for you.”
Handed a spade and some buckets of lime, I faced the worst job. Digging the new and filling in the old outhouse hole. Great!
I took Noah’s warning to heart. I’d been stupid and selfish by continuing to meet Georgina. It was a risk we didn’t need to take. From now on, we’d stay away from each other. But I’d have to tell her first.
Her body melded into mine, the perfect fit, like we were always meant to be together. But tonight she held me tighter than before.
“I’m not afraid.”
“I know that. But we have to be smart.”
“It’ll be hard.”
I kissed her and pressed my cheek into her silken hair. My chest ached, tightening my grip, at the thought of not seeing her. “It won’t be for long.” I pressed my forehead to hers. The closeness of her unbearably sweet. “Just a few more days.”
They would be the longest days of my life, but soon we’d be free.
I picked the leaves out of her hair as we walked back to the edge of the woods. “The next time I hold you, I’ll never let you go.”
~~~
The sweat blurred my vision, and I wiped it away to recheck the road. The odds of Pa riding over that hill at that moment were about as likely as a bull growing wings, but it was all I could think about.
When a boy brought the message, and the overseer turned to me, I fought to control my excitement.
“You’re wanted at the house.”
Who cares what lousy job Noah might have waiting? I’d dig a dozen new outhouse holes if it meant I could catch a glimpse of Georgina.
I reached the back door and stopped short. Cobb leaned against the jamb with a smirk on his face.
“The boss wants to see you.”
***
Chapter Twenty-One
When Cobb’s fist slammed my jaw again, I almost toppled along with the chair they’d tied me to. Spitting the blood from my mouth, I glared at De Lancey leaning against his desk.
“Ready to tell me the truth?”
“I’ve told you the truth.” I jerked my head toward Floyd. “He’s a liar! He’d sell his mother out for a steak. What did you offer him?”
De Lancey’s fingers tightened around the edges of his desk as he leaned against it. “His freedom.”
I laughed. “Hell. He’d sell us all out for that.”
The man’s gaze traveled to Floyd, who shifted from one foot to the other. “I ain’t lyin’!”
Floyd was beginning to look less and less convincing. My chances grew. All I had to do was keep talking.
A tap came on the door. De Lancey rose from his position. “We’ll soon find out who’s telling the truth.” Crossing the room, he opened the door. “Come in, my dear, and take a seat.”
My stomach flipped when Georgina walked in, her eyes widened at the sight of me and the others. “What’s this all about, Preston?”
“Come and sit down. I’ll explain in a moment.” Georgina’s gaze met mine, and I gave her a quick shake of the head. I hoped she’d get the message to say nothing.
“Here is my question. This man tells me that you and Joe have had assignations behind my back.”
“I told you. It’s a lie.”
My head rattled as Cobb’s smacked me again. De Lancey smiled. “Thank you, Cobb. Now, Georgina, perhaps you can tell me. Is what this man said true?”
Georgina gazed back at her husband. Her eyes shone in the light that streamed in from the large windows, washing over her. “No.”
A guttural sound escaped Floyd, but no one else moved or spoke.
De Lancey smiled. “Thank you, my dear, for clearing that up. You can go.” Georgina rose. I tried to steady my breathing. She’d done it and was safe.
“Although ….” My stomach lurched as De Lancey spoke, and Georgina stopped and turned back. “There is the little matter of your being seen in the grounds. What were you really doing out there at night?”
“I told you.”
“Yes. You told me a lie. Now I want the truth.”
My poor girl. Taken by surprise, the truth was written all over her face. When she looked at me, tears swam in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Joe.”
I wanted to tell her it was all right, but I needed to keep her safe. That meant one more hand to play, and it had to look good.
“Trust a woman to mess up.” I turned from the shock in her eyes and faced De Lancey. “You wanna know the truth? You’ve got one lonely little lady there. She was so desperate for a friend it was easy to make her think that was me. I just wanted her to help me get out of this hellhole.
“Sure, we’d meet up. You know what we did? Talked about you. All the time, she whined about how she wished you’d liked her more, how she wanted to help you, ‘til I was sick of hearing it. And then, she told me all about how happy she was that you were getting along so well.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“And you don’t have feelings for her?”
“The lady of the big house? Letting me slave out there in the heat and dust while she was waited on hand and foot, eating those fine meals? Yeah. I felt something. But it weren’t friendly.”
“No!” Floyd’s shout broke in. “I seen how he mooned around. Him and her were more’n friends.”
I swung around in my chair to look at Floyd and then back at De Lancey. “I lied to get out of here. You think he wouldn’t do the same?”
“I’m sure he would. The question is, are you lying now?” De Lancey walked back around his desk and lowered himself into the chair. “You play a good hand, Joe. But there is the little matter of that whipping you took for another man’s child. Cobb didn’t even have to tie you down. I can’t help asking myself. Is that the kind of man who’d use a woman the way you say you have?”
Every muscle in my body tightened, and my fist clenched, but my mind went blank. I couldn’t freeze up now. I needed to pull myself together and talk fast.
Georgina’s soft voice broke the silence. “You’re right, Preston. He is too good a man,”
“Don’t—”
“It’s all right, Joe.” When she turned to her husband, the glow in her eyes told the world how she felt, but she said it anyway. “I love him, Preston, and we’re going to be married.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, let me remind you. You’re married to me.”
“Marriage means more than owning someone. Something you never understood. Once I get a divorce—”
Preston’s fist slammed his desk. “I won’t let you dishonor my family’s name with divorce!”
“You tell ‘em, Boss!” De Lancey stared at Floyd. “Look, you do whatever you want with them. But now you know I told the truth, how’s about I just go?”
My lip curled. The man slunk lower than a snake.
De Lancey rose. “You’re right. You deserve your reward.”
Floyd’s eyes met mine. “Sorry, Joe, but I told you I’d get out of here.”
I jumped when the gun went off. Floyd’s face froze. Blood trickled down from the hole in his forehead. He hovered for a moment before crashing to the floor.
Floyd had made his choice. He’d turned Georgina and me in for his freedom. But all he’d done was sign his death warrant.
Georgina gasped, “You killed him.”
“Of course he did.” I glared at the killer before me and watched him lay down that same pistol he used to kill Enoch. “He couldn’t let him leave and risk him telling anyone about his place.”
“I have the right to protect what’s mine.”
Sick of listening to this man, I cut to the chase. “You going to kill me next?”
With slow deliberation, De Lancey began to reload his pistol. “I can hardly stand by and let a man steal my wife.”
“Preston, you can’t!”
When Georgina jumped up, De Lancey shouted for Cobb to stop her. When the foreman moved, I tried to launch from my chair. With my hands tied to the back and my ankles to the legs, I didn’t manage to get far, but I had to do something. “Keep your hands off her!”
Seeing Cobb’s intention, my girl had the sense to sit down by herself.
“Now, as I was saying.” De Lancey rose, bringing the reloaded pistol with him. “You’re going to die, Joe. But I intend to make it slow and painful. By the time I’m finished, you’ll be begging me to kill you.”
“Preston, please,” Georgina’s plea trembled through her tears.
“Oh, don’t worry, my dear.” A shiver ran down my spine when he ran a hand over Georgina’s head. “You won’t be around to see it.”
“No!” I flung myself forward, but Cobb’s meaty paws pushed me down. I stared at De Lancey. “You can’t be serious. Kill me if you want. But she’s your wife!”
“You should’ve thought of that before you turned her into a whore.”
“You’re wrong, Preston. You destroyed any chance we might’ve had with your indifference and cruelty.”
“I made you mistress of The Kingdom. What more could you want?”
“Love! Joe’s given me more love in the time we’ve been together than you’ve shown me in all our years.”
“Really, my dear, you demean yourself talking that way.”
“I pity you, Preston. You’ll never know the joy I’ve known.”
His hand lashed out, slapping her. “I hope it was worth it.”
I struggled against the ropes, ignoring how they dug in. Cobb’s fist plowed into my cheek, cutting skin. Georgina gave Cobb a glare for that. Then, pulling herself up tall, she faced De Lancey.
“Do you remember that letter I sent? It wasn’t to a friend. It was to Joe’s family. His father’s a wealthy man, and he’ll be coming here looking for his son. It’s over. Don’t you see? Please, Preston, stop all this and let us go.”
Relief shuddered through me when he lowered the weapon and stepped to the window. Georgina had done what I couldn’t and made the man see sense.
Then came the sound I’d dreaded. The cocking of the pistol. “Very good, my dear. I almost believed you.”
“Wait! She’s telling the truth. My father’s Ben Cartwright. He owns the Ponderosa.”
“Hey, Boss. I’ve heard of the Ponderosa. It’s a real big spread.”
“The biggest in Nevada.” Now, De Lancey had to listen. I gave it everything I had. “She’s right. My father will be heading this way with a dozen men at his back. He’s gonna bring the law right to your door, and if anything happens to us, believe me, there isn’t anywhere far enough or dark enough you can hide!”
“And what will he be able to prove?”
The man’s arrogance was unshakeable. Terror swept through me when he moved.
“For God’s sake, man, stop! She’s your wife.”
De Lancey leaned toward me. That Southern drawl hissing into my face. “That’s right. My wife. My property.”
I twisted to face Cobb. “You can’t let him do this. It’s murder! You’ve got to stop him.” I was wasting my time. This man had long since given up any scrap of decency to harness himself to De Lancey’s wagon.
Georgina shrank back into her seat, staring up at her husband. I called to her. “Look at me.” When her gaze met mine, I held it. “It’s all right. It’ll be all right. Just keep looking at me.”
I had to get through to De Lancey. “Listen! Just put the gun down and think. You’re right, she does belong to you. She’ll do whatever you tell her. You don’t need to do this. Please, just don’t hurt her.” I writhed in my seat, struggling against Cobb and the ropes. Panic tore through my chest when De Lancey pressed the pistol against Georgina’s temple. “You can’t!” Cobb’s arm wrapped around my shoulders, holding me down. The chair rocked as we struggled. “Don’t do this! I’m begging you. Please!”
“Joe.”
Her soft call cut through the chaos. Our eyes met, and for that fleeting passage of time, there was only us.
In that last heartbeat, I told her, “I love you.”
~~~
There was no air in the room, just heat and dust and silence. My arms, clamped in shackles and stretched above my head, were numb. Stripped naked, I hung from the rafters like the carcass of a dead steer. That’s all I was now—a piece of meat.
Head down, my gaze stayed on the ground, moving slowly as I turned. I couldn’t stop the motion any more than the vibration in my muscles, or putting my feet flat. I knew every inch of the tiny shack, so I didn’t look up until I reached that one place, the corner where they dumped her like trash. There, I always looked up.
They’d given me water yesterday. At least, I think it was yesterday. Cobb left the bucket a few feet away. I could smell the water. Taste it. But I couldn’t reach it. They wanted to kill me slow, but I wasn’t about to die. Not yet. I’d keep breathing, drawing in air through a chest that hurt and lungs that screamed. I didn’t care. I had a job to do first.
I didn’t look anymore when the door opened. No point. I knew who it was. De Lancey and Cobb to give me another workout.
They wanted to make me scream, so I gave it to them, good and loud. That way, Cobb didn’t pound me so hard or for so long. Yesterday ended with the birch. This morning, the belt. Tomorrow – maybe Cobb’s fists again. Who knows what will take De Lancey’s sick fancy? I blinked away the sweat, and inches from mine, the man’s blurred face came into focus.
“Tell me, Joe. Do you have something to say?” The look in my eyes gave him my answer. It wasn’t what he wanted, and a snarl twisted his mouth. “You’ll be begging me soon enough. Begging me to end your miserable life.”
I managed a chuckle. It cost me another blow from Cobb, but it was worth it to see De Lancey slam out of the hut. Guess I wasn’t cooperating.
They’d be back, but for now, I was alone again with the heat, dust, and emptiness where my heart should be.
The tickle on my cheek made me turn my head. I looked into Georgina’s eyes. When she smiled, they lit up with light and crinkled at the edges. My fingers brushed aside the grass she was flicking over my skin. Laughing, I put out my hand to cup her face—
I opened my eyes. She was gone, and I’d never hold her again. Then. I cried.
***
Chapter Twenty-Two
We kicked in the door, letting in the light, and covered our noses against the smell. I’d have recognized the stench ten feet away. Death. My brother filled the middle of the shack. Hung like a butchered deer and covered in welts and bruises, he looked like he was hanging onto life. In one corner, there lay some poor lady who’d long since had her hold broken.
Reaching Joe’s side, I noticed the swelling around his left wrist, meaning a likely break. Pa was almost beside himself when we realized Joe was shackled, not tied with rope, and we couldn’t get him down. I calmed him best I could so he’d listen when I told him I’d go find the key.
I rushed out to find Marshal Flint’s deputies, who, along with the hands we’d brought with us, were rounding up the galoots who helped run this rotten place. None of them were in any mood to cooperate.
Hearing me mention Joe’s name, a young fella standing with all the black folk stepped forward. “Is Joe alive?”
“Yeah. But they got him chained up, and I need the key.”
In an instant, he pointed me toward a big, ugly brute. “That’s Cobb. He’s the foreman. He has the keys.”
This was the man I wanted. After shaking him ‘til his teeth rattled, he gave up the key.
“D’you need help, Hoss?”
I turned to the deputy. “No. Pa and I can manage.”
Racing back, I found Pa holding Joe’s head so he could get water into him. The anguish in his soft words, begging my little brother to drink, brought a lump to my throat.
Pa insisted on unlocking those dadburned shackles, and released from their bondage, Joe’s arms fell to his side. He swayed for a fraction of a moment before dropping into my arms.
His eyes locked on one thing, and he began to twist free. Lord knows I did my best to hang onto him, but he fought loose.
With every stubborn bone in his battered body, Joseph hauled himself inch by inch. There was pain in his gritted teeth and the new layers of sweat that beaded. But he kept going until he reached the side of that poor lady lying in the corner.
Why we didn’t stop him, I don’t know, but Pa and me couldn’t move a muscle. It was Pa’s hand on my arm that brought me out of my appalled stillness, and together, we dropped to our knees beside him.
“Joe, don’t.” Pa didn’t want him to see what had become of that lady. But, by the way he drew her into his arms, stroked her blood-soaked hair, and ran his fingers down her cheek, he didn’t even see the tragedy left behind.
Pa’s hands hovered over my brother as if he didn’t know where to lay them without adding further pain. “We’re here, Son.”
There was no sound except Joe’s breath, drawn in long rasps. At long last, his gaze shifted, and he looked at Pa. “He killed her, Pa. He killed her.”
“I’m sorry, Son.” Turning to me, Pa asked, “See if you can find something to cover him with.”
This time, I wasn’t reluctant to leave them. Glad to be doing something other than looking into Joe’s eyes.
I didn’t have to go far. I found Joe’s clothes tossed in a heap outside the cabin. Before we could think of dressing him, we had to convince him to let go of the lady. It took patience, but Joe snapped out of the trance he was in and laid her down.
Pa’s eyes filled with tears, and he apologized for every moan when we eased my brother’s pants over those bruised and cut legs. Turning Joe’s left hand in his, Pa took in the mottled, swollen, torn flesh around the wrist. The other wasn’t much better, but at least it didn’t look broken. We didn’t bother with the boots when we saw the soles of his feet.
“Someone’s taken a birch to them.” I heard the anger in Pa’s voice. I felt the same.
Once we made him decent, we hauled Joe out into the light and fresh air. He recoiled for a moment at the brightness and then looked around. Men with badges and our own hands had the so-called overseers bundled together and handcuffed, and the poor folks who’d been kept here as slaves were all gathering in front of the rows of huts.
Seeing the men with badges along with our hands, a smile cracked Joe’s dry, cut, swollen lips, and he turned to Pa. “You came … and you brought help.”
“Yes, Son. We came. Now let’s get you to town to a doctor.”
Joe recoiled again. “No! Get me to the house. I need to find De Lancey.”
“Joseph—”
“Pa. I won’t leave until I see him.”
Over his head, Pa and me exchanged looks. Joe was more likely to hurt himself fighting us if we didn’t do as he asked. Hoisting his good arm further over my shoulder, we turned toward the house.
When he saw us, Candy broke away from the group of men outside the property and ran up. The smile on his face died when he got close enough to see my brother. “It’s good to see you.”
Joe skipped the pleasantries. “Where’s De Lancey?”
“The marshal says he’s in the house. He’s about to go in and arrest him.”
“I want to be the one to do it.”
“You’re in no condition—”
“Don’t fight me on this, Pa.”
“I’m not going to fight you, Joseph. I just don’t see how you’re going to make it in there by yourself.”
“I’ll make it. Hoss, I need your gun.”
Whatever this was about, it didn’t sound good. I looked at Pa, who bowed his head. He was leaving this to me. “Joe, I don’t ….” I couldn’t finish. The look in my brother’s eyes wasn’t something I could ignore or refuse. I handed over my pistol, and Joe took it in his shaking right hand.
Marshal Fleet stood within the large double front door. Seeing Pa, he nodded.
“We’re told De Lancey has locked himself in his study. We’re gonna go in now.”
“I’m going in first.”
Flint frowned at Joe but held his peace. We walked across the hall, Joe’s feet leaving a trail of blood on the polished wood. Pa shook his head and tightened his jaw. I don’t even know how Joe made it, but he did.
The marshal hammered on the door. “Mr. De Lancey, this is US Marshal Flint. Open the door. We want to talk to you.”
We waited for an answer, for the door to open. Joe swayed and hung on tight to my gun. We all jumped at the explosion from inside the room.
“What the hell—?” The Marshall moved but stopped when the lock in the door turned.
A colored gent with a head full of snow-white hair appeared. Stepping through, he lifted a hand toward the room. “You can go in, Gentleman. Master Preston just done killed hisself.”
When my brother dropped, I was there to catch him.
We buried Georgina in the town cemetery two days later. Joe hadn’t told us much about her, other than she was De Lancey’s wife and a friend who’d died because she tried to help him. After what we’d witnessed, Pa and me weren’t buying that story, but for now, we let it ride. Nothing we could’ve said would’ve kept Joe away from the funeral, so we didn’t bother to object. I held Joe up throughout. But once the service was done, so was Joe.
By the time we reached our hotel room, he was out like a light. We stripped off the fresh clothes we’d brought with us and put him back to bed.
Pa dropped back into the chair he had moved to the bedroom, and I dropped my hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go order lunch.”
“Thanks, Son.”
Stopping in the doorway, I took another look at my brother’s battered face. It was sure good to see him. After almost four months of searching, worrying, and wondering, the letter, addressed to a wife Candy didn’t have, finally brought us hope. Joe mightn’t have said much since we’d arrived, but we were here now, and we’d stay right by his side.
***
Chapter Twenty-Three
I turned the lamp up and smiled. “Hey there, Little Brother, how you doin’?”
Joe blinked and croaked, “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is you’ve been asleep for three days straight. Wanna drink or something to eat?”
“Water?”
“You got it.” I helped Joe sit up before passing him the glass. He put out his hand and stopped short, seeing the splint on his wrist. “Doc says the swelling needs to go down some before he can put on a cast.”
Grunting, he took the glass in his other hand and downed the water in one swallow. “Thanks.”
“Sure you ain’t hungry? Pa’s got the café next door on standby in case you woke up.”
My brother’s chuckle was a welcome sound. “Nah. Is Pa here?”
“Right next door. I’ll go get him.”
“No. Let him sleep.” Our eyes met, and Joe rolled his. “All right.”
I grinned and left the room. Less than a minute later, we were back, and Pa went right to Joe’s side. “Well. You’re looking better. How’re you feeling?”
“Fine, Pa.” Joe fixed me with a look when Pa felt his brow. I bit my lip and tried not to laugh. “I’m fine, really, Pa.”
“The fever seems to be gone.”
“Fever?”
“That’s right. You’ve been out of it for quite a while, young man.”
“Oh.” Pushing himself further up the bed, my brother brushed the talk of his health aside. “What’s happened at The Kingdom? How’re Noah, Isaac, and the others?”
“They’re all staying on the estate while we try to sort things out. The marshal has rounded up all of De Lancey’s men and put them in jail. Along with the sheriff and the judge.”
“Good. They were up to their necks in what De Lancey was doing.”
“So I understand. De Lancey’s lawyer is contacting his heir. I’ve spoken to him about seeing to it that all those people get the opportunity to make a fresh start.”
“They’ve earned that right.”
“You bet,” I agreed. “How did you get mixed up in this mess anyhow?”
“I stopped to help someone and caught on to what kind of operation De Lancey was running. Once that happened, he couldn’t let me go.”
Pa’s hand closed around Joe’s arm. Ever since we found him, Pa felt the need to reassure himself that my brother was really here. “We’re just glad you’re safe.”
“I’m just glad you found me.”
“Once Candy showed us that letter, which was clever of you—”
“Always said you were smarter than you looked, Little Brother.”
“Thanks!”
“Anyway,” Pa continued, daring me to interrupt again. “After we read the letter, we gathered up some men and headed for Sacramento to pay a call at the US Marshal’s office. It seems there’d been talk, and they already had eyes on De Lancey. Once I showed them the letter, they were prepared to come and talk with him.”
“Did you? Talk with him?”
Pa flicked a glance at me. Joe’s recollection seemed sketchy, but that was to be expected, given the fever.
“No. We never spoke with De Lancey. When we reached Chadstone, Marshal Fleet called on the sheriff. He wasn’t there, but a deputy was. The more questions Flint asked, the more nervous he got. When Flint pushed the man, he told us everything.
“When we rode up to the house asking for De Lancey, his men took one look at the badges, and panic set in. They scattered, so we started rounding them up.”
I picked up the story. “Once we’d done that, all I had to do was ask one of them about you, and he showed us where you were.” Joe’s gaze met mine. He knew my asking had involved more than words.
“Thought I heard voices.” Candy leaned against the door jamb with that big, easy grin on his face. “Good to see you awake, buddy.”
“You here, too?”
The grin widened. “Your pa made me come.”
Hearing the strain in his laugh, I cut a look at Joe. He was about done in, and I wasn’t the only one to notice.
“All right. That’s enough for tonight. Joe needs his rest, and so do we.”
***
Chapter Twenty-Four
The smell of bacon brought me out of my bedroom to find Pa closing the door to Joe’s.
“How is he?”
“Sleeping. Let’s eat. Joe can have his later when he wakes.”
I sat at the table where breakfast had been delivered and ladled eggs onto my plate. “Where’s Candy? He was already gone when I woke up.”
“He went to check on the men. There’s no reason for them to stay. I’ve told him he could get them organized and head back to the ranch.”
“Good idea.”
“I need to speak with the marshal. Can you stay and see that Joe eats something?
“Sure.”
When we finished eating and Pa left, I took a cup of coffee and strolled into Joe’s room. Soon as I sat down, he stirred,
“That coffee I smell?”
“Sure is. Want some?”
“God, yes.”
Fetching a fresh cup, I handed it over. Joe held it under his nose and breathed in the aroma as if he were smelling it for the first time. When he took a sip, his smile was pure joy.
“I’ve missed this.”
“Didn’t you have any in that place?”
Joe shook his head and took another swallow. “The master didn’t allow it.”
I heard the bitterness in the words. I wanted to know more about what had happened, but business first. “I’ll order your breakfast.”
When I returned to the room after speaking with the bellhop, I brought the coffee pot and topped off Joe’s cup. He asked where Pa was, and when I told him, I caught the calculation that crossed his eyes and braced myself.
“I need to get to The Kingdom. See Noah and the others. Make sure they’re all right and find Cochise. De Lancey kept him.”
I lifted one hand to stop him. “You don’t hav’ta worry about him. I spotted Cochise and brought him back here. He’s in the livery.”
“Great. Can you saddle him and bring him round?”
“Don’t you just about beat all. In case you didn’t notice, those fellas worked you over real good. You’ve got a busted wrist and likely a few ribs the same way. You ain’t in any state to go for a ride.”
“All right. Hire a buggy—”
“Joseph! I ain’ taking you nowhere. It’s over a two-hour drive to that Kingdom place. You wouldn’t make it halfway, and I sure don’t wanna be the one to explain to Pa why you’ve had a relapse.”
“I can make it. I have to see the others.”
Joe could be a stubborn cuss when he wanted, and I wasn’t about to argue with an invalid. The knock that meant his breakfast had arrived gave me a welcome diversion.
“I tell you what. You eat your breakfast, an’ then we’ll talk.”
Joe managed to eat half a plate of food before his strength gave out, and I had to help him finish the rest.
“Still think you can make it?”
“All right, so I’m too weak to move. Happy now?”
“No, I ain’t, and you saying that is just more proof that you ain’t yourself.”
Joe had the decency to look ashamed. “Sorry.”
“There’s a newspaper if you wanna read it.”
“No. I’m tired. I guess I’ll sleep some more.”
“Fair enough.”
In my book, sleep was always the best medicine, so I left Joe alone. Wandering to the window, I looked down onto the main street. Chadstone was a prosperous little town, but I couldn’t help but wonder how much of that came about off the backs of those poor folks out at that so-called Kingdom. How many in Chadstone had turned a blind eye to what De Lancey was doing? It was hard to believe only the judge and sheriff knew. I always tried to look for the good in folks, but anyone sitting back and letting slavery continue under their noses were as bad as De Lancey in my book.
Joe slept on and off throughout the day, but when meals came, he ate hearty, and by supper time, he’d cleaned a plate by himself.
The following morning, we saw Candy and the men off. Pa thanked them all again for coming along and promised a bonus in their pay.
“Good men,” Pa murmured.
“They sure are.”
One extra man went with them. Young Jess had accepted the job Pa offered him.
Pa slapped me on the shoulder. “I want to call in on Fletcher. See how he’s doing. I’ll be back in time for the doctor’s visit.”
I watched my father march off toward De Lancey’s lawyers’ office. I hadn’t taken to the man. In my way of thinking, he should’ve been in jail alongside the judge and sheriff.
When I got back to our suite, I heard movement from Joe’s room. My suspicions raised, I tiptoed to the door and took a peek. There he was, sat on the side of the bed, eyeing the chair where his clothes were laid. I backed away. He hadn’t heard me come in, and I wasn’t about to let that silver-tongue devil know I was there. Settling into an armchair, I waited.
I’ll say one thing for my little brother—he doesn’t give up. It took him almost half an hour, but when he appeared at the door, he’d dressed hisself—sort of. It ain’t easy to dress one-handed, and it showed. He’d hauled his pants and shirt on, but the buttons were done up all higgledy, piggledy, and he was barefoot. He jumped seeing me, but then hobbled forward on the outside edges of his torn-up feet.
“Going somewhere?”
That mile-wide stubborn streak showed on his face. “I need to see the others.”
“And just how d’you think you’re getting past me out that door? I could knock you down with a feather.”
Joe hauled in as deep a breath as he could over his bound ribs and glared. Then, his shoulders slumped, and he gazed at me with eyes that radiated sadness. “Please.”
“Joseph, if you ain’t gonna be the death of me. All right. Let’s see if we can’t get your socks and boots on.”
When I returned with the hired buggy, Joe had already made his way downstairs and was waiting for me. I climbed out to help him, but he shook me off like the stubborn mule he was. To my surprise, he scooted across the buggy seat and grabbed the rein.
“Get in!”
“What’s the dadburned hurry?” Looking up, I saw Pa, who had spotted us and came running down the street. “Oh, Jiminy!”
Joe snapped the reins, and the buggy leaped forward. “See you later, Pa. We’re going to The Kingdom.”
I slew around in the seat as we swung away and gave my father a hapless smile and a wave.
“Wait! What about the doc—”
The rest of his words were lost as we cantered out of town.
I cut Joe a look. “Ain’t that just like you, Joseph, to do the deed first and ask Pa’s forgiveness later.”
“I’m a grown man. I don’t need his permission.”
“I guess that’s why you’re racing out of here like you’ve got the devil on your tail.”
Joe checked the horse, handed me the reins, and shrugged. “You know, Pa.”
“He’s gonna be mad when we get back.”
Joe chuckled, leaned back in his seat, and tipped his hat over his face. “I can handle Pa.”
When I snorted, Joe lifted his hat and gave me that wide-eyed, indignant look. “I can!” Dropping the hat back down, he added, “Wake me when we get there. That way, you can tell Pa I got some rest. Keep you in his good books, in case you’re worried.”
I had half a mind to turn the buggy around for that crack.
Little Brother could sleep anywhere, and he was soon dozing in the sunshine, but I didn’t need to wake him. When I checked the horse to turn into the drive leading up to the house, he stirred and sat up. We passed fields and groves of trees, all deserted. Joe looked about him but said nothing.
Directing me to the quarters, we passed the big house. The doors shut tight, and the place empty.
When we drew up outside the rows of shacks, people came running. I helped Joe from the buggy, and they took over, leading him to a seat and asking if he was all right.
Joe introduced me to all the folks, and I shook hands with Noah, Isaac, and Esther. She teared up, seeing Joe’s wrist, cuts, and bruises.
Isaac took his good hand. “They told us you was dead. It was only when we saw you that day we knew any different. If we’d known—”
Joe stopped him there. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”
“Is it true, Joe? All his time we’ve been free?” Esther asked.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”
“You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for. Noah told us all about your plan. And it worked.” The little woman met Joe’s gaze and cried out, “Oh, Joe. What he did to poor Miss Georgina ….”
I’d seen my younger brother comfort a stranger just with a look, but today was different. Sure, he put his arms around his friend, but every tense sinew showed how he crushed down his feelings. He wasn’t letting anything out. “I just wish—”
Esther stepped back and clamped her hands on Joe’s cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Don’t you go wishing for things that can’t be, and carrying any guilt, y’hear? There’s only one person at fault, and that’s the master.”
The shadow didn’t lift from Joe’s eyes, but he told her, “I know.”
Esther’s smile were about the saddest I’d ever seen. But she patted his chest and nodded. “Good, boy.”
Joe took a breath and asked if they needed anything. Although they said they were good, I made a mental note to bring out supplies.
Meanwhile, Joe addressed the questions he’d come to ask Noah. “What happened that day?”
“Master Preston was checking on the orange groves when word reached him those lawmen had arrived. When he got back to the house, he were furious. Someone brought news that they’d arrested Cobb and found you and Miss Georgina. That’s when he ordered me to follow him into his study and locked the door. It was the last thing I thought he’d do. When the Marshal knocked, I looked away, and that’s when it happened.”
“He shot himself?”
“With that pistol he kept in his desk.”
“That’s it? Just like that, he killed himself?”
“Yes.”
Joe fell silent, gazing at the ground. I eased my hand over his shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Lunch’ll be ready soon. Stay and eat with us.”
We were happy to accept Esther’s invitation, and after we’d eaten, Joe said goodbye to his friends, promising to visit them again. Neither of us talked about Pa’s efforts with the lawyer. There was no point in getting anyone’s hopes up.
The drive back started in silence, with Joe staring off into the distance. But I had a question of my own, and now seemed as good a time as any to ask it.
“What was she like?”
“Who?”
“Miss Georgina?”
“Beautiful, Hoss, just beautiful.” It was hard to imagine the poor lady I’d seen being beautiful, and that wasn’t what I’d meant, but I didn’t say so. Just when I thought Joe wouldn’t say anymore, he went on, “She was gentle and kind to everyone. And yet, she was the bravest person I’ve ever known. A good friend.”
“And that’s all she was? A friend?”
“What does that mean?”
“You said she were beautiful.”
“She was married, remember?”
“Yeah, but I can understand—”
“There’s nothing to understand!”
I didn’t believe him, but when Joe got that look in his eyes, I knew better than to press. Silence fell again, and this time, it continued until we hit town.
“Oh, lordy.” There was Pa, hands on hips, standing on the hotel porch waiting. When I pulled up, he marched across. “Hi, Pa. Can you give Joe a hand?”
After giving Younger Brother a helpful push out of the buggy, I hightailed it out of there. This trip had been Joe’s idea, and, like he said, he could handle Pa.
In no hurry to get back to the hotel, I hung around in the livery, shooting the breeze with the owner.
“Still here?”
“Oh, hi, Pa. Joe.”
“Your brother has seen the doctor, and now we’re going to the saloon. Care to join us?”
I ignored Pa’s tone and smiled. “Sure. What’d the doctor say, Joe?”
“He said I’m fine, and all I need—”
“Don’t tell me. Good food and plenty of rest.”
Joe laughed and slapped me on the back. “How’d you know?”
“You’re not the only smart one.”
Pa wasn’t having any of our foolishness. “He also said you should stay off those feet. So, let’s get you inside and into a chair.”
I grinned at Joe and followed as he limped through the batwings.
Pa ordered steak dinners to go along with the beers, and a pretty little girl soon brought three glasses over. Joe picked his up in a hand that shook, held it up to the light, and then took a long pull before setting it down.
“How’d it taste, Little Brother?”
“The best.”
Joe wasn’t wrong. The beer was good. Our dinner arrived, and I clapped my hands together at the size of the juicy steaks, accompanied by mashed potatoes, greens, and thick onion gravy. “Hot diggity, this looks good too.”
The saloon was busy, and the room hummed around us with the usual chit-chat between men who’d come together to catch up on life and the world. I’d plowed through my plate when the topic around us turned to De Lancey, and voices began to rise.
“So what, if he kept a few negroes? A fella shouldn’t get arrested for that, should he?” General murmurs of agreement followed. I flicked a look at Joe and saw the tension tighten his jaw. “And it ain’t right for a white man getting killed over ‘em.”
“He weren’t killed. He killed hisself.”
“How d’you know? Maybe that Yankee marshal’s lyin’. De Lancey’s a Southerner, remember. That land of his is worth a lot. Be just like the Yankees to use a bunch of stinking negroes as an excuse to steal a Southerner’s land. They’ve done it all over the South!”
Joe’s fingers tightened into fists, and Pa stood. “Let’s go.”
We breathed in fresh air. There was no need to say anything. We were thinking the same. In one mind, we headed for the hotel. Joe’s feet dragged on the wooden boardwalk. Stiffening his back, he tried to hide it. I slipped a hand under his arm. He leaned into my grip and kept going.
***
Chapter Twenty-Five
Joe came with me to the mercantile to help choose the supplies for the folks out at The Kingdom. I loaded up the hired buckboard with food, clothes, soap, and anything else we could think of, including some sweets and toys for the kids. Then we headed out.
This time, Pa rode along with us. When Noah and Isaac balked at the gifts, he stepped in. “I owe you all for helping my son. Let me do this small thing to say thank you.”
No one argued with Pa when he were in the mood to be persuasive, and he got his way. Once we’d uploaded the boxes and barrels, we left. We wanted to give everyone their privacy and time to go through everything without us gawking at them.
The doc returned to check Joe’s wrist, remove the splint, and slap on a cast. My brother’s attitude to the man had improved. When Pa’d first brought the doctor in, he’d thrown a fit. Screaming to get the man away from him. Joe needed that doctor, so there was no way Pa and me were doing that. But nothing we said calmed him down. My brother had been beaten half to death, yet he fought like a grizzly. In the end, we had to hold him while the doc knocked him out with one of those new-fangled needles by giving him an injection of something. It were likely for the best since the wrist needed resetting anyway. But we were both shaken, and once we released Joe, Pa collapsed into a chair and stayed there ’til the examination was over.
“What was that with you and the doc anyway?” I asked.
Joe looked from his drying cast to me. “Huh?”
“You were dead against seeing him, and then you’re nice as pie.”
“He told me he’s only been here since the Spring.”
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
“When a fever hit the quarters last winter, the doctor they had then refused to treat them. People died.”
I nodded. I understood why my brother didn’t want that doctor touching him. I would’ve felt the same way.
Joe on the mend meant Pa was keen to return home, but we all knew that wasn’t going to happen until things were settled for Noah and the others. A knock at the door of our suite brought a message.
“It’s from Fletcher. He’s heard from the heir and wants to see me.”
Joe sat up, tossing the newspaper he was reading aside. “Good. Those people have waited long enough to get what’s rightfully theirs.”
Grabbing our hats, we trod down to the lawyer’s office. His secretary showed us in.
“Good to see you, gentleman. Have a seat.”
“You have news for us, Mr. Fletcher?”
“Indeed. Mr. De Lancey’s heir has instructed me to sell the property. Whole or in parcels and clear any outstanding debts.”
“Good. And the people?”
“Well, of course, he was shocked to hear of that situation and is insistent that they be compensated. I have suggested a figure of five hundred dollars.”
Beside me, Joe stiffened in his chair. Pa leaned forward. “Each?”
“Good heavens, no. That will be the full amount.”
“Mr. Fletcher, those people worked without pay for two years. A good farmhand can expect to earn twenty dollars a month. By my reckoning, they’re owed over four hundred dollars each.”
“Let’s not forget the children,” Joe snapped.
The lawyer’s eyes bulged. “You can’t be serious? That would be a huge burden on the estate. I can’t, in all conscience, countenance that. And after all, Mr. Cartwright, we are speaking of negroes, not—”
The explosion that flew toward him was my little brother. Grabbing the lawyer by the lapels, he hauled him across the desk, sending paper, pens, and inkwell flying.
Pa rose. “Joe, your wrist!” But Joe wasn’t listening.
Nose to nose, he pinned Fletcher with a glare. “Listen to me, you money-grubbing little weasel! I was there in those fields. Nobody worked. Those people slaved and died. But those people at The Kingdom survived, and they deserve every penny that’s due to them. And if you try and tell me that they don’t deserve it because they’re black, I’m going to rip out your filthy tongue and stuff it down your throat.”
“And I’m gonna help him.” I stood, letting my full size and height impress on the snake.
Joe threw the man back. He crashed into his chair and fumbled to straighten himself. “How dare you?”
Pa’s voice shut his mouth. “He dares Mr. Fletcher because he’s right. And I’ll tell you another thing. If there is any more penny-pinching or arguing, I’ll have the marshal over here to inspect your files and see just how much you knew about De Lancey’s illegal slaves. Shall we agree on a sum of twenty thousand all told?”
Fletcher knew when he was beat. Trying to rearrange his mangled collar and tie, he pulled himself together. “Very well. I’ll arrange for the withdrawal from the bank. Would the day after tomorrow be agreeable?”
“We’ll be here.”
***
Chapter Twenty-Six
Wherever I looked, someone was loading a covered wagon. Noah, Pa, and me visited three different towns to find the number needed. We’d gone along to make sure Noah got treated right. These people had been dealt a raw enough deal, and we weren’t about to see them gouged.
Joe stayed behind, although he didn’t get to sit around on his hiney all day. He had the job of teaching the men some of the essentials they’d need for their new life—like how to handle a rifle. These folks would need to be able to hunt and defend themselves.
Pa tried a few times to get Noah to consider making the Ponderosa their new home, telling him of the land ripe for the plow, but Noah had his own ideas.
“My people were born into a life of working the land. It’s all they’ve known. I want something more for them. Thanks to you, we can find a place of our own. Big enough for all of us. Hire a teacher for our children and those who can’t read. Build a better future. We’ll farm for ourselves, but for no one else ever again.”
My father understood and threw himself into helping Noah achieve that dream. Now, he stood before that proud man to say goodbye for the last time. “I wish you all lots of luck.”
“You’ve helped make this possible, Ben. I thank you.”
Noah walked away to supervise some of the last-minute packing. I joined Pa, who welcomed me with an arm around my shoulder.
“D’you think they’ll be all right?”
“I think they’ll do just fine.”
“Won’t be easy. There’s still plenty of folks who feel like those men we heard in the saloon.”
“Yes. But, they’ve got each other, Son. That makes a world of difference.” Pa looked around and asked, “Where’s that brother of yours got to? They’ll be leaving soon.”
“I’ll go find him.”
I had no luck searching among the wagons, but then I spotted Joe and Noah ducking into one of the shacks. When I got close, I heard Noah say, “What do you want to ask me?”
I stepped close enough to see through the small window. Something told me not to disturb them, but though it wasn’t right to eavesdrop, I couldn’t walk away.
“That day. I just don’t understand what happened. De Lancey believed in his right to do everything he did and that nothing could touch him. Even with my testimony, he was arrogant enough to think he could talk or buy his way out of trouble. He wasn’t the kind of man to kill himself.”
“If you say so.”
“So why did he do it? Why shoot himself when he would’ve believed he’d have every chance of walking away unscathed?” My brother’s gaze held Noah’s. “Did he? Did he do it? I need to know the truth, for her sake.”
“For her sake, I will tell you. Master Preston was in his study, just as I said. But it was like you say. He was bragging about his friends in high places and how he could buy his way out of trouble. That’s when I knew. I couldn’t let it continue. I couldn’t risk him getting away with what he’d done to Miss Georgina.
“All I had to do was take that pistol out of the drawer. He never expected it. Why would he? I was the perfect slave. Invisible. I’ve never taken a life, and I hope I never will again. I will carry it on my conscience forever.”
Joe stood with his back to me, but I could see how his muscles tensed under his shirt. “You could’ve left him to me.”
“I thought you were dead. But I’m not sorry I didn’t. She wouldn’t have wanted you to carry such a burden.”
Silence fell. After a long moment, Joe asked, “Did he know why?”
“Yes. He knew.”
I ducked around the corner when Noah left, so he didn’t see me. Coming out of hiding, I peeked back through the window. Head down, leaning on a chair, Joe clung to the back so tight his knuckles stood out white. His shoulders shook from the grief that gripped him. I walked away.
Pa wasn’t happy I couldn’t find Joe, but he needn’t have worried. Little Brother turned up looking fresh and in control right on time to see the wagon train off.
Getting a wave from Martha as they rattled past, Joe called, “Write when you’re settled and tell us where you are!”
I dropped an arm around Joe’s shoulder and leaned into him. Would they write, or would they want to leave everything about this old life behind? Either way, I hoped they’d be happy.
***
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Ponderosa was still there, the same as when we’d left it. Pa had wired Candy a few days out to let him know when to expect us, so Hop Sing had the welcome mat rolled out and waiting.
Joe was on light duties, but Pa was glad to have everyone home and see life return to normal. But if my father didn’t notice Joe’s moodiness and the way he’d go off by himself, I did, and I told him so.
“It ain’t right. He ain’t said a word about that little gal, and it’s eating him up inside. Why don’t he just spit it out?”
“She was a married lady. To talk about her falling in love with another man… no. Your brother isn’t going to sully her reputation.”
“C’mon, Pa. He knows better than to think we’d care about that.” Pa’s expression changed, and I frowned. “You don’t do you?”
The look he shot made me regret asking. “Of course not. We need to give him time. You know Joe. He’ll come around and talk when he’s ready.”
This was the usual tactic we took with my younger brother, but this time, he didn’t seem to be working around to talking. Cooling faster than the weather was closer to his mood. Joe and me had always been close, like two parts of the same coin, and I missed that. Life weren’t as much fun without Joe to laugh with.
I watched him over the breakfast table, talking over the day’s work with Pa. He was always business now, and that spark in his eyes had died.
“We need to get on with fixing that line shack up on the West-forty.”
Joe wiped his napkin over his mouth. “I’ll do that.”
“I’ll come with you. Give you a hand.”
Shooting me a look, Joe crumpled his napkin. “I can manage.”
“Sure you can, but I ain’t got nothing else pressing. Ain’t that right, Pa?”
Pa cleared his throat. “No, no. That’s a good idea. You’ll get the job done in half the time.”
A muscle worked in Joe’s jaw, but he didn’t voice his objection. “See you outside.”
“Be right with you.”
The ride out to the line shack weren’t much fun. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get a conversation going. We unloaded the wood needed to replace the damaged roof, and Joe wasted no time getting to work.
When he finally climbed down, I offered him my canteen and took my shot. “I know you’re hurting over that girl. I wish you’d talk about her.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“Look, Pa and me ain’t blind. We know you loved her. But we understand, and you don’t hav’ta be ashamed.”
“What’re you talking about?”
I shifted my feet under his icy glare. Maybe I should’ve thought this through. “I mean, we figured because she was married—”
“You think I’m ashamed? Loving Georgina? I’m not, and neither was she. We were going to be married. That’s all that matters. I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks.”
Joe slammed the canteen against my chest and turned to march back to the shack. I called after him, “Then why won’t you talk about her?”
The raw grief that lined his face when Joe spun around sent a jolt right through me. “I can’t! If I think about what I did, I won’t be able to bear it.”
“Joe, you didn’t do nothing. De Lancey killed her.”
“But I promised her, Hoss. I promised her it would be all right. I promised her she’d be safe.” Joe raised his face to the sky, his voice breaking on his words. “I told her I’d never let anyone hurt her.” Through the eyes of a broken man, my little brother looked at me. “And he killed her, right in front of me. I couldn’t stop him, Hoss. I couldn’t stop him.”
Joe turned away, but three strides took me to him. With one arm around him, I pulled him into my chest. I said all the things a man should say. How much he heard, I don’t know, but I knew he understood.
We sat side by side on the bench outside the shack, and Joe told me about Georgina. All the little things he’d loved, like the way she smiled and how her eyes crinkled when she laughed. More than that, he told me about her bravery. “She chose to fight back. To risk everything. For me, for us.”
When he finished, I pulled out the bottle of Red Eye I’d brought with me — just in case. We drank in silence, our words no longer needed.
The afternoon moved toward evening, and I began to think about cooking supper. We’d need some food after the whiskey. Joe followed me to the shack and leaned against the jamb, watching me stuff kindling into the stove.
“So Pa is okay with my being with a married woman?”
“I ain’t so sure Pa knows that exactly. But he knows Georgina fell in love with you even though she were married, and he figured you wanted to protect her reputation.”
“I guess it mightn’t be a bad idea to let Pa think that.”
I grinned. “You always were the smart one, Joseph.”
When I rode in two days later, Pa and Joe were sitting on the porch. I always knew when they’d talked. There was just something in the way they looked at each other, with that mutual understanding, respect, and love. I smiled. That talk meant Joe was on the way to healing.
One thing, though, had become a regular topic of complaint, and that was the length of time it was taking to arrange the trial for Cobb and the others.
A week later, Joe and I walked back into the house, and Pa looked up from his desk. “Joe, I need to speak with you. I’ve had a letter from Marshal Flint.”
Tossing his hat on the credenza, Joe began unbuttoning his coat while he walked to the desk. “Has he got a trial date at last?”
The expression on Pa’s face brought me over to stand at my brother’s side.
“There isn’t going to be a trial. The Prosecuting Attorney has decided that with De Lancey’s death, pursuing a case against the others for not revealing his illegally kept slaves is not worth the cost.”
“What they mean is, they don’t care enough to bring a case.”
“They think that with the tensions after the war, it’s best to drop the matter.”
“What about Cobb? He was right there when De Lancey murdered Georgina and did nothing.”
My father glanced again at the letter in his hand, and a gleam of the anger he was feeling flashed across his eyes. “Since he didn’t actually commit the crime, they don’t feel there’s a case to answer. I’m sorry, Son.”
When Joe marched out the door, I followed right behind. Whatever he needed, I’d give it, and that included being the person he could take a swing at if that helped. Although I was grateful he didn’t. Joe swung a lot harder these days.
Joe didn’t take the news lying down. He wrote to the District Attorney, the Governor of California, the newspapers, anyone he could think of, but nothing came of it. Everyone was glad to let the ugly matter drop with the death of De Lancey and the sale of The Kingdom.
The work of the Ponderosa filled our days, and our frustrations got buried under the load. Joe grieved, and we kept him close for a while. Some days were better than others. On those nights when I heard him pass my door, I’d come down the stairs and join my brother as he sat staring into the embers of the banked fire. Grabbing a couple of glasses, I’d pour the brandy. The toast was always the same. “Georgina.”
***
Epilogue:
I dropped the mail on Pa’s desk, walked over to where Joe lay sprawled on the sofa, and waved the envelope under his nose.
“Got yourself one, too.”
Sitting up, he scrunched up his nose, looking at the postmark stamped on the top. “Ventura, California. Who can that be from? I don’t know anyone down that way.”
“Why don’t you try opening it and see?” Pa’s dry voice stopped Joe cold in his examination of the manila envelope.
I smirked. “Sounds like a smart idea.”
Joe pulled a face, and I snagged an apple while he ripped open the envelope, spread the single sheet of paper, and began to read.
“It’s from Noah.”
“Hey! What d’you know? What’s he say?”
Pa joined us while Joe read the letter. “They’ve bought a property not far from the ocean. They’ve built homes, a church, and last year, a school. He says they advertised back East and hired a schoolteacher. He says she’s very nice and very smart.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Joe glanced up to smile at Pa before reading the letter out loud. “Everyone has been busy learning new skills. Carpentry, leather work, barrel making. Any skill that is useful around the settlement or produces goods we can sell. We’ve even got a forge.”
“Sounds like they’re building themselves a regular town, don’t it?”
“The women make butter and cream from their cows, and Jemima met a lady who’s showing her how to keep bees and make honey.” The smile on Joe’s face spread even wider. “Listen to this. Isaac and Esther have had a baby girl.” His voice softened as he read on. “They’ve called her Georgina.”
“Ain’t that wonderful?”
I glanced at Pa when Joe folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope.
Pa patted Joe’s knee. “I’m certainly glad to hear they’re doing so well.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna get some air.”
We let him go and pretended to do something else for a moment. Then Pa cleared his throat. “I think I’ll join your brother for that air.”
He’d beat me to it, but that was all right. Joe and Georgina had shared a love most folks never find in their whole lives. Later, he’d remember that. Until then, whether it were Pa or me, one of us would always be there to help Joe through. We were always there for each other, and we always would be.
**The End**
July 2025
If you enjoyed my story, I hope you’ll scroll down and leave a comment to let me know.
Just Joe Bonanza Fanfiction Library 